The Ghost Roads (Ring of Five)

A
LSO BY
E
OIN
M
C
N
AMEE

The Ring of Five
The Unknown Spy

The Navigator Trilogy
The Navigator
City of Time
The Frost Child

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Text copyright © 2012 by Eoin McNamee
Jacket art copyright © 2012 by Scott Altmann

All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Wendy Lamb Books, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

Wendy Lamb Books and the colophon are trademarks of Random House, Inc.

Visit us on the Web!
randomhouse.com/kids

Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools,
visit us at
RHTeachersLibrarians.com

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
McNamee, Eoin.
The ghost roads / Eoin McNamee. — 1st ed.
p. cm. — (Ring of five)
Summary: “The nefarious leader of the Ring of Five, Ambrose Longford, is still determined to control both the Upper World and Lower World. But Danny and his friends at Wilson’s school for spies stand in his way. As Danny struggles with his role in the spy world, Longford is attempting to bring down the other members of the Ring, to usurp all of its power. Or is he?”— Provided by publisher.
eISBN: 978-0-375-98592-8 [1. Fantasy. 2. Spies—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.M4787933Gho 2012
[Fic]—dc23
2012001197

Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.

v3.1

For Gabriella, Imogen and Michael

Cover

Other Books by This Author

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

About the Author

The prime minister looked at the file on the desk in front of him. It was massive, and he had only scanned the first few pages, but even that had been enough to shake him to the core. The top pages of the file had been recently printed, but as he went back through it, the paper grew older, brittle and yellowed with age. The bottom section was composed of parchments and cracked vellum. But each report, whether modern or ancient, asserted the same thing: There was another world, existing parallel with his own. A world of danger that threatened to invade his own, if the documents were to be believed. The files had been closed for many years, but their opening had been triggered by strange happenings—the sightings of men and women with wings flying in formation across the countryside, the sudden assault on a military base by a group of creatures with
one brown eye and one blue. Inexplicable events that had brought Harris, the head of his secret service, to his door
.

“I have grave news,” Harris said, his face filled with concern. “My predecessors, going back hundreds of years, have always passed on an instruction: if winged men are seen in the countryside, then this file has to be passed to the prime minister.”

The prime minister had read the first pages of the file with growing incredulity
.

“This other world has always existed?” he said now
.

“Yes, sir. There have always been discreet contacts between the Two Worlds, but things turned sour. The Lower World, as the other is called, sought to take over this one. After terrible conflict, a treaty was signed between the two, forbidding almost all contact.”

“And now?”

“The treaty has been broken. The Lower World is free to attack ours.”

“Who are they?” the prime minister asked. “Are they all … evil, winged … things …?”

“No, Prime Minister, that is where our hope lies. We have allies sworn to fight evil, those who have resisted for hundreds of years. Men and women of integrity and valor. I will introduce you to one!”

Harris stepped out. The prime minister went to the window and looked down on the blackness of the river below. Who knew what foul secrets were concealed beneath its inky depths?

He heard the door creak behind him. He turned, half expecting to see a winged creature, but the door had opened
to a pleasant-faced man, someone who looked like he might be a schoolteacher, with a ready smile
.

“Here he is,” the secret service chief said, “the leader of the freedom fighters in the Lower World, our best hope in these dark times.”

The prime minister stepped forward eagerly, his hand outstretched
.

“Welcome,” he said, “welcome to our country … I mean to say, our world.… I am the prime minister.”

“I’m very pleased to meet you,” the man said, his voice low
.

“And you are?” the prime minister said
.

“I am Ambrose Longford, leader of the Ring of Five, and, I hope, your ally in this battle.”

“Of course, of course,” the prime minister replied. “All our resources are at your disposal. What can we do?”

“Thank you,” Longford said, taking the seat the prime minister offered. “Time is indeed short. The opposition is well organized, and I am sad to say that their ringleader and chief troublemaker was born in your world.”

“Who is he?” the prime minister asked. “So we can track this menace down.”

“His name is Caulfield, Danny Caulfield,” Longford said, “a boy with enormous power, bent on dominating your world and mine. He leads a gang from a school for spies known as Wilsons, a place of such infamy that it must be erased. Caulfield is half human and half Cherb. The Cherbs are evil beings, foot soldiers of the Ring of Five. Some say they can be redeemed, but believe me, they cannot.”

“And this … this Danny Caulfield, what are we to do
with him?” the prime minister asked. The whole situation was outside his experience; he felt helpless
.

“Many times I have tried to bring him to the side of righteousness,” Longford said, “and each time he has returned to the embrace of darkness. It pains me to say the words, as it must pain you to hear them, Prime Minister, but there is no other way. This scourge must be dealt with for once and for all. We must pool our resources to this end. This menace must be eliminated!”

“How do you propose to stop him?” the prime minister asked
.

Longford’s eyes flickered, and his mind traveled to a secret prison fifty miles away, where a plan to do just that was unfolding. But the prime minister didn’t need to know everything. Knowledge was power, after all
.

“We are working to that end, Prime Minister,” he said, “working with all our might. A trap has been laid. This Danny Caulfield was reared here in the Upper World. The people he has regarded as his parents are in our custody.”

“Though of course they are not his real parents,” the secret service chief broke in, “but rogue agents!”

“He purports to hate them, but he has in fact a sick regard for them,” Longford said. “They are the bait in the trap!”

“This Ring of Five you mentioned,” the Prime Minister said, “it must be a wonderful organization!”

Longford inclined his head modestly, concealing a small, sly smile. Besides himself, the Ring of Five consisted of some of the most wicked beings it had ever been his pleasure to know
.

“A fine body of men and women, toiling selflessly in the cause of peace,” Longford said
.

“Splendid,” the prime minister said. “I hope to meet them someday.”

You will, Prime Minister, Longford thought with secret delight and malice. Someday soon, you will!

A
t the secret prison Longford had been thinking about, things were not going well for Agent Pearl, the woman who had been hired to look after Danny by pretending to be his mother. When Danny had found out the truth, he had been devastated by the betrayal, but if he had glimpsed Pearl at that very moment, he would have realized how much she cared for him, how far she was prepared to go to save him and how much she longed to see him one more time—although she could hardly see at all now, after the beatings, her eyes were so bruised and swollen. She sensed rather than saw the interrogator enter the cellar where she had been for … how long? Time had lost all meaning
.

“Water,” she whispered through parched lips. “Water, for pity’s sake.” She would have reached out her hands to beg, but they were tied behind her. The interrogator touched her cheek gently and she flinched from him
.

“Such a pretty face,” he whispered, “and such a shame to see it like this. Why, even your own son would barely recognize you. But he’s not your son, is he?” The man’s voice changed. “So why won’t you tell me where he is?”

She trembled and waited for the blow to fall. Danny was at Wilsons Academy of the Devious Arts; that was all
she knew. Could they touch him there? Probably not, but she wouldn’t take the chance. She emptied her mind and waited for the pain to begin again
.

In another cellar in another part of the same military building on the outskirts of a nondescript town, her partner, Agent Stone, swam into consciousness. He too had been tortured, but he had not seen his torturer for several days. He had even been fed, an anonymous hand placing a dish of rough but edible stew just inside the door
.

He sat up. Something had wakened him. There it was again. The scrape of a key. More food? The door creaked open; then he heard quiet feet walking away
.

The door was open!

He went over to it, moving painfully. The corridor outside was empty. A trap—it had to be. He would be shot trying to escape. And yet if they had wanted to kill him before now, they would have done so already. There was nothing to stop them. Perhaps he did have a friend in this secret prison. Hardly daring to hope, he stepped out of his cell
.

Ten minutes later Agent Stone stood in an empty foyer, its lights dim. He had moved with great caution. Once, he heard footsteps and shrank into the shadows. A secretary had crossed in front of him, carrying an armful of files. She did not look up
.

He peered through the partly open door. He could see the night sky, but he could also see barbed wire and watchtowers surrounding the building. How was he to escape? At the possibility, however remote, of freedom, the face of his partner sprang unbidden into his mind. Agent Pearl! Was she in the same building? Was she even alive? He half
turned to go back, but then, as if she were beside him, he heard her voice in his head
.

Never mind about me. Find Danny. Look after him!

He heard the rattle of an engine outside. An old black taxi trundled around the corner and stopped in front of the building entrance, blocking the view from the watchtowers. The back door swung open
.

“Get in, you fool,” came a deep, gravelly voice. In a flash Stone analyzed the situation. He didn’t know the taxi driver. Hurt though he was, Stone was still a trained operative, and his training stood by him. Inching open the door of the building, he ducked to the ground and rolled toward the cab, then dived into the back and hit the floor. The door slammed
.

“Stay down!” The taxi roared toward the gate. The engine slowed, and Stone heard voices
.

“Where are you going this time of the night, Fairman, you old goat?”

“You know I don’t answer for my comings and goings,” the rough voice said. “Out of my way, sentry!”

“Charming, I’m sure,” the sentry said. “Go on, get out of here.”

The cab started forward. Stone waited for the shout, the thud of bullets against the bodywork, but none came. He was free
.

“Who are you?” he asked. “Why are you helping me?”

“My name is Fairman,” the taxi driver growled. “My taxi travels between the world you know—the Upper World—and the secret Lower World, unseen by you Upper Worlders for many years.”

Stone could not suppress a shiver of excitement. He had researched the existence of a Lower World, and Danny had confirmed it to him. Now he was to go there! His excitement vanished as he thought of Pearl, still being held prisoner
.

Don’t worry, Pearl, I’ll find Danny; then I’ll come back for you.
He made the promise in his mind, even if Pearl could not hear him. If he had lifted his head and looked right as the cab left the military base, he would have seen a poster of Danny pasted to a wall. On it was written:

But Stone did not look. He was thinking of his next move
.

“What part of the Lower World are we going to?”

“Where do you think?” Fairman said. “The school for spies. Wilsons.”