“Deanna,” Rowan whispered. She flicked her eyes to him in question and confirmation. And she said to him, in a voice that was deep and hollow, young and old, “Every key has a lock. Tell the Queen Who Was Promised to retrieve it soon, for all the allies in the world shall make no difference if she does not wield the Lock, if she does not put those keys back with it. Tell her flame and iron, together bound, merge into silver to learn what must be found. A mere step is all it shall take.” Then she looked away again. And Rowan realized what the power in her hand was. Realized that the flame she
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