Mikkel Birkegaard - The Library of Shadows

'I believe him,' replied Henning with a sigh.

Katherina cast a glance over at Pau, who was sitting there with a satisfied smile on his face.

'I do too,' she whispered. 'Unfortunately. It doesn't look good. This is worse than I had imagined. We're going to have to stop it.'

'But how? There are three of us, and we don't know how many hundreds of them.'

'But there's only one Jon,' Mehmet pointed out.

'What do you mean?' asked Katherina.

'We have to stop him from taking part in the celebration,' said Mehmet bluntly. 'No Jon. No party.'

Katherina didn't really want to know what lengths they would have to go to in order to stop Jon, but she knew Mehmet was right. Jon was the key to the whole thing, and as long as he was on the side of the Shadow Organization – as he seemed now to be – he was dangerous.

'And how are we going to stop him?' asked Henning.

'We have to go to the party,' said Mehmet. He nodded towards Pau. 'One of us will have a free ticket to get in.'

'That will be me,' said Katherina quickly.

The other two looked at her.

'I know him best,' she stubbornly pointed out. 'We've trained together, so I know what he's capable of doing.'

Mehmet nodded. 'Okay. You take the amulet. Henning and I will find another way in.'

Henning agreed with a nod.

'Hey,' shouted Pau behind them. 'I think it's about time for you to set me free.'

The three exchanged knowing smiles before they turned to face their captive.

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.