Free The Ring of Five by Eoin McNamee Page B

window.
    "I wonder what's in here," he mused.
    "Les, please," Danny begged. With a strange reluctance and several backward glances, Les moved away from the door.
    The two boys climbed the staircase, which seemed to be barely used. Thick dust rose from the boards each time they put their feet down. Halfway up, there was a
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    window. Danny peered out and could see the niche where the statue had stood.
    "That's funny," he whispered, withdrawing his head and staring at the floor.
    "What?" Les said.
    "Look at the floor." Danny pointed. The floor was covered with undisturbed dust. "Whoever pushed the statue wasn't standing here. They would have left a footprint."
    "We better take a closer look. Maybe there's some kind of opening we can't see."
    The staircase ended at a landing. Again, it looked as if nobody ever came this way. Old furniture and carpets were stacked in one corner, and great sheets of cobwebs hung from the ceiling. A single door led off to the left. Les gently turned the handle. The door swung silently open.
    "Look at this," Les said quietly. The hinges had been recently oiled.
    "I don't like this," Danny said. "We should go."
    "One quick look," Les said, "since we came this far."
    Feeling the hairs rise on the back of his neck, Danny stepped into the room, followed by Les.
    The furniture was covered in white dust sheets, ghostly in the flickering beam of the torch. The two boys made their way to the window. Danny had been right. There was no way that anyone could have got near enough to the statue to topple it toward Danny far below. And yet it could not have fallen on its own.
    "A mystery," Les said. "Might as well take a quick
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    look around the room, doesn't look as if anyone would miss anything...."
    "I hope you're not thinking of ... of ... taking anything that doesn't belong to you," Danny said.
    "You mean stealing it," Les said cheerfully. "Only if it looks as if nobody has any use for it...." He flicked back one of the dust sheets and froze.
    "Look at this." Danny went over and found himself looking at a long iron bed with shackles at each corner. There was a large handle at one end.
    "What is it?"
    "A rack." Les looked pale. "They have them in the Lower World. You put a prisoner on it and stretch them until they confess."
    Les threw back another sheet to reveal a shelf of vicious-looking instruments.
    "Thumb-screws, teeth pullers, flesh pincers ..." Les ran his fingers along the shelf.
    "Look at this." Danny threw back another sheet. There was an electrical generator with bull clips on the end of wires. "They don't ..."
    "'Fraid they do, Danny."
    There was a brazier under another sheet, with branding irons neatly stacked in it. A sheet hung over a large upright object. Danny knew that it wasn't a good idea, but he caught a corner of the sheet and pulled.
    "I think I've seen this on TV," he said queasily. It was a hollow iron figure the size and shape of a man. His hand trembling, he took hold of the catch at one side. The front
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    of the figure swung open. On the inside, long spikes pointed inward. "What ...?" Les began.
    "It's an iron maiden," Danny said. "They make you stand in it, then close it. The spikes ..."
    "Even the Ring never did that," Les said quietly. "Let's get out of here."
    They threw the sheets back over the torture instruments and left the room quietly. Danny was shivering, even though it was not cold. His friend's face was pale. Neither of them looked up, or they would have seen the sign: DEPARTMENT OF INFORMATION EXTRACTION.
    Moving swiftly and silently, the two boys went down the stairs. They were halfway across the dark staff room when they heard the voice. Danny froze in his tracks, an icy hand running down his spine.
    "Help me," a woman said, low and desperate.
    Les had stopped dead as well. The two boys looked at each other, the whites of their eyes showing in the dark.
    "Help me, please." It was a low, musical voice, sad and full of despair. Les was first to react. He went to