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the Stone. Either there is a treaty or there isn’t,” Danny said. “What’s to stop them from attacking the Upper World?”
    “The treaty written on the Stone is binding under pain of death enforced by the Dead. You remember your oath in front of the Dead, Danny?”
    Danny shivered. He remembered taking his oath as a spy, the voices whispering around him. He had no doubt that the owners of those voices would hold him to his word.
    “The only way to break the treaty is to smash the Stone. That’s what the Ring want to do, and we must stop them,” Brunholm said. “If the Stone is broken, all rules are gone.”
    Then Devoy spoke. His voice changed into something remote, majestic, in a way, like the light from distant stars that have been cold and dead for many years.
    “ ‘Here is the treaty writ in stone. Here is the bargain sealed in blood. Death to the faithless. Death to the oath breaker.’ ”
    “That is written on the Stone,” Brunholm said. Danny shivered. Who did they think he was, to send him to steal such a thing?
    “You will not go alone,” Devoy said.
    “You will have companions,” Brunholm said, “all your little pals except that tyke Knutt.” Seeing Danny’s mouth open in protest, Devoy interjected.
    “It’s the wings, Danny. How can he go openly in the Upper World with wings?”
    “We don’t have time to argue over trivialities,” Brunholm said gruffly. “Too much is at stake.”
    “And yet we cannot rush into things without careful preparation, as much as time permits,” Devoy said. “Go back to your friends. Say nothing!”
    Devoy looked resolute, ready to face danger, but as Danny turned to leave, he noticed a bead of blood on the man’s finger where the stiletto had pricked it.
    D anny went down the stairs deep in thought, avoiding the gaps by instinct. The mission itself was enough to take in, but knowing that he would have to leave Les behind worried him even further. When he got to the school hallway his friends were waiting.
    “Well,” Dixie said eagerly, “are we going on another mission?”
    “I think so …,” Danny said.
    “Leave him alone,” Vandra scolded. “He’s probably been told not to say anything.”
    “I bet it’s a tough one,” Les said. “Here. I thought you might be hungry.” He pressed a large hunk of chocolate cake into Danny’s hand. “I don’t mind what the mission is,” he went on, “as long as we do it together—isn’t that right, Danny?”
    “As long as we’re together,” Danny said, the words out of his mouth before he realized he’d said them. He felt a dark little thrill at telling the lie, and groaned inwardly. No matter how hard he fought it, betrayal was in his blood.
    “One thing at a time,” he said, changing his tone, making his voice brisk and businesslike. “Vandra’s right. I can’t discuss the mission. But we have our own mission tonight—to learn the identity of the Unknown Spy.”
    I n daylight, solving the murder of the Unknown Spy’s wife by finding out the couple’s true identities had felt like a straightforward matter. Now that the cadets were safely tucked up in the Roosts with a cold wind stirring the trees and the promise of further snow in the air, it didn’t seem such a good idea. Nevertheless, the boys met the girls on the balcony as arranged.
    “Maybe we should leave the crime-busting to our ace detective, Mr. McGuinness,” Dixie said, suppressing a yawn.
    “No,” Danny said, “it’s too important.”
    “He’s right,” Vandra said. “We can’t just let a murderer prowl Wilsons. Any one of us could be next.”
    By common consent, Toxique had not been included on the mission. He was hypersensitive to death, which was often useful, but he couldn’t help calling out at every hint of danger—moaning on about death and blood, as Dixie put it—which made them all nervous.
    “Who’s on point of entry?” Danny asked, the term coming to him from a lesson forgotten until now.
    “I