Mikkel Birkegaard - The Library of Shadows

Mehmet's fingers flew over the keyboard as he repeated what she had said. Then he nodded.

'Anyone else?' he asked, looking at her.

'The last one is Jon Campelli,' said Katherina, fixing her eyes on him.

'Jon Campelli?' Mehmet repeated after several seconds. 'You want me to find Jon Campelli?'

Katherina nodded. She could feel her throat closing up at the sound of his name.

'I realize that I said I didn't want to know what you two are mixed up in,' said Mehmet sombrely. 'But what's going on? Did he run off? If he doesn't want to be found, I can't help you.'

Katherina cleared her throat. 'Jon is being held against his will,' she said. 'By the two men I just mentioned.'

Mehmet frowned but otherwise didn't move.

'Otto Remer is the head of a criminal organization that will stop at nothing,' Katherina went on. 'It's extremely important that we find Jon as quickly as possible, or else…' She felt the tears welling up. 'Or else they're going to hurt him.'

Mehmet gave a big sigh. 'What the hell have you got yourselves into?' he said. 'I heard that Jon was fired, and now this.' He shook his head. 'Why don't you go to the police?'

'It's a long story,' said Katherina. 'And we're wasting time.'

Mehmet nodded and turned to look at the monitor in front of him.

'Okay then,' he said. 'Let's find our friend.'

The waiting was awful. Katherina had nothing to contribute other than to answer the questions that Mehmet occasionally asked. Otherwise the only sound in the room was the clacking of the keyboard. Mehmet had switched off his mobile phone after the first time it rang, and Katherina didn't want to disturb his concentration. He was her only chance.

While Mehmet worked, Katherina walked around the room, unable to sit still. She examined the assorted wares in the boxes, again amazed that anyone could make enough to live on by entering contests. Jon had told her about a Japanese TV show in which the participants were locked inside a flat and had to live off whatever they were able to win in contests, either over the Internet or from coupons. Most people had to give up from lack of food.

Now and then she slipped behind Mehmet to peek at the computer screens, but even if she'd been able to read, she was convinced that she still wouldn't have understood a thing. Numbers and symbols scrolled up the three screens at a speed that made it impossible to catch the meaning, and Mehmet's fingers danced over the keyboard.

'Okay,' he announced after searching for nearly an hour and a half. 'I know where he is, but you're not going to like it.'

Katherina went over to the table to look at the monitors. One of them showed a world map covered with lines.

'I checked the airports,' Mehmet began. 'No trace of Otto Remer, but Jon flew…' He set the tip of his finger on Denmark. From there numerous lines reached out to destinations all over the world. 'From Kastrup airport to…' He moved his finger south along one of the lines.

Katherina opened her eyes wide.

'That can't be right,' she said.

'Egypt?' exclaimed Jon sceptically.

Remer smiled and threw out his arms. 'The realm of the Pharaohs, the cradle of civilization.'

Jon shifted his gaze from the man in the lightweight suit to the window behind him, where flowing white curtains fluttered gently in the breeze. Even though he felt as if he'd left his geographic sense behind in Denmark, he had to admit that all the pieces did seem to fit. The heat, Remer's attire, the strange aromas. He wasn't keen on trusting Remer about anything, but all indications were that he was telling the truth.

'We left the morning after our… meeting,' Remer explained. 'It wasn't exactly easy to arrange a medical transport on such short notice, but we managed to get space on a charter flight.' He uttered a grunt of displeasure. 'Yet another experience you should be glad you were spared.'

'But why?' Jon asked.

Remer smiled again, raising his hand in a reassuring gesture. 'I'm getting to that. Just relax.'

Since he was lying in a hospital bed with restraints after being abducted against his will, Jon had a very hard time relaxing. For him it was no more than minutes ago that he was in the basement of the Demetrius School, watching Katherina run away as he had ordered her to do. Even though at that moment Jon didn't care what might happen to himself, the whole situation was still an outrage that made him boil with fury inside. Several days had passed, he'd been flown to a foreign country and he had no idea where Katherina was, or even whether she'd managed to elude Remer's men.

'You realize I'm never going to help you, don't you?'

'As a businessman I've learned not to use the word "never",' said Remer casually. 'Even though "never" signifies something infinite, it tends to limit the imagination and any potential we may have. As a businessman I need to keep all doors open until the last possible moment, and even then I need to have a cat-flap to come back through.' He clasped his hands behind his back, unintentionally taking on the look of a professor. 'People who say "never" end up regretting it. Did you ever think that you'd give up your job to become a bookseller? Or that your father was the leader of a bunch of gullible, intellectual hippies with magical powers? No, you didn't. Right? "Never," you would have said.'

'That's a grotesque comparison.'

'Is it?' said Remer. 'You have to admit that's what has happened, all the same, and you've actually derived some benefits from it. You've become the owner of your father's fortune, and you've acquired powers that you had no idea existed. You've even found love.'

This reference to Katherina took Jon aback. He looked at Remer. Had the man made a slight nod towards the door, or was that just his imagination? His heart began to pound. If she was here, all would be lost.

Remer must have noticed Jon's reaction because he broke out in a devilish grin.

'See, youknow you've benefited from it. So much so that you're afraid of losing what you've gained. Just imagine what the future holds for you.'

Jon glanced down at his own body. 'At the moment I'm strapped to a bed,' he stated.

'I know, I know. But that's only for your own protection.'

'Protection from what?'

'From "never".'

Remer turned and strode resolutely out of the room, pulling the door shut behind him with a metallic clank.

Jon stared at the closed door, but it revealed no new information. He let his eyes pass over the empty room, but even though he now knew where he was in the world, it did him no good.

Egypt. What was he doing in Egypt?

Whether it was a side effect from the sedation or whether the light really did disappear as quickly as it seemed, Jon wasn't sure. For him it felt like he'd merely blinked his eyes and it was dark outside. The only lamp was on the bedside table, but the light wasn't strong enough to reach the far corners of the room. The temperature had become more tolerable, but it was still high enough that he felt hot, though he wasn't sweating.

The door opened and the woman in the lab coat came in carrying a tray. Behind her came Remer, and following him were three men who appeared to be of Mediterranean origin.

'Looks like it's about time for you to have some solid food, Campelli,' said Remer, stopping at the foot of the bed. He nodded to the men, two of whom took up position on either side of Jon, while the third remained at the door. At yet another signal from Remer, the straps on Jon's arms were unfastened and the woman placed the tray on his lap.

Jon discovered that he was hungry, but he hesitated to eat the food. He glanced at the guards, who were standing a foot away from the bed and staring straight ahead.

'They don't speak Danish,' said Remer. 'And even if they did, they're loyal to the Order.' He nodded at the bowl of rice and meat on the tray. 'Eat up, and I'll tell you a bedtime story.'