The Library of Shadows

38

In a few hours it would be done.

Jon could hardly comprehend it. For most of his life he had been held back from following his destiny, and until only moments ago people had been trying to lead him astray, but now he would finally have the opportunity to take his rightful place. There had been countless obstacles along the way, and they had caused extraordinary delays. He wished that he'd had more time to prepare. After all, it was only a couple of days ago that he'd been initiated into the true nature of the Order. It annoyed him not to feel entirely ready, even though Remer had said he was. Of course he could see it was important for the Order to launch the activation. The longer they waited, the more chance of losing their influence, but he still felt uncertain. His encounter with Katherina just a few hours ago had shaken him, and if it hadn't been for Remer's intervention, things could have gone terribly wrong.

That couldn't be allowed to happen again.

So it was a focused and silent Jon who sat on the back seat of the Land Rover, together with Patrick Vedel, on their way to the Bibliotheca Alexandrina. In his hands he held the book from which he was supposed to read. It bore neither a title nor the name of the author, and the black leather had no visible markings to reveal the contents. This was the book used for all activations in the Order, specially written for the occasion and charged with so much energy that Jon almost dropped it the first time he held it in his hands. The pulsing from the book made his fingers tingle, but in a pleasant, reassuring way, which helped him to concentrate instead of distracting him. The contents were equally surprising. When Jon had had the opportunity to read some of the pages, he discovered that the descriptions and the images they evoked were strangely compelling. There was no question of any sort of coherent storyline. The book had been written for the purpose of supporting the powers in the best possible way, and it was full of scenes that could be interpreted and charged by the transmitter to great effect. Remer had explained that Jon's copy was only one of a large set of identical books that would be used at the reactivation. All of them had become charged during countless rituals.

Outside the car the weather changed as they travelled from the country house to the city. The wind picked up, and dark clouds drifted in across the evening sky. When they reached Al-Corniche, the beach promenade, they could see the water pounding against the bulwark, the beaten foam tossed over the roadway in great white clumps.

Even though they had driven past the library earlier in the day, it made a different and much more spectacular impression against the backdrop of the sombre sky. The disc of the library roof was illuminated by spotlights, the entire glass surface gleaming an unnatural white. The spherical building on the plaza in front, which housed the planetarium, was girdled by glittering blue bands. Beyond the library was the pyramid-shaped library school; in the darkness it shone green in the glow from powerful searchlights. The illuminated buildings were an incredible sight, and from the sea they must have seemed a worthy replacement for the lighthouse of antiquity.

There were two other people in the car besides Jon and Patrick Vedel. Poul Holt was driving, and Remer sat in the front passenger seat. All four wore the same type of robe; only Jon's was black, the others were white. At first Jon had thought it slightly ridiculous to be dressed in this way, but now he agreed they needed to show the proper respect for the ritual, and this opinion was reinforced the moment he saw the historic setting before him. At the same time, the robe had a reassuring effect, and gave him a strong sense of solidarity with the others. He still felt slightly nervous, but otherwise great, and was looking forward to delivering the best performance he could muster. He recognized this feeling from all the occasions when he had delivered his closing remarks in court, but this time there was much more at stake than the fate of his client or his own pride.

Holt stopped the car right in front of the library and the three other men got out. The wind instantly grabbed at their robes and the trio hurried towards the entrance while Holt drove off. The entry area was made of glass; just inside, a red carpet led the way to the interior of the library. Behind glass doors stood two Arab-looking men wearing the same type of white robes and welcoming the arriving guests. When they caught sight of Jon's black robe, they bowed low and chanted several phrases in Arabic. After that they checked everyone's amulets before the party was allowed to pass through yet another set of glass doors.

The hall they entered stretched ten metres upwards and massive pillars of light-coloured sandstone soared like tree trunks, ending at the metal rafters of the roof. Jon sensed the energy that pervaded the entire hall. It was different from Libri di Luca, not nearly as insistent; instead, it was present in a natural way, like a background radiation that permeated everything.

More than two hundred people had gathered in the foyer, all wearing white robes, some with their hoods up, others bareheaded. There was a buzz of voices as lively discussions were carried on in the small groups that had formed. Jon caught words from a number of different languages spoken by the participants, but as Remer and Jon made their way through, the conversations stopped until they had passed. Then a great whispering followed at their heels.

Remer led the way to a group of about ten people, who greeted the three men in Danish as they approached.

Remer introduced Jon to the group, which he explained was the inner circle of the Danish division of the Order.

All the members of the group carried a book identical to Jon's. Each person stepped forward in turn to introduce himself and utter a few appropriate words of welcome. Jon politely returned the greetings, but he didn't recognize any of them. Judging by their expressions and friendly attitude, however, they all seemed to know who he was.

'The ceremony will be conducted in the reading room,' said Remer, turning to Jon.

'It's an amazing place,' said one of the people in the group, and the others chimed in with eager nods and approving remarks.

'But how are you keeping this whole thing secret?' asked Jon, gesturing towards the assembly. 'It's not exactly a discreet gathering.'

Remer laughed. 'You might well say that,' he acknowledged. 'But often the best way to hide something is to put it right out in the open.' He gave Jon a wink. 'Of course we're not exactly advertising what's really going on here. Officially it's a charity event, and we're also making quite a handsome donation to the library operating fund. Not that it's pure altruism. The staff are our people, of course, even those who work here in the daytime.'

In the meantime groups of Lectors continued to arrive, and Jon estimated the number had now reached well over three hundred. More and more people had begun to pull up their hoods, as a signal that they were ready, and many cast glances filled with anticipation in his direction. He looked up at the ceiling, ten metres above, and suddenly had a feeling that he was the one holding it up and not the massive pillars.

Katherina was shaking with nerves. She stood a short distance from the entrance to the library, observing the other participants as they arrived. To her relief, some of them had already pulled up their hoods, so she did the same. That helped.

Henning and Mehmet had separated from her at a safe distance from the library. They had neither robes nor amulets and would have to try to find another way in. At any rate, the main entrance was closed to them. That became clear to Katherina the moment she saw the two guards at the door. They wore robes just like everyone else but she could clearly see the muscles underneath, and the bulges at their hips indicated they were also armed – with real guns, not toys like the one Mehmet had used to scare Pau.

They had left Pau gagged and bound in the bathroom of his hotel room. Aside from the fact that Katherina considered it an appropriate fate, they had decided it was too risky to try to remove him from the place. And there was little likelihood he would be found before Katherina was safely inside the library. He had put up a fierce struggle when it finally dawned on him he wasn't going to be freed in time for the reactivation. Desperation had shone in his eyes and he tried to break loose in frantic fits of rage. It made Katherina realize that the evening's event was much more than some cosy gathering for bibliophiles. A great deal was at stake, maybe even people's lives. Including Jon's.

Katherina took a deep breath and pushed open one of the glass doors. She was met by a smiling guard who welcomed her in English. He looked at her expectantly. Her heart started pounding even harder. Had he already seen through her? Was she supposed to mention some sort of password? Had he noticed her robe was slightly too long?

The guard patted his chest and then pointed towards her throat.

The amulet.

Katherina glanced down and saw that the amulet had slipped inside her robe. Relieved, she pulled it out and murmured an apology. The guard merely gave her an even bigger smile and then gestured towards the next set of doors.

She quickly moved on, pushing open the glass doors to the foyer. The last time she had been here, tourists wearing gaudy clothes and carrying cameras had filled the space with colours, noise and flashes of light. Now several hundred identically clad people stood around chatting to each other as if they were at some perfectly ordinary social function. How was she going to find Jon in this crowd?

Two rows of square-shaped candles in wrought-iron holders lined the corridor leading to the reading room. Katherina started moving in that direction, positioning herself close enough to a group of participants that it looked as if she was one of them, but far enough away so as not to attract their attention. From the words she caught, she thought they were French.

More than half of the participants had now pulled up their hoods, but looking at those who had not, she could see there were people from many different ethnic groups. When she noticed the black book some were carrying she had a moment of panic, thinking the book was yet another item required for admission. But she quickly calmed down when she noticed that most of the people didn't actually have a book. Besides, receivers were not supposed to use books at an activation.

A short distance away Katherina noticed a large group that was getting a good deal of attention from everyone else, and after observing them for a moment she understood why. The robe of one of the group members was black instead of white. The person was surrounded by the others, and she couldn't see much more than a shoulder, an arm and a back when the individual moved to one side. Her hood didn't make it any easier for her to get a good view, so she discreetly moved a little closer.

It had to be the leader. Maybe even Remer.

Katherina held her breath and took another step closer. She knew it was risky because she ended up standing conspicuously separate from the groups around her.

The person in black turned his head, and it felt as if he were looking straight at her.

It was Jon.

His eyes seemed to fix on hers, right there among all the others, but then he let his gaze continue to slide over the assembled crowd, and soon he turned his attention back to the group standing around him. Someone must have said something amusing, because he smiled and nodded to one of the others.

Katherina couldn't tear her eyes off him. She stood there practically paralysed, watching him converse and listen attentively, as if he were among good friends. It was hard to keep her emotions under control. What she wanted to do most was to rush over there, throw her arms round him and hold him tight until the real Jon materialized. It was just too strange to see him enjoying himself in the company of people who had abducted him against his will and even murdered his family.

Jon couldn't quite get used to being the centre of so much attention. He felt as if people were watching his every move, and was aware of a need to ingratiate himself with those standing around him so as not to seem too affected by the situation. One of the participants in particular had been blatantly staring at him. He had tried to ignore it, but even though he had his back turned, he could still sense the person studying him intently. He glanced over his shoulder and saw he was right. The person was standing about twenty metres behind him, a woman judging by the shape of her body. She stood there all alone, observing him from under the shadow of her hood.

He nodded to her in greeting. She gave a start and immediately stepped out of his field of vision. Jon frowned. Was that a lock of red hair he saw as she turned away? No, that was impossible. It couldn't be her. Katherina would never be allowed admittance. And why should she? Besides, there must be other Lectors who had red hair. And it was perfectly natural people would stare at him; the mere fact that he was wearing a black robe made it hard for him to hide.

'Are you okay?' asked Remer at his side.

Jon turned his attention to Remer.

'Yes, sure,' he replied with a smile. 'I'm just feeling a bit tense.'

'We all are,' said one of the others in the group with a laugh. 'And it doesn't help matters that our guide is nervous.'

'Don't worry,' Remer assured them. 'Campelli is totally prepared. Nothing can stop us now.'

Jon nodded. 'When do we get started?'

'Very soon,' said Remer. 'Let me just check with the guards.'

Remer withdrew from the group and headed towards the entrance. Jon kept his gaze on Remer as he had a brief discussion with the guards, who consulted their watches and nodded affirmatively.

'Is it true you destroyed the test chamber in the basement of the Demetrius School?' asked an elderly man on Jon's right.

'Yes, there wasn't much left of it,' replied Jon, which prompted a worried look in the man's eyes. 'But it was an uncontrolled session. We've been practising since then, and now I can hit the right level with great precision.'

'But we're all at different levels,' said the man nervously. 'How can you be sure the level you choose isn't going to be too strong for some people?'

'We'll start off very gently,' replied Jon soothingly. 'To begin with, the level will probably be too low for everyone to get something out of it, but if things proceed as planned, those who are weakest will be elevated first, and then we can increase the strength and raise up the rest.'

The man nodded and seemed satisfied with the answer. Jon was less convinced about how it was going to work in reality. The reactivation was Remer's theory, and there was no guarantee that it would work, or that it could be kept under control.

'Besides, there are lots of receivers present, and they can modulate the effect if there should be any problem,' Jon added, putting on what he hoped was a convincing expression.

'There aren't going to be any problems,' said Remer, who had rejoined the group. 'And it won't be long now. We're just waiting for a few more people and then we can start.' He pulled up his hood and pointed towards the reading room. 'Shall we go in?'

The others in the group pulled up their hoods and set off after Remer, who slowly walked down the corridor between the rows of candles. Jon followed suit, and everyone else started moving too. Soon the entire assembly had pulled up their hoods to cover their heads and the scattered conversations died out. The only sounds were footsteps on the stone floor and the rubbing of fabric against fabric.

From the foyer the procession moved along the corridor and into the heart of the library to the reading room. The experience of going from the relatively narrow corridor into the vast space of the reading room almost took Jon's breath away. A couple of participants near him uttered little gasps as they entered the enormous room that reached up seven storeys. They entered on the fourth-floor level, and from here they could peer down on the levels below, which looked like terraced fields on a steep mountainside. Mighty pillars held up the floors and stretched even higher to support the disc-shaped roof, which until now Jon had seen only from the outside.

The reading areas had been cleared on this level, but they could see, on the terraces below, that rows of desks and chairs made from light-coloured wood formed the work areas for those who used the library on a daily basis.

The impressive space was one thing, but quite another was the concentration of energy Jon could feel as they moved through the huge room. It was as if they found themselves under a magnifying glass where forces were being concentrated to such a degree that the air seemed saturated with electrical charges, making the hair rise on everyone's arms. Jon felt such a strong tickling sensation that he couldn't help smiling.

Instead of tables and chairs, a circle of candles stood in the centre of this level of the reading room. In the middle of the circle was a dark-wood podium. Jon had a strong feeling he knew for whom that podium was intended.

Slowly and without a sound the people flowed into the room and spread out around the podium. Remer drew Jon over to the centre of the circle of candles. They stood on either side of the podium and silently regarded the crowds pouring in. It was impossible to see the faces under the hoods. Jon felt exposed in his black robe. He was the only person who couldn't hide.

The participants moved in closer and closer as the crowd filled the reading room. Several times Jon thought he saw the woman from the foyer, the one he'd thought was Katherina, but each time there was something about the person's gait or posture that convinced him it wasn't her.

Despite the fact there were so many people, no one said a word. The silence made it possible for them to hear when the doors to the room were closed by one of the two guards, who took up position just inside the doors with his hands behind his back.

As if on cue, Remer stepped up to the podium. It stood on a metre-high platform, and everyone's eyes were directed towards him at once.

He cleared his throat a couple of times and then began to speak. The words were in Latin. Jon recognized them from a section of the Order's chronicles that Poul Holt had read to him. Holt had explained that it was the Order's original mission statement, which exhorted the members always to improve their powers and keep them secret from the uninitiated. The passage also contained an encomium to the powers and the role of the members in the world. Like shepherds, they were to herd the ignorant sheep – which meant anyone without the same abilities.

Jon didn't understand the words Remer read, so he used the time instead to study the people standing around him. They were apparently intimately familiar with the text. They had turned their faces up towards Remer, which made it possible for Jon to see their mouths, which for the most part were shaping the words as Remer spoke them. Only one person was not looking up at Remer but instead was staring straight at Jon. That person was standing a couple of rows away, but he couldn't see the face because of the hood's shadow. Yet there was no doubt the eyes were directed at him.

Jon's heart began beating faster. It couldn't be her. Slowly the person's head lifted to look up at Remer, just like everyone else's. The lower part of the face emerged from shadow. A pair of lips were shaped in a smile.

Jon caught a glimpse of a little scar on the chin. Katherina's scar.