The Ring of Five (26 page)

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I'm afraid. We both want the best for people, and we both know we have to use not-very-nice types sometimes. I have the Seraphim, and Devoy has Brunholm."

"He killed my parents," Danny blurted out.

"What?" Longford got to his feet.

"Brunholm. He killed my mum and dad. That's why I'm here."

"Oh, my dear boy!" Longford looked distraught. "My poor young man. I had no idea."

"That's why I want to join the Ring."

"Is it? Is it indeed." Longford leaned forward. The kindly manner dropped away. The eyes that examined Danny were deep-set and shrewd.

"You say that to yourself." Longford's voice was low. "But in your heart you know that is not the real reason. You feel the power of the Ring, the dark attraction. No. Do not deny it or be ashamed. I felt the same attraction, and when I entered Westwald I realized that the darkness is a tool--a tool that can be used to set the world and worlds to rights. Devoy is a good man, but a fool. You saw how weak Wilsons is. If it were not for me, the Cherbs would have torn through the Upper World like a knife through butter."

"But they didn't. You are waiting for something." Danny felt hypnotized by Longford's words.

"Ah, strategic understanding in one so young. I was waiting for you! For the Fifth, and for the Ring to be intact."

That word again. The "Fifth"!

"But first, tell me about how you got to Wilsons."

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Danny started talking, and the words tumbled out: About Fairman and his taxi. All about Wilsons and the attempts to kill him. About the teachers. About Devoy. And, of course, about Brunholm. He left Les, Dixie and Vandra out of it. After all, they were not to blame for what had happened. Longford was sympathetic. He was interested in everything, and laughed uproariously when Danny told him about Vicky the siren and the Messengers. But his questions guided Danny skillfully, searching for any indication that Danny was deceiving him.

"So you trusted Devoy and Brunholm at first?"

"Yes," Danny said truthfully, "but then ..."

"Your parents. Of course. A shocking thing. Brunholm was always like that. Leave no witnesses behind. I am sure that Devoy--how do I put this delicately?--he would have acted for the greatest good for the greatest number. And if your parents had to be sacrificed, then so be it. You are safer with us. Some of our members are no better than they should be, but at least you can see that with your own eyes.

"Of course, we must meet with the others. Conal knew that you were the Fifth the minute he set eyes on you. And the others will as well. Can you imagine what it would be like, Danny? To march at the head of an army of Cherbs. A disciplined army. A tool to a greater end. To put an end to war and famine in the Upper World!"

Danny could see it. Who would call him Danny the Pixie then? His parents would be so proud of him. And then it came over him in a great wave: they would not be

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there. They would not be there, and it was because of Brunholm.

"When do we meet?" The harshness had crept back into Danny's voice.

"Tomorrow," Longford said. "But first you have to rest. You've had a bad time. We have a room all ready for you. Come with me."

Longford led Danny out of the room and down a crooked little corridor. Danny stifled a yawn. He couldn't remember the last time he had had a proper night's sleep.

"Er, by the way, did anyone help you escape?" Longford queried. "I mean, you didn't get to Westwald on your own."

"No, of course not. There was a man called Starling. He got me to the ship."

"You don't recall the name of the ship, by any chance?"

"No," Danny said truthfully. "I was upset...."

"Yes, of course. And this Starling?"

The lie was out of Danny's mouth before he knew it.

"He brought me to the ship and then disappeared with the money. He didn't get on board I never saw him after that."

"I see. Ah well."

Why had he protected Starling? The words that Starling had used came into his head: "I import hope."

Longford opened a door. Behind the door was a small room with a red coverlet on the bed. There was fresh hot chocolate on a side table, and a girl in a white uniform and

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cap was tending to a bright fire. Longford gave the bed an approving pat.

"Nice and cozy," he said. The girl stood up and turned around. Danny saw her face and stifled a gasp.

Dixie!

Digging his nails into his palms to stop himself from crying out, Danny stared at the girl. She gave him a wink.

"That's the fire done, sir," she said.

"Good girl. You can go to bed now, and I'll fetch our young guest here some fresh muffins for supper. I have to say there's nothing like a muffin toasted on an open fire."

Dixie carried her bucket of coal to the door and went out. Longford followed her, rubbing his hands together and humming. Danny heard the door close, but when he turned back to the fire, Dixie was standing there.

He jumped. "What are you doing here?"

"We're on a mission to find you and bring you back." Dixie kept her voice low. "Les is working at the market in town, and Vandra's here in Grist. She's a nurse in the Cherb hospital. She doesn't like it very much. Having to suck the blood of Cherbs with athlete's foot and the like."

"If you get caught ... I mean, if Conal caught you ..."

"I saw him. Smelly big thing, isn't he? It's kind of fun being on a mission, though. So how do we go about getting you out? You shouldn't have run away like that, you know."

"Out?" Danny said. "I don't want out. I want to be here."

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"How could you want to be here?" Dixie looked puzzled.

"I'm ... I'm joining the Ring," Danny said.

"Don't be silly."

"I'm not being silly. I'm doing it. I'm the Fifth."

"You're a twit is what you are. Never mind. Devoy said you'd be like this."

"Like what? Joining the Ring because Brunholm ..." There was a noise at the door. Dixie disappeared and reappeared behind the door. It swung open and Longford came in. With another wink at Danny, she was gone. Longford put a fresh plate of muffins on the table.

"There. That should do for supper. Now. It is very late. We will talk in the morning. And Danny?"

"Yes?"

"Welcome aboard." With a broad grin, Longford swept out the door, knocking over a lamp and two plaster dogs on a low table as he did so.

Danny waited until he had gone, then tried the door. It was locked. There would be no more contact with Dixie that night. He sat down at the fire, bone-tired, and tucked into the hot chocolate and muffins. A torrent of thoughts ran through his mind. The other cadets' mission had obviously changed--they had been told to rescue him. Was it a plot by Brunholm and Devoy to use his friends to deliver him back into their hands? He wondered too about all that Longford had known about him--even his name. How had he found out? There must have been spies in Wilsons despite the shadows. I bet it was Smyck, he thought.

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He rubbed his hand across his eyes. He was too tired to think. It was all he could do to drag himself to the bed, pull off his clothes and tumble in between the clean linen sheets. In seconds, he was asleep.

Conal was waiting for Longford in his study.

"What do you think?" Conal's yellow eyes burned with a strange fire.

"It's him," Longford said briskly. "Not just the eyes and the shape of the face, but you can feel the hunger for power."

"And the ability to betray."

"Yes," Longford said thoughtfully, "it is the great art of our profession as spies, the ability to betray, and I think Danny will be good at it. After all, he has already turned on Wilsons with barely a backward glance. But there will have to be a test. Betrayal is a skill to be learned like any other."

"I have an idea. We picked up a spy. One of Wilsons, we believe. He was caught stealing. The Cherbs gave him a hard time, but he wouldn't admit his guilt."

"Does Danny know this boy?"

"There aren't that many pupils--he must. The boy would make a fine first subject for Danny's lesson in betrayal."

"What is the boy's name?"

"He is called Knutt. Les Knutt."

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THE RING OF FIVE

Late the next morning Danny sat up in bed and looked around. Someone had been in during the night, though he had heard nothing. There was orange juice and fresh bread and jam on the table, and, lying on the end of the bed, a black uniform. He picked it up. It was like the ones that the Cherbs wore, but not the same. A black tunic with a belt around the waist, trousers, a peaked cap and a pair of black leather boots, supple and close-fitting. He hesitated, then quickly put the tunic on, cinching the belt around his waist. It fit perfectly. He put on the cap and the boots, then went into the bathroom and stood in front of the full-length mirror. He saw a different person looking back at him. The Danny in the mirror was an officer, full of pride and danger. No one was ever going to call him a pixie. The cap made him look older, and brought
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out the triangular shape of his face. His eyes made him look dangerous, rather than like something to be made fun of in the schoolyard. Even the boots made him move differently--he strutted rather than walked. There was a silver badge on the collar of the tunic that he hadn't noticed before. He fingered it gently. It was a sharp-toothed skull, cold to the touch, the eye sockets slanted in an unmistakable way. He glanced at his Marburg coat, which lay crumpled on the floor.

There was a knock at the door. Danny started.

"Hello, anyone home?" Longford said.

Danny looked down at the uniform and felt himself blush, but when he went out Longford stepped back, as if in amazement.

"I am awestruck, my dear boy. The uniform is wonderful, as if it was made for you."

"Who was it made for?"

"It was made for the Fifth. It has remained unworn for many years."

"I ... I don't understand."

"The Fifth has been lost for a long time, Danny. We believe he is found again. We knew you were at Wilsons, but we didn't expect you to leave it the way you did and come to Westwald. Those idiot Cherbs at the quay sent you to the tunnel. It took us a little time to find out where you were."

"You keep saying 'the Fifth.' I mean, I know the Fifth is the fifth member of the Ring, but who ..."

"Yes, indeed, that is the question, Danny, who is the Fifth? I spent many nights in the libraries of Wilsons,

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reading through old books of secrets, many of them full of lies and half-truths."

"How did you know about me at Wilsons?"

"Ah. You will find out about that later. For the moment, we have to show you off."

They went out into the corridor and walked down the stairs. Halfway down he saw Dixie--she was polishing a mirror--or pretending to polish it, as it was still covered in streaks. As they drew level with her, she looked Danny up and down, shock in her eyes at his new appearance. Danny did not notice that she was pale, and that her normally dreamy face was tense and strained. She subtly mouthed words, but he couldn't figure out what she was trying to say. He gave a little shrug--there was nothing he could do. As they reached the hallway, he glanced back and saw her looking anxiously after him.

Outside, a little sunshine had penetrated the normal smog of Westwald, and it was pleasant under the trees. They crossed the square and went through another doorway, this one of dark wrought metal. Danny found himself standing in an enormous room with a high ceiling, pillars reaching off into the gloom. Now and then a shabby figure hurried through. Otherwise, it was quiet.

"Welcome to the fortress of Grist," Longford said quietly.

Afterward, Danny would struggle to recall details of the fortress. It was vast, with long, snaking corridors, dimly lit, leading to endless rooms. There were restaurants, classrooms, vast canteens, whole floors dedicated

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to the production of weapons. There weren't many Cherbs around.

"They're in the field preparing for an ... event. I can't tell you much about it," Longford said, and tapped the side of his nose with a smile

There were offices where civilian clerks toiled over clattering typewriters, and hospital wings full of empty beds, as if they expected many casualties soon. Danny looked for Vandra, but there was no sign of her.

"What's that over there?" Danny asked as they crossed a parade ground between buildings. He pointed to a long, low black building with barred windows.

"That is the prison," Longford said, a note of sorrow in his tone. "It is an unfortunate necessity for any society. It is of course appointed to the highest specification."

Danny eyed the long building uncomfortably. There were watchtowers at each corner, and guns poked from each one. Longford led him into another building. This one was different. There was ornate plasterwork on the walls, and glass chandeliers hung from the ceiling.

"I have arranged a small reception in your honor," Longford said. He threw open a set of double doors. In front of the doors, a grand staircase swept down into a ballroom, thronged with men in dinner jackets and military uniforms, cruel-faced generals and fat businessmen accompanied by beautiful women in gowns. Everyone in the room turned to see Danny at the top of the stairs, and they stood to applaud. Dazzled by the applause, and by the sumptuous room, Danny moved uncertainly down the stairs.