The Library of Shadows

22

The thirst was the worst part.

Jon felt as if his throat were lined with insulation material, that awful glass wool, and it hurt every time he swallowed. A listlessness had also overtaken him, and even propping himself up on one elbow took a great effort. That's why he had lain there listening to the others for a while before drawing attention to himself. He had awakened as Katherina was in the midst of describing their visit to Tom Nшrreskov, and he hadn't felt it necessary to intervene until now.

Jon's arm began shaking underneath him and he dropped down onto his back again. The others came running over. Katherina was the first to reach him. He gave her a smile. He was glad to see her safe and sound.

'It's okay,' he said. 'I'm just a little tired.' He felt her hand on his forehead and closed his eyes.

'Does it hurt?' asked Iversen.

Jon shook his head.

'Could I have some water?'

Iversen sent Pau downstairs to get water – a task that obviously did not please the young man, because they could hear his disgruntled muttering as he descended the stairs.

'Do you remember anything?' asked Kortmann impatiently.

Jon raised his arm, pointed at his throat and shook his head.

'You've been activated,' Iversen explained. 'That's when you fainted, during the seance. We were afraid you might not wake up again.'

Jon opened his eyes and smiled. He didn't feel anything special other than fatigue and thirst. There was no sign that he had changed, and for a moment he wished he didn't have the powers but was just a normal person who could resume his old life.

'You're a transmitter, like your father,' said Iversen with pride in his voice. 'And a bit more than that, I must say.'

Pau came back with a glass, and Jon propped himself up again and greedily drank the lukewarm water. He handed the glass back and gave Pau a grateful nod.

'You'd better get some more,' suggested Katherina, and Pau trudged off.

'I don't feel any different,' said Jon after clearing his throat vigorously. 'Are you sure it worked?'

'I'll say it did,' exclaimed Iversen, laughing with relief. 'Far beyond our expectations.'

'Don't you remember anything at all?' asked Kortmann again.

Jon tried to concentrate, but he was much too exhausted.

'I remember watching a film,' he began hesitantly. 'And there was lots of smoke and fire.' He looked enquiringly at Iversen. 'You said I did that?'

Iversen nodded. 'Apparently your powers can manifest themselves as energy discharges of one sort or another, most likely electrical. In any case, you shortcircuited the electrical fixtures in the basement, causing fire to break out.'

Jon peered at the others. None of them laughed; on the contrary, Clara and Kortmann seemed uncomfortable at even being in the same room with him. Clara was standing at the foot of the bed, wringing her hands, while Kortmann sat a short distance away with his hands on the wheelchair handrims, ready to roll away if it proved necessary.

Pau came back with another glass of water; he too seemed scared to come too close to Jon. After delivering the glass, Pau gripped his right arm with his left hand and backed away from the bed. Jon drank the water.

'You mentioned that you knew where we would find the Shadow Organization,' said Kortmann.

Jon nodded.

'A client,' he said curtly. 'Someone who has shown a suspicious amount of interest in taking over Libri di Luca.'

Kortmann and Clara exchanged puzzled glances and then looked at Jon. He didn't feel like giving them any more details at the moment. Partly because he was too worn out for a major interrogation, and besides, he was still bitter about what Remer had cost him – a bitterness that might give the wrong impression to his listeners, who were already sceptical.

'I don't buy it,' declared Pau. 'He could just be a zealous book pusher. If there really is a Shadow Organization behind everything, what would they want with Libri di Luca?'

'I think I can answer that,' said Iversen. 'Libri di Luca is one of the oldest antiquarian bookshops in Copenhagen. The books up there on the balcony and downstairs in the basement don't just have sentimental value for a bibliophile. They have been charged. For years Lectors have been reading these books in this very location. For reasons we don't fully understand, a book becomes charged with each reading. Luca even had a theory that this energy could be accumulated in the building itself.' Kortmann was about to protest, but Iversen raised his hand for permission to go on. 'Perhaps it's no coincidence that it's easier to conduct an activation here than in other places,' he continued. 'Perhaps it's because of the books themselves, but it could also be because the walls contain the energy of generations.'

'And it's that energy that Jon released?' Katherina asked.

'Yes. Or he was able to link to it in some way,' replied Iversen. 'At least that would explain why the Shadow Organization isn't just interested in the books but in the space itself.'

'But then why did they try to burn the shop down?' asked Pau stubbornly.

'It could have been just a warning,' replied Iversen. 'Or perhaps the energy doesn't disappear with fire.'

Jon had lain down again. He didn't feel he had tapped into any outside energy source; instead it felt as though he himself had been drained so effectively that he could hardly keep his eyes open. The voices around him merged together into a humming sound, and he tried hard not to fall asleep. He thought he heard Katherina calling him, but he no longer had the strength to open his eyes.

Jon savoured waking up in his own bed. He could hardly remember the last time he was able to stay in bed in good conscience and take a snooze. There was nothing he had to do, no piles of work tugging at his conscience or meetings he had to attend. On the nightstand was a glass of water, which he downed in one gulp. It was daylight outside. The clock radio told him it was early morning.

He didn't remember how he'd managed to get home, and it was his curiosity about this question that finally made him get out of bed. He was wearing a T-shirt and boxers, which seemed to indicate that he hadn't undressed on his own. Normally he slept in the nude.

In the living room he found Katherina sleeping on the sofa. She was covered with a grey blanket, a paltry counterpoint to her red hair and pale complexion. A pair of jeans and a sweater were neatly placed on the coffee table next to a glass of water.

He stood there studying the sleeping woman. The flickering of her eyelids revealed that she was dreaming, and for a moment he wished to be there, to see the pictures she was seeing, just as she was able to see the ones his reading had produced. He smiled as he tore himself away and tiptoed out to the kitchen. There was nothing in the cupboards that he would want to offer a guest for breakfast, so Jon slipped quietly back to the bedroom to put on his clothes and shoes.

It was foggy outside, a thick, almost creamy mist that made it difficult to see more than twenty metres ahead. With his hands in his pockets, Jon strolled the few hundred metres over to the bakery.

It was in the bakery that he first noticed it.

Jon was standing in the queue behind two other customers. An elderly woman was in front, fumbling with the coins in her purse, and behind her stood a middle-aged man in a suit, trying to control his impatience. He was presumably on his way to work, and judging by the clock, he was running late. Jon's gaze scanned the interior of the shop, looking from the customers to the bakery assistant to the newspaper rack.

As he focused on the morning paper, he felt a slight jolt that made him wince. The story on the front page was a relatively ordinary article about a new school reform the government had in the works, but as Jon began reading the opening paragraph he felt the text reach out towards him, as if it were elastic and almost insisted on being read aloud.

Alarmed, Jon shifted his glance away, but no matter where he looked, he felt words and messages forcing themselves on him from signs, posters and brochures hung up around the shop, enticing him to pronounce them and shape them.

He looked down at his shoes and kept his gaze there until the bakery assistant asked what she could get him. He ordered and paid without looking up and then hurried out of the shop as soon as he had the bakery bags in hand.

On his way home, Jon kept his gaze on the pavement and walked quickly until he reached the front entrance. He took the stairs at a run, because when he glanced at the nameplates on the doors, it was as if they were reaching out for him, trying to stop him or trip him.

Jon hastily let himself into the flat and slammed the door shut. Out of breath, he stood there for a moment, leaning against the door frame.

'Jon?'

He heard Katherina's worried voice from the living room. He wiped the sweat from his brow and went into the flat. There he was met by Katherina, who had put on her sweater and wrapped the blanket round her waist. She came towards him.

'Are you okay?'

'I went to the bakery,' he said, holding the bags out in front of him. His hands were shaking so hard that the bags rustled.

'What happened?' Katherina asked with concern.

Jon sat down at the kitchen table and told her about his experience at the bakery. Only afterwards did he discover he was still clutching the bags and still wearing his jacket.

'I think that's perfectly normal,' said Katherina. 'Iversen likes to tell the story about when he was first activated; he felt as if he were being attacked by all the books that had previously been his best friends.' She took the bakery bags out of his hands. 'It only seems like that in the beginning. After you get used to it, you'll feel more in charge.'

Jon's breathing had returned to normal, but he stayed sitting in the chair as he took off his shoes and jacket. Katherina went back to the living room. He rubbed his palms over his face. What would have happened if he'd actually read that newspaper? Would it be safe for him ever to read anything again, or was it only in Libri di Luca that he was a danger to those around him?

'How did we get back here yesterday?' Jon called loudly.

'You mean the day before yesterday,' Katherina shouted back. 'You've been asleep for thirty-six hours.'

She came back to the kitchen, fully dressed now.

'Kortmann drove us here. His chauffeur carried you all the way upstairs. We couldn't get you to wake up.'

'And you've been here the whole time?'

'I didn't have anything else to do,' she said, smiling with embarrassment.

Jon fixed her with his gaze. He could see she hadn't had much sleep, and he pictured to himself how she might have sat by his side as he slept. Maybe she had stroked his forehead lightly with her fingertips with a worried look in her green eyes.

He cleared his throat and looked down.

The news that he'd slept for a full day and a half woke up his stomach and he suddenly felt very hungry. He got up to make coffee.

As they ate, Katherina told him what had happened in the bookshop after he fell asleep again. They had mostly spent the time discussing whether the Shadow Organization existed or not, and they hadn't come to any sort of consensus. Clara was convinced and called for a meeting of the two factions, while Kortmann and Pau refused to believe in it. The discussion had ended with a compromise. Jon was going to have to seek out Remer to establish or refute his affiliation with the Shadow Organization, and after that they would decide what to do next.

'So how are we going to find him?' asked Katherina cheerfully.

Jon rummaged through the pockets of his jacket, which was still draped over the back of his chair.

'We'll have a little help from this guy,' he said, placing a key ring on the kitchen table.

Clever Smurf stood among the keys with a pensive look on his face.

'Our entrйe to the Remer case. I forgot to turn in the keys when they fired me.' He stood up. 'But first I'm taking a shower. I think I need it.'

The fresh baked goods and coffee had done the trick. Jon was no longer hungry and the coffee had given him a buzz. As the water from the shower sprayed over him, he couldn't help smiling because he felt rested and content, and soon he would also feel clean. He enjoyed the feeling of the hot water on his skin. He closed his eyes and turned his face up towards the spray.

Maybe that's why he didn't notice Katherina come in until she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her body against his back. She was hot, hotter than the water. He hummed contentedly and let his hands slide over hers. She kissed his back and caressed his chest and stomach. When he tried to turn round, she stubbornly held him tight. He let her have her way, leaning forward with both hands on the wall in front of him. Her hands slid down across his stomach and out to his hips, then down his thighs. She moved her hands back the same way, touching him only with her fingertips, just as he had seen her stroking the spines of the books the very first time he saw her in Libri di Luca. Then she rested her hands on his hips and turned him round to face her. Jon opened his eyes and looked into hers. The sight of her red hair, those green eyes and the white skin made him catch his breath. He leaned forward and carefully kissed the scar on her chin. She sighed, and he moved his mouth to her lips. With a slightly sharper tug she pulled him closer and returned his kiss.

They spent the following day alternating between making love, sleeping and eating. They shut out everything else; not even Iversen's worried messages on Jon's voicemail could make them show any interest in the world outside the flat. As reserved and wary as Katherina had seemed to Jon when he first met her, she now seemed open and warm, and it felt unreal that only two weeks ago they hadn't even known the other existed.

They both knew they couldn't isolate themselves forever, but they postponed it as long as possible and kept finding new excuses, mainly sex, for blocking out the world. Aside from the fact that it was wonderful hiding out with Katherina, Jon was also concerned about how he was going to function outside, where his new powers might manifest themselves. Katherina was sure he would be able to control them now that he was aware of the consequences, but he wasn't convinced. The activation should have been only a matter of form. They had meticulously avoided any reading since he'd come back from the bakery, but at some point he would have to leave the flat. Katherina suggested they start with some controlled reading.

For safety's sake Katherina rang Iversen, who was relieved to hear they were okay. He also thought it was a good idea to do a little training before Jon was let loose.

Jon had never in his life bought a work of fiction. The breach with Luca had made him hate books to such a degree that he read only non-fiction, but he did own a couple of detective novels that had been given to him as presents. They were stuffed away in the bottom of the wardrobe. As Katherina brushed off the dust, she decided there was no danger of them being charged. They had most likely never been read, and so they were 'dead' in the Lector sense.

'First you need to familiarize yourself with your powers,' said Katherina, trying to sound serious even though they were lying naked in Jon's bed. 'As you've already noticed, a text can fill up a lot of space in your consciousness. You can't ignore your powers, but you can learn to mute them when you aren't using them.'

'So what exactly do we do?' asked Jon.

'You start reading, and I'll jump in if it begins to get out of hand,' she replied. 'The most important thing is that you take it easy and don't try to force the powers or make any big deviations. I have to be able to follow along the whole way.'

'In a minute you're going to tell me that it's just like riding a bicycle,' said Jon.

Katherina laughed and blushed. 'Just start whenever you're ready,' she said, handing him one of the books. 'If you sense an obstacle, that's me holding you back, and that means you should stop.'

Jon nodded and studied the cover. He gave a start when the title rose up towards him like a three-dimensional advert. He observed the phenomenon for a while, getting used to the way the type was pulsating in both colour and size.

'You doing okay?' asked Katherina.

He nodded and opened the book. Suddenly all the symbols on the page came rushing at him and he had to look away. He felt sweat break out on his forehead. Stubbornly he forced himself to look at the page again and started to read. His impression of the book pages instantly changed. It felt as if the words and letters were now behaving themselves, waiting for their turn to be read, instead of having all the sentences on the page creating one big confusion like before. Relieved, Jon quickly found a comfortable reading pace, but he still didn't dare put any emotion into his reading, and occasionally he cast a glance at Katherina. She was lying on her stomach, resting her head on her arms, with her face turned towards him. There wasn't a trace of concern in her expression.

This time he sensed right from the start that he was sitting in front of a multitude of invisible knobs that he could adjust in order to put life into the story. Slowly he began adding more feeling to his reading; he gave the characters more personality and lent more colour to the descriptions. Just like during the activation, the background became glass-like and the type more distinct, but Jon hesitated to break through the white surface. He determined that his perception of the white surface and the images he created from the text were two different things. The images were formed from his knowledge and the interpretation of the text, and they were a product partly of his own experiences and also of the accentuation he was able to give to the scene by virtue of his new powers. The story took place in Copenhagen, which made it possible for him to add details that weren't in the text but that resulted from associations he made.

Jon experimented with colouring the mood of the images, and he discovered that when he really concentrated, shadows began appearing behind the glass surface. Those images approached the images created by his subconscious. But whenever he got that close, he was stopped, and he didn't try to force his way any further. In this way he tried out various effects for a while, until he heard Katherina calling him.

He looked away from the book and discovered her sitting astride him.

'How'd it go?' he asked, tossing the book aside.

'It was beautiful,' she said. 'You're very talented.'

'Thanks. But I have to be honest and admit I have no idea what I'm doing.'

'You'll get there,' said Katherina with conviction. 'I think it went fine. There are two things you need to take into consideration. First, the listeners. Everyone perceives a story differently, partly because of their experiences but also because on that particular day they might be either especially vulnerable or thick-skinned. That's why the tone should be within a certain margin of safety, so you don't have too violent an effect on the weakest of your listeners.'

'How do I know what the listeners can tolerate?'

'Over time you'll learn to sense how the reading is being received. That's why we need to practise.' She pressed her belly against his and smiled shamelessly.

'What sort of practice are you thinking about now?' Jon asked with a laugh. 'But you said there were two things.'

'The second thing is more difficult,' said Katherina solemnly. 'Because we don't know how it happens – the physical phenomena that you're apparently able to produce. It's important that we find out exactly under what circumstances they occur and how far you can go before they appear. Otherwise we can't stop you before it gets serious.'

'Thanks a lot.' He told her about his perception of the glass surface and how he had broken through it during the activation.

Katherina nodded.

'That could very well be the boundary,' she said.

'So, have I earned a break?' Jon asked, placing his hands on her hips.

'You've earned more than that,' she said with a smile and leaned towards him.