Mikkel Birkegaard - The Library of Shadows

'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.

Katherina was sure Jon had seen her. The first time was in the foyer, where he had nodded at her. What did that mean? That he was ready? That he was waiting for her? Or was it merely a greeting to a presumed colleague? With her heart pounding, she had followed the others into the reading room. If he had recognized her in the foyer, she might be unmasked at any moment. Her nervousness receded as she entered the reading room. The energy seemed more focused than when she was here last. Maybe it was the candles, the robes and the crowds of people, which all combined to draw her attention to the almost tangible excitement in the air.

The second time Jon saw her was right after Remer took up position at the podium and began reading the Latin text. Katherina didn't understand anything that was read; instead she kept her eyes fixed on Jon. He was standing to one side of the podium, letting his gaze pass over the audience, as if he were searching for someone. The hood of his robe was not pulled all the way forward, so most of his face was visible, and she noticed when his eyes fell on her and then stopped. She felt her pulse rise. These same eyes had looked at her with so much love only a short time ago. Now they shone with doubt and confusion.

Maybe there was still hope. Doubt was definitely better than the hatred she had sensed when she saw him at the marketplace earlier in the day. She couldn't help smiling as she turned her attention towards Remer standing at the podium.

There was no doubt that Remer was charging the text he was reading, but since she didn't understand the words, it didn't affect her. But it was different for the person standing next to her, a rather portly gentleman whose robe barely closed around the bulk of his body. After a moment he began to sway lightly from side to side. His hooded head started nodding eagerly at various passages of the text. She looked around and saw more people behaving in the same way. Yet most of the crowd stood motionless, like Katherina, and listened to what was read.

Katherina focused on the way Remer was using his powers. He was a skilled transmitter, perhaps even better than Luca had been. The effect seemed steady and effortless, as if he were producing a strong wind just by blowing gently. When she concentrated even harder, she discovered one of the reasons for this. The majority of the receivers who were present had focused their powers and were supporting his reading in a unified effort. With so many involved, this was a very difficult exercise that demanded a consensus as to what was supposed to be communicated. The slightest hesitation or miscalculation could break the illusion. Katherina knew from her training with the receiver group how difficult this was, but here everyone was totally focused and there was no uncertainty in their performance.