The Fire Bringers: An I Bring the Fire Short Story (IBF Part 6.5) Read Online Free

those who can World Walk without technological intervention. Durga’s in no danger, she’ll just walk over to the Gate and—
    Durga vanishes.
    For a moment, Amy thinks the feed is dying. She taps her phone repeatedly, and then she sees the guards running over to the gate. Amy bolts through the door, down the hallway, and up to the former ballroom that houses the gate to the Tenth Realm. Gripping her phone tightly, she siphons all of the magic off of it, and before the guards can ask her questions, she leaps up onto the platform. Rainbow light envelopes her, and she is in the Tenth Realm.
    She blinks down at her feet. The forest floor beneath her is rich black hummus. She lifts her head — the mountainous forest around her is unusually dry, and the smell of rotting vegetation is not as strong as usual. On every side, enormous fernlike trees with wilted pastel blue leaves obscure a yellow sun. Magic tickles her senses, and a hum comes from about four feet in front of her. There, on the ground, is a copper and gold circular device, about six inches high. Concentric circles of glowing pink mark its face. It is a magical “blind generator.” It makes the people within a ten foot radius invisible to the Lemurlikes and other animals of the Tenth Realm.
    “Dr. Lewis, don’t worry, we’ve got her!” says a voice. Amy spins in place. A Fire Giant woman dressed in human field gear is balancing Durga on one arm.
    The woman smiles. “Did she World Walk without you?”
    “Yes,” Amy says, running over to the woman and taking Durga from her arms. The team of two human scientists and a Light Elf mage chuckle. The Light Elf says, “When my children started to do that, it was worse than when they learned to walk.”
    Amy can’t laugh. Bohdi told her that Durga was exhibiting World-Walk readiness, and he had gone on what Amy had thought was a paranoia-fueled mission to close even the smallest World Gates within a mile of their home—even a public one to Alfheim. The local alderman thinks it broke of its own accord. Only Steve, Bohdi, and Amy know otherwise.
    Amy bites her lip and clutches Durga close, overwhelmed by relief, guilt and shame. “Never do that again.” Of course Bohdi would know better than she does; Bohdi spends more time with Durga.
    The destructive side of Chaos is great when the odds are against you. Steve’s new administration was happy to have Bohdi on their side in the beginning—even encouraged him to hold onto Laevithin when they had enemies that needed slain. That had changed as Steve had restored order. Suddenly, Bohdi’s ability to break things without even trying was not as welcome.
    Bohdi had eventually gotten tired of the hostility toward him in the administration. He remained friends and an advisor to Steve, but he’d gone on to independent career paths. He cleaned up in the stock markets—until he was banned from every stock exchange in the Nine Realms for eternity. And he is barred, by law, from coming within three hundred meters of any gambling establishment. He still occasionally takes jobs in security consulting, but professionally, he isn’t as busy as Amy. He’s been Durga’s primary caregiver ... and it’s worked. She thinks Bohdi’s magic, and the natural childhood inclination toward chaotic death and dismemberment cancel each other out.
    Amy presses her nose to Durga’s pigtails. Maybe for a little girl who is blue, and has wings and a tail, having a father who has long since accepted Chaos and change … Well, Durga couldn’t have a better Dad. Her face flushes. She wanted to give him a break today—to let him sleep in, but she should have trusted him …
    Completely oblivious to Amy’s pain, Durga leans over her shoulder and pipes up excitedly, “I see blue people!”
    Instead of following Durga’s gaze, Amy quickly scans the ground beyond the survey site. All she sees is dense blue foliage that looks drier than normal, and none of the husks of the red nut fruit that are