The Ring of Five (4 page)

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"A Cherb raid on the ballroom tonight was unsuccessful." Danny and Les exchanged looks. "Tonight's Stealth and Surprise exercise was a resounding success." This time the others exchanged looks. They obviously didn't agree. "And we have a new pupil, Danny Caulfield, who is not a Cherb."

Brunholm put down the piece of paper, stood up, beamed at his audience, then walked off camera and was gone.

"Not a word of truth in the whole thing. Everything that man says is a lie," the tall boy with the beret said.

"You might be right, Smyck," a small boy with large, blinking eyes said. "Except that this boy has all the anatomical characteristics of a Cherb."

"Well," Dixie said slowly, "if everything Brunholm says is a lie ... and he says that Danny isn't a Cherb"--she appeared to be thinking very hard--"then it means that Danny can't be a Cherb!" And she smiled brilliantly at the others.

"No, Dixie," Les said in exasperation, "what you mean to say is ..." He looked at Dixie and sighed. She already appeared to have forgotten what they had been talking about. "He ain't a Cherb," Les finished lamely.

"Good argument, Knutt," Smyck said sarcastically.

The others started talking among themselves about the exercise that night. Without warning, a hatch beside Danny slid open and a plate of chicken and potatoes and gravy slid across the table, coming to a stop right in front of him.

"Tuck in," Les said. Danny did as he was told.

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It was the middle of the night, or felt like it, but he was starving.

As he ate, he noticed that there were framed photographs of men and women above the bench seats. Some of the subjects were distinguished. Others were wild-eyed, or haunted-looking. There was a particularly beautiful young woman with a long neck and almond-shaped eyes.

"That's old Bob Spetznaz," Les said admiringly. "Seduced kings and all in that getup."

"What about this one?" Danny pointed to an empty frame.

"That's Steff Pilkington. Near as anything invisible. Never managed to get a photograph of him. Every time they tried the film come back blank. One of the greats."

"Where are they all now?"

"Let me see." Les looked at them and frowned a little, then went round the wall. "Steff, he's dead, of course. Bob couldn't resist a challenge. Fell in love with Lydia Steelgate--when he wasn't dressed as a woman, of course. She had him garotted. Let me see. Dead, dead, dead, dead. Cheryl Orr--she's believed to be alive but gone mad." The photograph of Cheryl Orr showed a girl with calm gray eyes and a wide mouth with a smile lingering at the corners. Danny hoped Les was wrong about her.

"Missing, drowned and ... dead." Les concluded his list.

Danny wasn't sure whether Les was telling the truth or not, and he didn't have time to ask. The door opened swiftly, and Brunholm's head appeared.

"All finished? Good. The master wants to see you,

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Caulfield." The others looked at Danny with interest. A summons from the master was, it seemed, not something to be taken lightly.

Brunholm took Danny by the sleeve and drew him out the door. He marched him back down the little street.

"What is this place?" Danny asked.

"Ravensdale?" Brunholm said. "Its origins are lost in the mists of time. It was, as you see, a village. The old books talk of a cruel place. Family turned against family. A place of shadows and whispers. Abductions and assassinations were not unknown. And of course information became of the utmost importance, so people became spies. The annals say spies from Ravensdale were much sought-after, the greatest the world has ever seen, and of course strategically placed between the Two Worlds. But they are all gone now, dispersed forever. We don't know very much about them. It is an obscure branch of lore studied by few. Only the ravens are left of that time.

"It lay vacant for many years before we turned it into a place where the cadets can eat. They are split into different houses like the Jedburghs and the Kamirilla to encourage them to plot against each other. But usually they're too busy talking and gossiping. The ravens took a fancy to Ravensdale and built their nests here. We think it's their way of keeping an eye on the cadets. The ravens like to know everything that is going on."

Brunholm appeared to dismiss the subject, and walked ahead rapidly. Danny thought about asking what the gibbet was for, but decided to keep his mouth shut.

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The journey to Master Devoy's study was the strangest Danny had yet encountered in Wilsons. There were doors that swung open only with a password. There were corridors that appeared to abruptly end, only for a hidden turn to reveal itself. He and Brunholm climbed a long narrow staircase with no banister in almost pitch-blackness, and halfway up, Brunholm grabbed Danny's arm roughly.

"'Ware there, boy," he growled. Danny looked down. Where he had been about to step, there was only a dizzying drop. His foot dislodged a piece of stone. He watched until it disappeared, and he did not hear it strike bottom. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead.

"Jump over it," Brunholm said. Danny shut his eyes and jumped. To his relief he landed on solid ground. They continued to climb until, above them, Danny saw a small, plain door with a light above it.

"There we are," Brunholm said. "Master Devoy's study."

Danny started toward it, eager to get off the staircase, but Brunholm took his arm again.

"Look," Brunholm said. He lit a match. Across the top of the stairs was strung a shining wire, which gleamed softly in the flame.

"Put that there myself," Brunholm said, looking pleased. "Piano wire strung at neck level, razor-sharp. Take your head right off." He chuckled in an unpleasant way. He ducked under the wire, then rapped sharply on the door. Three knocks, followed by two, then three again. The door swung open. Brunholm pushed Danny

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in, then stood behind him in the doorway, nodding and grinning, for all the world, Danny thought, like a dog that had fetched a stick.

"Thank you, Marcus. Close the door, and please don't think about eavesdropping from one of the hidden entrances," a cultured voice said. Brunholm's face dropped in a way that would have been comical if Danny hadn't seen the thunderous look in his eyes. Without anyone touching it, the door closed in Brunholm's face.

It was a medium-size room, shabby in a cozy way, with a battered sofa and chairs and a fire burning in the grate. To one side of the room was a desk, behind which sat a man in a pinstripe suit, his face in shadows. Danny turned around and almost jumped out of his skin. A stuffed weasel stood on a shelf beside the door, its snarl so lifelike, he recoiled.

"The weasel," the man said. "Our equivalent in the animal world. Of the spy, that is." His voice was low and pleasant. He didn't say anything else, so Danny looked around. The room was full of things to do with spying--so many that he thought it might be a museum. On a side table there was a pen that on closer examination contained a gun. There were false mustaches and wigs. There were volumes of Catullus and other Roman scholars, each containing a radio transmitter in its hollowed-out middle pages. A whole shelf was devoted to cigarette packets in various stages of being transformed into a miniature revolver. In a stand in front of him Danny noticed an umbrella with an ornate ivory handle carved in the shape of an elephant's head.

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"Pick it up," the man said. Danny did as he said. "Press the elephant's left tusk." When Danny pressed it, a long spike shot from the tip of the umbrella.

"For delivery of poison," the man said, coming out from behind the desk. "Remarkably efficient in a crowd." Danny shuddered. "Invented by the Bulgarians," the man continued examining the umbrella thoughtfully. "Resourcefulness on a limited budget. Sometimes it makes for the best espionage." He stepped into the light. He was a tall man with an intelligent, well-bred face that was entirely expressionless. He did not look directly at Danny.

"It has been a long war," he said, seeming to be speaking to himself, "and a long and uneasy truce. They get stronger, and we get weaker by the day." Master Devoy sighed. He suddenly lifted his head and looked straight into Danny's eyes. Danny felt as if all his secrets had been exposed, and found himself blushing.

"Yes," Devoy said slowly, "Brunholm was right. Not just the physical appearance ... a quality you have, not quite deviousness, not yet ... you will have to learn that ..."

"I don't want to learn anything," Danny said, his voice not quite seeming to belong to him. "I want to go home."

"That's the problem." Devoy's tone was kindly now. "You can't go home."

The fire crackled and spat. Rain spattered against the window. Danny stared at Devoy. There was something final about the way he had told Danny that he wasn't going home.

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"Why?" Danny managed, aware of how tired he felt.

"We need a spy," Devoy said, "a great spy who will sit at the very heart of our enemy and reveal what he is thinking."

"But I'm not a spy," Danny protested.

"No," Devoy said, "but you will be. I cannot reveal your mission until you complete your basic training. I will say no more than that, except that we are under great threat."

"Why would I want to help you?" Danny said. His voice sounded petulant, like that of a naughty child, but he didn't care. "You kidnapped me!"

Devoy didn't answer. Instead, he sprang to his feet and went to a cabinet. He opened the glass doors with a small key and removed a globe of the world. He brought it over to Danny and set it down in front of him. "What is it?" he asked.

"A globe?" Danny replied. Devoy waved his hand over it. The globe began to change. The familiar seas disappeared. The landmasses dissolved. Danny found himself looking at a new world with new seas and new lands. The same, but different. Danny examined it. Were the colors harsher, the shapes of the land a little more jagged?

"This is a Globe of the Two Worlds," Devoy said, "a rare and beautiful object."

"Two worlds?" Danny said. "I thought there was only one."

"Two," Devoy said, "occupying the same space and time. You have just crossed from the Upper World into the Lower World. Once it was easy to cross. Men and

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women of wisdom did it all the time, and there were Messengers."

"Messengers?"

"Like the winged people you saw in the ballroom."

"You mean I'm ... in another world ...?" Danny's voice trailed away.

Devoy replaced the globe carefully.

"Yes. You crossed over with Fairman in the taxi."

"But how ... school ..."

"An elaborate hoax carried out by my colleague Mr. Brunholm, without my knowledge, of course."

Danny wanted to ask more questions, but he was feeling sleepier and sleepier.

"The chicken you have just eaten contained a thirty-three-minute sleeping draft," Devoy said, checking his watch. "It is taking effect--that is good. You need your rest."

As if from a great distance Danny heard a knock on the door. It opened to reveal Valant. Devoy indicated Danny.

"You may take him now, Mr. Valant. Please ensure this time that his room is not unlocked. If the Ring get wind of his presence before we are ready ..."

"The Ring ...?" Danny managed. "Who are the Ring?"

"The Ring of Five, Danny," Devoy said, leaning over him. "Be patient! Soon you will know all there is to know about the Ring, that is our hope!"

Then Danny felt sleep wash over him, and heard no more.

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ST. AGNES

Danny woke in the small room he'd been given the night before. It was morning, and a cold light shone through the windows. He was sure that a voice had woken him, but when he looked around, he could see no one. Then the voice came again, crackly and far away.

"Breakfast in ten minutes and forty seconds. Please wash and dress." Danny saw that the voice was coming from a device on the wall that looked like an old-time radio. He groaned and let his head fall back onto the pillow, remembering everything that had happened to him. The cab ride, Wilsons ... it was too much to think it was all a dream, but just in case, he shut his eyes--if he could go to sleep again, perhaps he would wake up in his own bed.

"Breakfast in nine minutes and twenty-three seconds," the voice crackled again. "Cadet Caulfield is in

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danger of incurring a Section Two Offense if he does not get out of bed."

Danny leapt out of bed and looked around wildly. How did the voice know he was still in bed? Then it spoke again, this time very low.

"Psst ... Danny?" Without thinking, Danny went over and put his ear to the speaker.

"Jump up like a good lad, don't want a Section Two on your first morning, do you," the voice whispered in a kindly way. Then, resuming its normal tone, it went on.

"Breakfast in eight minutes and fifty-three seconds. Cadet Knutt. Please return the toothpaste you have purloined from Cadet Smyck."

Danny scrambled into his clothes, splashed some water on his face and brushed his teeth, then stepped out into the corridor. He looked up and down. He didn't have a clue where he was going.

"Hello," a voice said. He turned and saw Dixie standing behind him.

"I--I," he stuttered, "where--"

"They sent me to find you to bring you to Ravensdale," she said calmly. "Wouldn't want you getting lost. Come on, or they'll have eaten everything."

"Hang on a second," he said. "I need to ... I don't know ..." Dixie looked at him sympathetically.

"Did Devoy give you the old Two Worlds lecture last night?" Danny nodded dumbly. "Thought so," Dixie went on. "I felt pretty strange when I was told that there was another world--it goes both ways, you know."

"But how can there be two worlds?"