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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.

39

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.

The last sentence Remer read was repeated by everyone present. He raised his head to look out over the gathering, nodded briefly, then stepped down from the dais. Katherina saw him exchange a few words with Jon, who then took Remer's place on the podium. The people around her began shifting their feet uneasily. It was impossible to know what they had been told, but everyone seemed filled with anticipation; they were also nervous.

Katherina used the opportunity to move back a few rows. If Jon had pointed her out to Remer, she needed to be careful. But Remer stayed where he was, standing next to Jon, and he didn't look particularly alert or concerned.

From the ranks closest to the dais, a group of about ten people moved forward. They all held black books which they opened and then raised their eyes to look at Jon. Katherina saw that others in the crowd who had also been supplied with a similar book now did the same.

After clearing his throat, Jon began to read.

The instant Jon started his reading, he noticed a warm, trembling sensation, as if he'd been lowered into a tub of warm water. He was received and enveloped by forces that everyone was using to help him, to support him and carry him, wherever he wanted to go. The restless energy of the book seemed to merge with the massive discharge from the library itself, and the whole thing was further enhanced by the receivers who were present. He recognized the support of Patrick Vedel like a heavy hand on his shoulder, a little more insistent than during the practice sessions, but that was probably just his nerves.

Jon started off at a slow, even pace to make it easier for the Lectors to fall into step, and when the transmitters surrounding the dais joined in with the reading, he sensed another spike of energy. With Remer and Holt he had discussed how the seance should proceed and what phases they should pass through in order to ensure the greatest benefit. It was important not to press too hard in the beginning, to take his time to get into the rhythm of the text and focus his thoughts. That was easier said than done. Catching sight of someone whom he thought was Katherina in the teeming audience had upset his concentration. Was it really her, or was his imagination running away with him? He didn't say anything to Remer as they exchanged places.

When Jon first stood behind the podium, he couldn't locate Katherina again. She was no longer in the same place. He couldn't decide whether that was reassuring or more worrisome.

The scene Jon read took place in a cemetery. The text was wonderfully composed, which made it easy to read the section aloud, and he had many opportunities to colour the situation as he pleased. Having read through the section before, he was familiar with the setting and knew what sort of mood he wanted to evoke. It was a sunny day and the main character was visiting the grave of his wife and daughter who had been killed in a car accident.

Jon concentrated on the scene, and before his eyes the reading room in Alexandria slowly faded away to become the peaceful setting of the cemetery. The pillars were transformed into beech trees standing along the cemetery walls, and members of the Order turned into the countless gravestones all around him. A warm breeze wafted past, with a scent of spring. The rays of the sun were splintered by the many carved stones and the branches of the trees, and they cast angular shadows across the ground. Jon noticed that he had reached the point where time suddenly seemed to have slowed to a crawl, and that gave him the opportunity to influence the scene as he saw fit, enhancing it to whatever degree he liked.

The main character placed a bouquet of flowers on the grave of his beloved wife and knelt down before the headstone. The grass was damp and soaked his trousers, but he didn't pay any attention. The wind seemed to pick up, and the leaves in the crowns of the trees rustled as the branches swayed.

The widower reached out and placed his hand on the headstone.

The scene shifted as abruptly as a flash of lightning, and Jon accentuated the clarity and speed as much as he dared. They were riding in a car – the main character, his wife and daughter – on their way home in the darkness of night. The couple were quarrelling. The child was crying. Without warning a pair of blinding headlamps appeared before the windscreen; the sound of metal buckling and glass shattering did not drown out the screams coming from the back seat. Lights and images shifted in quick succession as the car spun round and the passengers and everything else inside were jumbled together.

Back to the cemetery.

Jon wondered if he might have pressed too hard. Even though he was keeping to the prescribed level, the shift might have been too violent for some. The cemetery was peaceful and very, very quiet in comparison to the flashback scene inside the car. The enclosed, claustrophobic feeling was replaced by the cemetery's wide-open space. Jon started letting dark clouds appear on the horizon. The wind grew even stronger, and the leaves swirled up and were blown across the ground.