The Ring of Five (34 page)

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Danny longed for someone to take the burden of the Fifth from his shoulders, although he knew in his heart that they could not help him.

"There are many mysteries to unravel, Danny. Perhaps Brunholm's finding you was no accident. But we will see. I am glad you are returning. But before you leave I have one more thing for you." Devoy handed Danny something that looked like an old-fashioned transistor radio.

"What is it?"

"A Radio of Last Resort. We can use it to contact you, or vice versa, if the need is great. If you are, as we believe, the real Fifth, then the Ring may yet have plans for you. Brunholm has gone off to research the history of the Fifth to see if he can find out more. In the meantime, keep the radio close to you."

"How do I get back?"

"The same way you came. With Fairman. We do not yet know when he will come."

Devoy went to the window and looked out.

"Snow is on the way--in a few days, perhaps," he said almost to himself. "I like snow. You can move in it without being seen, with proper camouflage. You can hunt, or elude your hunter. You can lay false trails, or allow your tracks to be followed. Snow is a good medium for a spy. And you are a spy, Danny. It is in your blood. I can feel it."

It got colder still over the next days. Without telling anyone, Danny took some spare blankets from the Roosts and left them in the summerhouse for Vicky. That evening he went to Ravensdale as usual to eat, and then to

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the study hall. He eyed the ravens in the rafters. Their beady little eyes still made him nervous. Halfway through the study period, Blackpitt broke the silence.

"Cadet Caulfield to the front hall, and please don't spare the horses."

Danny left his books on the desk and went out. Valant was waiting for him.

"Fairman's on his way," Valant said urgently; "the snow is coming and he wants to get you out ahead of it. I've packed your case."

"I need to say goodbye...."

"There is no time."

As they got to the hallway Danny heard a car skid to a halt outside the door. There was a loud banging on the door. Valant opened it. Fairman was standing there, his cap pulled down over his deep-set eyes, his mustache bristling.

"Time to go," he growled. "Snow's coming."

He stamped back to the car. Danny could see flakes of snow whirling through the night. Valant thrust his case into his hand.

"Have a good journey," he said.

"I can't go just like this!" he cried out. "My friends ..."

"You must go," Valant said. "Fairman will not wait."

Then, just as Danny turned toward the door, he walked straight into someone.

"Oof! Dixie, where did you come from?"

"Here and there." She smiled. He heard running footsteps. Vandra and Les skidded around the corner.

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"We saw your stuff gone," Vandra said, out of breath. Fairman tooted the horn.

"He only does that once," Valant warned. His friends followed him down the steps. Dixie planted a kiss on his cheek. Vandra looked as though she wanted to do likewise, but when she smiled and showed her long incisors, Danny put out his hand. She shook it.

"Take care, mate," Les said warmly. "Watch out for the Ring."

Fairman revved the engine. Valant held the cab door. It was all happening too quickly. Danny looked up. At the window of the third landing, Devoy watched him expressionlessly, then raised a hand in farewell. The snow was falling properly now, but through it he could hear the sound of an old-fashioned waltz drifting from the ballroom. The Messengers were dancing. Valant pushed Danny into the car and slammed the door. The taxi jolted to life. The last thing Danny saw was his friends waving to him, and then they, and the turrets of Wilsons school for spies, disappeared in the whirling snow.

He could see even less on the journey home than he had on the way to Wilsons. The snow gathered thickly on the side windows and on the windscreen, the wipers barely able to clear it. He tried asking Fairman where they were, but no answer came. The cab drove at the same reckless pace. Danny could feel the wheels fighting for grip, and once or twice the cab went into a long slide. But Fairman did not slow down, and there were no checkpoints this
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time. Hour after hour, the darkness rushed past. What was out there, what road was capable of crossing between two worlds?

It was cold in the cab, and Danny huddled in a corner trying to keep warm. He must have fallen asleep, for he was woken by being thrown forward. Stiff with cold, he picked himself up and looked out the window. The cab stood outside his house, silent and looming in the fresh-fallen snow. A light glowed in the hallway and in one of the upstairs bedrooms.

"You're here," Fairman grunted, getting out. He opened the door, seized Danny's case and threw it out onto the snow. Danny clambered out after it.

"I'll see you soon," he said. Fairman didn't answer. He jumped back into the driver's seat. The engine growled as the cab roared off down the drive. Danny watched the red taillights until they were gone. He stood alone in the snow and silence. Wilsons felt like a dream now. He would open the front door and step back into his old life. There would be his room with all his things in it. There would be dinner in the oven. But the two people he lived with seemed like strangers now, not parents. He thought about his bed in the Roosts. Les would probably be sleeping by now, and Dixie and Vandra. A light would be burning in the library of the third landing as Devoy and Brunholm plotted long into the night.

He sighed and trudged up to the front door, his feet crunching in the snow. He pushed the door. It was open. He stepped into the hallway. A fire burned in the grate, and the polished floor gleamed. He heard footsteps.

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The woman who called herself his mother came into the hall, reading something. She looked up in surprise.

"Oh, there you are--I didn't expect you until the morning, with the snow."

She kissed him in the way she kissed her friends and acquaintances, her lips meeting the air over his cheek so that she wouldn't spoil her lipstick.

"How was school?" she asked, with the air of someone asking a polite question but not really caring about the answer.

"Good ...," he said. His face was red. The questions he longed to ask would not come out.

"Oh yes, we read all about it in your letters."

"Letters?"

"Yes. This one arrived yesterday. I only just got around to opening it." She showed him the letter in her hand. He skimmed it. Apparently while at school he had been on the basketball team, and had joined the photography and chess clubs. The handwriting was identical to his own. Brunholm, he thought. He must have forged the letters!

"I forgot to tell you about the cards," he said. Their conversation sounded like one between two strangers who had met each other on a railway platform.

"Cards?"

"Yes, I've got good at Texas hold 'em. Poker."

"Really? How very interesting. Where did you get that dreadful old coat?"

"I kind of like it. Where's Dad?"

"Your father is away on another of his trips, and I'm afraid I have to go out now."

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Danny abruptly noticed that his mother was wearing high heels and a long dress. Nothing had changed, then, since he had been away.

"There's supper in the kitchen. I am so glad you are enjoying school. I hope you're eating properly and that the big boys don't bully you or anything like that."

His mother prattled away, filling the air with talk, as if, Danny thought, she was afraid of the silence. She gathered up her coat and handbag and car keys and gave him another air kiss as she made her way toward the door.

"Mum?" he asked. She stopped in the doorway, silhouetted in the porch light. She looked very beautiful with her dress and golden hair, like someone from a film.

"Mum ...," he said hesitantly, "who am I?"

"You ... why ... you're Danny, of course."

"And what happened to my eyes?"

"You know it was caused by an operation when you were young. Don't ask silly questions, dear. Don't wait up for me."

She blew him a kiss and shut the door. He sat down on the stairs. He might have been mistaken, but when he had asked her who he was, a strange expression had flitted across her face. He heard her car start and pull off. Where was she going in the middle of the night? He sighed. Her perfume hung in the air. Danny frowned. He remembered smelling perfume in the Hall of Shadows, when he had taken his vow.

He ate his supper in the kitchen, then carried his suitcase upstairs to his room. He opened it and took out the Radio of Last Resort. He fiddled with the dials, but it

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remained silent. He put it on a shelf over the bed. All the struggles and triumphs of Wilsons seemed so far away. The Radio of Last Resort was only a battered old transistor. He had played his part, but now Wilsons had no need of him. He would probably never see Fairman's cab again.

He threw his coat over the back of a chair. Something fell from the collar. He bent to pick it up. It was a feather--and not just any feather, but a golden-tipped one. It must belong to Les. The young Messenger must have sneaked it under the collar when he was leaving! He ran his finger along it. No, he thought, his friends would not forget him. He put it under his pillow and climbed into bed. His mind raced. Every time he shut his eyes images of Cherbs and Messengers and stern Seraphim chased each other through his mind. Finally, exhausted, he fell asleep. Outside it began to snow again, the flakes falling gently on the trees and on the house, covering and hiding. If he had been awake he would have heard it, but he slept the sleep of the exhausted: close to dawn his door opened. The woman he knew as his mother walked softly to the bed and looked down on him. There was compassion and love on her tired face. She bent over him and kissed him gently on the forehead, then crept from the room again.

Above his head the dial on the Radio of Last Resort lit up for a second. The radio buzzed and crackled, as though a message was about to come through. But then the sound stopped, the light went out and the room was silent once again.

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About the Author

EOIN MCNAMEE was born in County Down, Northern Ireland. He is the author of a trilogy for young readers:
The Navigator
, a
New York Times
bestseller;
City of Time;
and
The Frost Child
. He is critically acclaimed as a writer of novels for adults, the best known being
Resurrection Man
, which was made into a film. He was awarded the Macaulay Fellowship for Irish Literature, and has also written two adult thrillers under the name John Creed.

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.

Copyright © 2010 by Eoin McNamee

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.

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

McNamee, Eoin.

The Ring of Five / Eoin McNamee. -- 1st ed.

p. cm.

Summary: Kidnapped on his way to boarding school, Danny Caulfield, who has one blue eye and one brown eye, ends up at a mysterious academy of spies, where he is to be trained in the art of espionage in an effort to keep the Upper and Lower worlds from colliding.

eISBN: 978-0-375-89664-4 [1. Fantasy.

2. Spies--Fiction. 3. Schools--Fiction.] I. Title.

PZ7.M4787933Ri 2010

[Fic]--dc22

2009033345

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