The Crooked Sixpence by Jennifer Bell Page A

She didn’t even move.
He’ll find you
, Valian had told her. And here he was . . .
    â€˜Er – yeah, I need a candle,’ she said, trying to keep her voice steady. In the pockets of Valian’s jacket, her hands were trembling. ‘It’s for someone else. He said you had a debt to settle with him.’
    The old man squeezed his lips together and frowned. ‘A debt, you say?’ He scratched his scalp. ‘Who sent yer?’
    Ivy hesitated and half smiled. ‘Valian Kaye?’
    The man spat in her face. ‘Pah! Owe ’im a candle? ’E must be kidding. Boy’s gone raving mad. ’E owes me objects to the value of fifteen grade!’ He shook his head. ‘Owe ’im a candle indeed!’
    Ivy tried not to gag as she wiped the spittle off her cheek.
Lovely.
Valian had lied, but she still needed that candle. ‘Wait,’ she said. ‘Maybe there’s something I can give you in return.’ She started searching through Valian’s pockets. There must be something uncommon there—
    â€˜Ouch!’ Ivy’s fingertips burned as something bit her. She withdrew her hand and looked into the pocket. The lining was wriggling.
    The comb! Of course.
    â€˜How about this?’ Ivy pulled the comb out carefully and pointed it away from her, trying to keep control of the gnashing teeth.
    The man inspected it from a distance, rubbing his chin. ‘Not bad, not bad. But what would I use it for?’ He signalled to the loose, tattered shirt he was wearing. ‘I don’t have no pockets.’
    Ivy racked her brains. ‘Er . . .’ The man held her gaze. His irises were swirly dark blue now, like a lagoon. ‘Maybe you could attach it to the top of your sign to stop people flying into it?’ she said hopefully.
    The man looked angrily down at his broken sign and then, slowly, he smiled. ‘You got yerself a deal there, missy.’ He held out his hand, which was encased in a fraying grey gardening glove.
    Ivy sighed with relief as she shook it.
    The man glanced at her bare fingers. ‘Best make sure yer wearing gloves in there,’ he said, nodding towards the Great Gates.
    â€˜Yeah, thanks,’ Ivy said dismissively, registering the advice at the back of her brain. She was more interested in getting the candle. After the old man had handed it over, she shoved it in her pocket, trying to ignore the fact that it was black and odd looking.
    â€˜Yer jus’ gotta blow it out to use it,’ the man instructed before turning to leave. ‘It only works if you’re touchin’ it, mind. If you let go, you’ll become visible again.’
    Once the old man had disappeared, Ivy turned round and set off through the crowd. When the main arrivals chamber was well behind her, she sprinted down the last tunnel to Valian, anticipation surging through her. She had the candle; now she just had to make sure that Valian kept his side of the bargain. She was still determined to give him a piece of her mind when she found him. It served him right that she’d had to give away his comb. She felt the uncommon candle between her fingers as she dashed round the corner. ‘Valian?’ she hissed. ‘I’ve got it!’
    The tunnel was empty.
    Ivy hurried to the end and called down the elevation shaft, but there was no reply. She ran back and looked down the two adjoining passageways.
    â€˜Valian?’ she whispered. She didn’t understand why he wasn’t there. Then she spotted it: a shadow on the floor. As she drew closer, she realized what it was.
    My duffel coat?
    In the dust beside it lay the silver coin. Ivy picked it up and closed her fingers around it thoughtfully, letting the warmth surge through her. Valian must have found it and left it there for some reason.
    She scoured the surrounding area and, in the next tunnel, found scuff marks on the floor and five long scratches down the