The Library of Shadows

by Mikkel Birkegaard

The inscription on the headstone had been etched with gilded letters, soberly listing Luca's name, birth date and date of death. The 'L' of his first name and the 'C' of his surname were shaped like little pictograms with curving lines, like the initial capitals in old books.

  The sun was shining in a cloudless sky and it was cold. Luckily the wall offered protection to the surrounding trees and bushes from the wind, but it was still very cold – most likely the reason why there was no one else to be seen in the cemetery.

  Jon stood there for a while, looking at the grave in silence. He wasn't entirely sure why he had chosen this place for his training. His flat felt too confined, and now that he was supposed to read on his own, he felt a little calmer about being in a place where there were no electrical fixtures. Maybe it was to prove something to Luca. He didn't really know, but now that he was here, it felt right.

  He sat down on a rock in the sun and reached into his coat for the book he'd taken from the stack Iversen had given him. It wasThe Divine Comedy, supposedly one of Luca's favourite books, and even though it was a small travelling copy, there was no doubt that it had been lovingly bound. The leather was a deep burgundy and the title had been stamped in black type.

  Jon opened the book at random and began to read. It was a strange feeling to be reading aloud among the graves, but he had a sense of security sitting there among the trees and bushes and heavy stones. Here he was not afraid of being overheard or observed. He was alone and could focus on his reading.

  Gradually he worked out how far he could go, but it took a while for him to find his way into the verse form, which made it difficult to inject any emotions. After three or four pages he finally found the rhythm and level of concentration that gave the paper its glassy appearance, and the shadows behind it began to appear like figures in a morning fog. He focused on them until they became as sharp as silhouettes cut from paper.

  Iversen and Katherina were most likely gathering supporters at this very moment – and apparently Jon's help wasn't needed. He'd felt that he was in the way. In that sense it was nice to get away for a while, partly so as not to ruin anything for them, and partly just to spend some time alone. Yet it was frustrating not to be able to do anything.

  After a few more pages, he began urging his powers to go further, shattering the glass surface on which the images had moved. He had the same feeling of power he'd noticed during his activation. The reading proceeded on its own; he could concentrate on adding colour to the story. Slowly he began to embellish the character descriptions and the dreary settings in which the people found themselves. There was no resistance, but the whole time he held himself back a bit. Like a film editor, he tried to create slow, smooth segues between the scenes instead of abrupt shifts.

  He had no idea how long he'd been reading, but when he put the book aside, he was sitting in shadow. His throat was dry and his fingers, which had been holding the book, were cold and almost numb. He held them up to his lips and blew warm air on them. Everything around him was in shadow, and it was difficult to make out any details, but when his eyes fell on Luca's grave, he froze and held his breath.

  The bars of the fence around the plot, which had previously been straight and vertical, were now bent, stretched out, and coiled, forming patterns that looked like eddies and waves. Anyone who hadn't seen the grave before would most likely not have noticed anything unusual, other than the artistry it must have taken to bend the metal bars in such a mesmerizing way.

  Jon glanced around, almost expecting to see a team of blacksmiths standing there and having a good laugh at his expense, but the only things moving were the treetops, swaying in the wind.

  When he stood up, he noticed an overwhelming sense of fatigue, but he felt well enough to go over to the fence and study it close up. There was nothing visible on the metal itself. It seemed as if it had always looked that way, corroded by wind and weather.

  Cautiously he leaned down and touched the iron bars with his fingertips.

  The metal was ice-cold.

  25

  Even though there were more than thirty people present at the Centre for Dyslexia Studies, it was still so quiet that Katherina was convinced everyone could hear her heart pounding. She had just finished explaining about their discoveries regarding the Remer material and about Kortmann's definitive dismissal. Now she was awaiting the opinion of the receivers. There weren't many friends of Kortmann present, but her credibility depended on whether or not they bought the theory about the Shadow Organization. It was rare for her to talk for such a long stretch without interruption, and along the way she'd been forced to drink some water several times to get rid of the dry feeling in her mouth.

  Clara, who as usual had managed so efficiently to gather the receivers for a meeting, now cleared her throat and was the first to speak.

  'How sure are you that this Remer is a transmitter?' she asked, giving Katherina an intent look.

  'For us there's absolutely no doubt,' she replied.

  'But you haven't tested him?'

  'No.'

  Clara nodded. Several of those present put their heads together to whisper to each other.

  They hadn't tested him for the simple reason that Jon was the only one who'd had any contact with Remer, and that was before Jon was activated, so he hadn't had the chance to discover Remer's powers. Besides, a receiver was required to confirm beyond any doubt whether an individual was a Lector or not.

  'I was hoping for a little more concrete proof,' said Clara, letting her eyes scan the dubious faces all around them.

  'And I was hoping that I could give you that proof,' Katherina admitted. 'But we thought it was better to present the information to everyone as quickly as possible, also to the transmitters.'

  Her body felt tense and her eyes searched for allies in the room. Most cast their eyes down when she glanced at them; others stared back with expectant expressions, as if they thought that any minute she might break down or hand over the definitive proof. She pondered how she herself would have reacted if someone had told this story to her. Probably in much the same way. It wasn't so strange that they were sceptical, so she couldn't really allow herself to be bitter.

  'I think,' Clara began, raising her voice to be heard above the murmuring that had started up. 'I think we can't afford to sit around and ignore this.' Everyone fell silent. 'If there's any truth in the existence of this Shadow Organization, then we have to respond. I'm not sure how, but we can't pretend nothing's going on.'

  Katherina could have jumped up and danced with that lovely woman. For a moment she had thought they would all turn their backs on her, as seemed to be happening to Iversen, but she'd been foolish to think that these people, who had helped each other in so many situations, would desert her now when she needed them most. She felt a lump in her throat and drank some water to hide her own reaction.

  'So, what now?' said Clara.

  Katherina cleared her throat. 'Iversen is in the process of finding out which transmitters are on our side,' she said. 'We're all supposed to meet later at Libri di Luca.'

  Clara nodded.

  'Luca would have wanted it that way,' she said. 'A reunion in his own bookshop.'

  'It's probably not going to be so much a reunion as a meeting of an entirely new group,' said Katherina gloomily. 'I'm not sure that Iversen will have much luck at getting the transmitters to join us. Many of them are loyal to Kortmann and wouldn't be convinced even if the Shadow Organization handed out business cards.'

  'They've always been divided in William's group,' said Clara sadly. She scanned the faces of the receivers. 'We need to make them feel welcome. This is our chance to finish the work that Luca started so long ago.'

  Iversen was setting up chairs at Libri di Luca when Katherina returned from the meeting with the receivers. It was after closing time but the door was not locked and all the lights were on in the shop.

  'How many do you think we'll need?' asked Iversen, casting a worried glance at the stack of chairs that h
adn't yet been set up.

  'All the receivers are coming,' said Katherina proudly.

  Iversen gave her a grateful look and smiled with relief.

  'Well done, Katherina. Was it difficult?'

  'Not really, but they're still sceptical. How did it go with the transmitters?'

  The smile on Iversen's face vanished and he looked down at the floor.

  'Rotten. Kortmann had already spoken to a lot of them.' He sighed. 'Five of them should show up, maybe a couple of others who haven't yet made up their minds.'

  'What about Pau?'

  Iversen looked distressed and shook his head.

  'We shouldn't count on him.'

  'Why not?' exclaimed Katherina. Even though she didn't always get along with Pau, she was still surprised that he would desert the ones who had taken him in when he most needed help.

  'He was angry,' said Iversen. 'You know how he is. Always short-tempered and self-righteous. He claimed the receivers were to blame for the whole thing and that you had manipulated us all.'

  Katherina gritted her teeth. 'We can get along just fine without him.'

  'Of course we can,' said Iversen. 'I was just hoping that…' He didn't complete the sentence.

  'Maybe he'll come back. Maybe they'll all come back, once we have proof.'

  'I hope you're right.' He grabbed the next chair in the stack.

  Katherina helped set up the rest of the chairs. There was room for forty people in the front part of the shop, approximately the same number that normally attended the evening readings at Libri di Luca. They weren't exactly comfortable chairs, but the readings were always so compelling that after a while the audience would forget about their discomfort. Only afterwards would they notice how sore their bodies were, a strangely pleasant soreness that everyone shared and that made them all smile at each other as they stretched their limbs during the breaks.

  One by one the Lectors began to arrive. They nodded to each other in greeting and started wandering among the shelves, studying the books. Katherina stood on the balcony, receiving the stream of titles, author names and excerpts that emerged. They quickly became mixed in an incomprehensible babbling, like a shop filled with radios all tuned to different stations. She muted the reception and concentrated instead on the facial expressions of those present. Most were nervous, their eyes flitting over the spines of the volumes without taking in what was printed on them. Those who tried to read passages from the books did so without any real involvement or concentration. Katherina recognized Henning from the transmitter meeting. He had arrived early, wearing a grey suit and white shirt, and his hair seemed a good deal darker than she remembered. When he caught sight of her, he nodded politely, and she sensed he was making sure to keep her in sight, casting a glance at her no matter where she happened to be in the shop. Maybe she was just being paranoid.

  Jon came into the bookshop with a pensive look on his face. He glanced around and quickly caught Katherina's eye. The smile he gave her made her gasp for breath, and she couldn't help breaking into a big grin herself. On his way over to the stairs, Jon was stopped several times by people who wanted to say hello, curious to hear about the activation. When he finally reached her, Jon hugged Katherina without hesitation, and they kissed for a long time, ignoring the fact that everyone had a good view of them up on the balcony.

  Katherina blushed bright red when Jon finally released her, and she noticed people casting embarrassed glances in their direction. Henning's eyes were blinking even more rapidly than usual and an amused little smile appeared on his lips.

  'Did you do any training?' asked Katherina after catching her breath.

  Jon nodded and was about to say something but was interrupted when the shop door opened and a group of about ten receivers came in. Behind them was the couple from the meeting at the Шsterbro Library. In addition to them and Henning, Katherina had recognized a middle-aged man she remembered seeing at the evening readings. Including Iversen and Jon, she counted a total of six transmitters – not impressive in comparison to the twenty-five receivers who had shown up so far.

  When she pointed this out to Jon, he nodded solemnly.

  'Is Pau coming?'

  'He's backing Kortmann,' said Katherina.

  Jon didn't seem either surprised or annoyed by the news.

  'What about the librarian?' he asked, leaning over the railing and scanning the people down below.

  'I don't think she's coming either,' replied Katherina. 'But Iversen mentioned that some people still hadn't taken sides.'

  Jon nodded. 'Let's hope that she changes her mind. We could really use a historian.'

  Katherina was about to ask him what he meant by this when Clara came in, to be greeted by an effusively friendly Iversen.

  'We'd better join them,' said Jon, pulling her gently towards the stairs.

  Down below people were settling into the chairs. The separate grouping of transmitters and receivers was obvious, and nervous glances were cast back and forth between the two factions. Katherina and Jon found seats in the front row. In the meantime, Clara and Iversen stood behind the counter, talking in low voices. From their position, Katherina and Jon heard Iversen telling Clara about his attempt to persuade the transmitters to show up. She looked both tired and resigned.

  Iversen went over to the door and looked out before he locked up.

  'I don't think anyone else is coming,' he said, turning to face the gathering. 'You all know why we're here,' he began. 'But just to sum up: we're convinced that there exists a Shadow Organization of Lectors who are behind the latest attacks on our members. There are strong indications that this same organization was also behind similar events twenty years ago, events that led to the break-up of the Society into transmitters and receivers. We have reason to believe that a certain Otto Remer plays a leading role in the Shadow Organization, and we have proof that he's had contact with Kortmann.' Scattered murmuring broke out in the room, making Iversen raise his hand in a calming gesture. 'It's not clear how serious that contact was. Kortmann may not have been aware of Remer's agenda, and it's not certain that Kortmann was exploited at all.'

  'In the worst case, Kortmann is part of the Shadow Organization,' Clara interrupted him. 'But until we know more, we ought to regard him as a victim.'

  Katherina shifted uneasily on her chair. She had difficulty picturing Kortmann as an innocent victim. His whole attitude towards her and other receivers had been laced with distrust and arrogance. He'd used every opportunity to make the distance between the two groups even greater, showing no desire for reconciliation. Even Luca, who never had a bad thing to say about anyone, had fretted over Kortmann's negative attitude.

  'Kortmann doesn't believe the Shadow Organization exists,' Iversen went on. 'That's why he's not here tonight. Just as twenty years ago he put the blame for events on the receivers.' He nodded towards the group of receivers, whose murmuring expressed their dissatisfaction. 'It could be sheer stubbornness or vanity. Admitting that he was wrong back then, and now as well, would be a great loss of face for him. And those of us who know Kortmann well know that this is something he tries for all the world to avoid.'

  Henning raised his hand and Iversen gave him the floor.

  'No matter whether we assume that Kortmann is the mole or he's innocent and is being used without his knowledge by this Shadow Organization, it means only one thing.' He paused dramatically. 'It means that they've been able to get very close to Kortmann, and of all of us he is the most protected and isolated, with his private chauffeur and everything. So what's to stop more of us being part of the conspiracy?'

  'Nothing,' Iversen admitted. 'It's highly probable that one or more of us sitting here in this room is working for the Shadow Organization, either actively or unknowingly.'

  Henning grimaced. 'So how do we make sure there aren't any spies?' he asked, sounding defeated.

  'We have to admit that we don't have an answer to that question,' said Clara. 'A polygraph test might be a possibility,
but if the individual doesn't even know he's passing on information, it would be useless. All the Shadow Organization needs is for a receiver to be in the vicinity of one of our members whenever he or she is reading.'

  'If that person doesn't manage to focus his thoughts,' Iversen interjected, with regret in his voice.

  'It could happen to any of us,' said Clara. 'It could be one of your colleagues, a neighbour or a lover. We're not used to taking those kinds of precautions – it would seem too vain. In that sense we've been very vulnerable.'

  A lengthy discussion ensued as to how any moles might be uncovered. Some suggestions bordered on resorting to torture by using truth serum. Someone else proposed that each person should read a sufficiently long text under the careful observation of a committee of receivers who, in theory, would be able to receive any incriminating thoughts or images. But this idea was rejected when Katherina pointed out that Luca had been capable of focusing his attention to such a degree that none of his private thoughts could be intercepted. Besides, the method wouldn't be able to catch those who were unaware of their own inadvertent disclosures.

  Even though a mood of despondency was beginning to spread through the room, Katherina could sense that those present were still prepared to cooperate. No accusations of blame were exchanged between the two groups; everyone realized that this was a shared problem and offered suggestions for a solution. Yet none of the proposals seemed convincing and they soon ran out of ideas.

  For a moment no one said a word, until Iversen cleared his throat.

  'The only person we are pretty sure is part of the Shadow Organization is Remer,' he said.

  'So let's start there,' said Clara. 'Do you know where to find this Remer?'

  'He's on the move a lot,' said Iversen. 'We've found three private addresses and multiple company addresses.' He sighed. 'He could be at twenty different locations, at least – and that's just in Denmark.'

  Clara looked around and threw out her hands. 'Twenty locations? There're plenty of us here to handle that. How about monitoring each place?'