Page 6 of The Glass Unicorn: Part 12

“In this world,” he said as we moved away from the group, “it’s best not to dwell on the length of your friends’ lives. There are too many differences, too many glaring disparities. Keep them from diving into speculation.”

I nodded. “That occurred to me after I started to talk,” I said. “Tell me, how do I get rid of this key?”

“I was saving that conversation for dinner. It won’t be easy, and you’ll face great danger, but I guarantee Zaran will find you and destroy you if you just give up. Better to face an unknown danger than certain death.” He paused, then said, “There have been others, you know.”

“Others?” I asked.

“Others who came through portals from your world to Abarria. Except they weren’t the portals that your game-makers created. When a person has a desire so strong they can see, feel, and taste it, when they are desperate beyond words, it can—at times—provide the energy to make that desire into a reality. I’ve met a few who created portals without realizing it, crossing over. And they got stuck here, because they so desperately wanted out of their situations. But the force that created those portals was based on the strength of their emotions and their personal magical energy, and once expended, they are unable to recreate them. So, they’re stuck here for good.”

I nodded. “Like when fear gives a mother superhuman strength to lift a fridge off a child, or something like that? In normal circumstances, they couldn’t recreate the act.”

Otsiano nodded. “You understand. Most of the others who came here in that manner were younger, and in horrendous circumstances.”

“Abuse?” I asked.

“Often, severe abuse,” he said. “I’ve met a few and managed to guide them to families where they’ll be safe.”

“I’m grateful for that,” I said. “So, steer clear of the age conversation, at least until it becomes relevant, because there’s nothing we can do about it. Got it.”

“I suggest you create origin stories now, so that you have something to tell the people you meet. Someday, someone will ask. The worst thing you could do is paint a target on yourself. I won’t say don’t stand out, but just don’t stand out for the wrongreasons.” He sighed. “Getting into the realm to destroy Devastey will be easier than you expect. The true problem will be…being able to destroy both her and Zaran, because if he finds out you’re behind her death, then he’ll never stop.”

“Can’t we just stop him? Target him and then give the key to the Summer Queen?” I asked. “Oh wait…the key won’t come off my neck. I’ll always be a target for anybody who wants to release Devastey, won’t I?”

“Now you see the scope of this issue. Once you find the prison—it’s a bubble dimension, you might call it, though that makes it sound lighthearted. But it’s truly a bubble created in space for confinement. Once you find it, the key will automatically open it if you know the exact place to stand. Luckily, Zaran has never been able to figure that out,” said Otsiano.

“Which is why Devastey hasn’t been freed yet. It’s not for lack of trying.”

“He’s been hunting for the answer for years, ever since Devastey was locked away and he managed to get hold of the key. He’ll be desperate, and as I said a few minutes ago, desperation can produce unexpected consequences.” The bear shifter looked up at the nearest tree and patted the trunk. “Hello, old friend. Keep our presence secret, will you? And ask your brethren to do so, as well.”

It was almost as though the forest gave a collective sigh, and the edge when we’d entered the trees vanished and I calmed down.

“Come now, let’s get back to the others and we can discuss what to do next,” Otsiano said. He led me back to the camp, where they were waiting with potato soup and hot bread.

All the way back, my mind was awhirl with thoughts, and I realized I was ready to get this over and done with.

CHAPTER 72: THE SECRET GARDEN

Dinner was actually tasty,given how simple it was, but the sage had made a big difference, along with some salt that Magdala had given us.

Otsiano asked us to spread out our map. He tapped the area we were in. “The Waypoint is about thirty miles from here, toward Mount Tanuragh. It’s at the base, in the outer foothills.” He pointed to a place on the map. “Right around there.”

Reggie marked it in pencil. “What about Devastey’s prison?”

“It’s close to the Waypoint, up on one of the mountain peaks. Queen Rheyna did her best to make the route as inhospitable as possible, but it’s possible to get there if you’re cautious. I’m not going to tell you where the keyport is—the place where the key will activate. Not yet, at least. I don’t want any chance of you knowing and then getting captured by someone…” He paused.

“You mean Zaran, right? If we got caught by Zaran and we knew the location, he could torture it out of us,” I said, shivering.

“Yes, actually,” he said, staring at the map.

“Wait,” Ray said. “Does Zaran think we know the location?”

Otsiano met his eyes. “Yes, he does. I’m certain of it.”

“That means, even if we don’t know, he’ll torture us, thinking we do,” Ray said. “We really need to avoid him catching us. He won’t just—” he stopped abruptly.

“He won’t just kill me for the key, you mean,” I said. “He’ll go after everyone in the party, thinking any one of us will know the location of…what did you call it? The keyport.” On one hand, I wanted to smack Ray for thinking that he and the others might be left alone if Zaran captured me, but I also understood his reasoning. All this time, they’d come with me, thinking I was the main target. Now, they knew they were all targets.

“We’ve got your back,” Thornhold said, scowling at Ray.