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as Ivy could tell –
identical
tunnels. She stumbled along, her mind full of questions. Eventually Valian stopped at an intersection of three passageways. He checked that they were clear before speaking. ‘There’s only time to explain it once, so you’d better keep up.’ He pointed to one of the glass lights. ‘Do you recognize this?’
    Ivy stared hard at the object. It was about the size of a side plate, glowing with cool yellow light. There was a conical bit sticking up in the middle and a grooved lip around the edge. At first she couldn’t identify it, but then she realized that if you took it off the wall and turned it on its back, it would look a lot like . . .
    â€˜A lemon squeezer,’ she said, surprising herself. ‘We have one in our kitchen at home.’
    Valian pointed to the ceiling. ‘And that?’
    Ivy tipped her head back and gasped. Hanging from the roof of the tunnel by a short length of chain was a metal colander, the kind used to drain spaghetti. Silvery wisps of smoke leaked out of the holes and then dissolved into the air.
    â€˜Colander?’
    Valian nodded. ‘It filters the air down here so that we can breathe. The lemon squeezers give out light. They’re a bit like lamps, except better for the environment – and no electricity bills.’
    â€˜They . . .
what
?’ Ivy shook her head, resting a hand against the wall. ‘How is that possible? The ones at home can’t do that.’
    Valian shrugged. ‘That’s because the ones at home are all
common
. The lemon squeezer and the colander here . . . They’re both
uncommon
.’
    Uncommon
. The word struck a chord in Ivy’s mind. The underguard who’d arrested Seb had mentioned that his paperclip was uncommon . . .
    She looked down. ‘Right . . .’ she mumbled, trying to follow Valian’s explanation. ‘So if an object’s uncommon, it means it can do something amazing. But how? Is it, like . . . magic?’
    â€˜Magic?’ Valian gave a wry smile. ‘Hate to ruin your fairy tale, kid, but magic doesn’t exist.’
    Ivy felt her cheeks flush. After everything she’d seen that morning, it wasn’t
that
stupid a suggestion. ‘OK, well then, what makes uncommon objects special? How can you tell the difference between that lemon squeezer on the wall and the one I have at home?’ She swallowed as she watched the clean yellow light coming from its centre. ‘I mean, apart from the fact that it’s glowing.’
    â€˜For most of us, that’s the only way you
can
tell,’ Valian said. ‘There are some people who can . . . Well, that’s not important. As for what makes them special,’ he continued, ‘let me ask you a question: what’s the most powerful force in the world, the most incredible and extraordinary thing in existence?’
    Ivy frowned. She was no good at riddles and she certainly didn’t have the patience for them right now. ‘I don’t know.’
    Valian’s dark eyes glittered. ‘Us,’ he said. ‘
We
are. Most of the time we die and go on to the next world, right? No problem. But sometimes we don’t go on, we get stuck; or rather
part
of us – the soul, the spirit, the eternal bit, whatever you wanna call it – gets stuck . . . in an object.’
    The hairs on the back of Ivy’s neck stood on end. ‘
WHAT?
’
    â€˜Shh,’ Valian whispered. ‘Keep your voice down.’ He glanced nervously down each of the three tunnels, then rummaged around inside his leather jacket. Eventually he retrieved a tattered roll of paper and opened it out in front of her. ‘There’s more. Here – read this.’
    Ivy’s heart was racing now. She could feel pressure building behind her temples again as she looked down at the piece of paper.
    NOTICE OF THE PROCLAMATION OF
THE