He held the key to the light. It flashed, harmless and ordinary, and settled again into shadow. “It already has, many times,” he said.
“When people build things worth waking up for, no,” he answered. “When the world forgets how to be moved, perhaps.” winthruster key
“How much?” Mira asked. She ran a thin pick across the filigree and, impossibly, the metal hummed under her nail as if aware of the touch. He held the key to the light