The Frozen Lake

“Is that the last of it?”

Tomyris dropped her armful of seaweed on the dinner table, then swiped the back of her hand across her sweaty forehead and nodded. “All that I could find.”

For the briefest instant, Tomyris watched Iola’s lavender hued face turn dark and pensive. Then, like a fresh breath of wind pushing aside storm clouds to show the sun, a comforting smile worked its way across her face, showing dainty fangs.

“We will make do,” Iola announced as she gathered up seaweed and strode off to the kitchen.

“There are less now,” Tomyris called after her. “Less every month! Soon we may not have enough to fuel your potions. We will run out of air, Mother.”

There was a long pause, then, “We cannot go above water, Tomyris. It is much too dangerous. The Emergence—”

“I know, I know.” Tomyris rolled her eyes. “Demons running hither and fro, corruption spreading, death and chaos and destruction.”

Iola huffed from the kitchen but didn’t respond. Tomyris rolled her eyes again and went to the living room window to gaze at her own reflection. Kinky curly blonde hair that framed a dark face and golden eyes stared back at her from the window pane. She poked at a fresh pimple on her cheek and sighed. Puberty, mother said. One of the many dubious benefits of being a new teenager.

She looked past her reflection and into what could be considered their backyard. A blood red shimmer glowed in the darkness; her mother’s magic, keeping the water at bay. Just beyond these walls lay the rest of the lake, hidden from prying eyes by thick layers of ice.

There was little in the way of sunlight here. Tomyris could barely remember the last time she’d stood in the sun, felt fresh on air her skin or ran until she dropped. Through her mother’s magic, she could swim in the freezing waters and collect the seaweed they needed to keep the spell alive, but that was the closest she’d come to freedom in what felt like years.

A twinge behind her eyes brought Tomyris’ hand up to her forehead. The headaches were getting worse, had been for days. Normally she would go to her mother for her medicine but lately Tomyris had decided to go without. The thick, tasteless potion cleared her headaches but left her sleepy and confused, like she were wrapped in a heavy blanket. Better to go without.

“Tomyris.”

Tomyris turned from the window and glared toward the kitchen. “What?” she called.

Iola stuck her head out of the kitchen doorway, her hands filled with seaweed and her white eyebrows furrowed. “What?” she asked.

“You called me?” Tomyris replied.

“No, I said nothing.” Iola gave Tomyris a suspicious look. “Are you feeling well, daughter?”

Tomyris forced herself to smile and nod. “Yes, of course. I must have imagined it.”

Tomyris stayed smiling until Iola disappeared back into the kitchen. Then she began to tremble. She’d heard the voice like it had come from just behind her shoulder, like a woman whispering in her ear. It had seemed so real. Could she really have imagined it?

“Tomyris. Where are you?”

She stiffened. It was back, louder now and more clear. She pressed her back against the wall and scanned the living room. There was no one here; no one came here, it had just been her and her mother for months. Hadn’t it? The headache increased until it hammered through her temples and seemed to vibrate her eyes in their sockets.

“Tomyris!”

Louder this time but not angry. No, whoever it was, she sounded desperate, frantic, and heartbroken. And familiar? Tomyris knew this voice, recognized it so fiercely that it brought tears to her eyes. The world around her tilted and she crashed down onto her knees.

“Tomyris?”

Iola, in the kitchen, her voice muffled through the pounding of Tomyris’ heart. Tomyris could barely see through the tears in her eyes but she could feel Iola’s hands on her shoulders and feel the press of a vial at her lips. She shook her head hard, dislodged the vial and sent the medicine within spraying out over the floor.

“Tomyris!” the voice shrieked. “Tomyris, talk to me! Where are you? My child, my daughter, where has she taken you?”

“I am here!” Tomyris screamed to the ceiling. “Here, here, I am here!”

The house shuddered. Rafters whined and the sound of shattering glass melded with Iola’s horrified scream. Tomyris felt something pull at her body, felt it wrap around her torso and lift her up. She hit the water and gasped at its coldness, then it was gone and a blast of freezing air hit her like a fist. Her headache vanished in an instant and she blinked her eyes open to see herself drifting toward shore.

A group of people waited for her there. But two stood out: a woman and a man. The woman was short but muscular with braided brown hair and a strange weapon strapped across her back. The man wore the knightly armor of Cēna Barēkara, Tomyris’ country, the one Iola said had been destroyed. Even from here Tomyris could see the tears on their faces and she wondered why they wept. And then they lowered her to the ground, where the woman caught her and the man wrapped a blanket around her shoulders.

“Tomyris! Oh my god, are you alright?” the woman asked as she wiped water from Tomyris’ face. “Don’t be afraid. I’m Ripley and this is Maddox. You probably…well, you probably don’t know who we are right now, but that’s ok.”

“We have someone here who can help you,” Maddox told Tomyris in a gentle voice. “Will you accept her help?”

Tomyris looked between the two of them and felt a wave of homesickness so intense it brought tears to her eyes. She couldn’t remember them but she knew she should have. A fog clouded her memories each time she tried to search her mind for these people, hid them from her so that she couldn’t remember. But she knew she trusted them and so she nodded at Maddox with a teary eyed smile.

A bald woman approached; a Scythian Sister, the silent warrior healers who fought alongside the knights and mages. She smiled at Tomyris and made a series of flowing hand motions.

-Hello, Tomyris. I am Lydia. May I lay hands?-

“Yes,” Tomyris whispered.

The Scythian pressed her cool hands against Tomyris’ temples. A rush of warmth swept through her body and she twitched as her headache returned twofold. Only Ripley’s arms around Tomyris’ waist kept her upright and she let out a low whimper as she felt something oily and hot seep from her pores to drip onto the ground.

Memories surged through Tomyris’ mind. Maddox and Ripley sneaking her out of Zamīna Suṭō; the battles they had fought to keep her safe; the time they had spent raising her since she had been no more than seven. Friends and family she’d forgotten; Tarabai, Arawelo, Ani, Leah, Corrie, Margie, Damon, all flashed before her eyes. Five years. She had forgotten five years of her life.

“Mom,” Tomyris whimpered as she turned to throw her arms around Ripley’s neck.

“Oh, my baby,” Ripley whispered. “I’m so happy to have you back!”

“You remember everything?” Maddox asked.

Tomyris pulled back and nodded with a giggle. “You’re Ripley, a soldier from Earth, brought here to Erde to help us fight off the Emergence. You’re Maddox, former commander of the Last Battalion. The Savior and the Champion.” She gave them a dramatic roll of her eyes. “How could I forget? No one ever stops talking about it!”

Ripley laughed and ruffled Tomyris’ wet hair. “Looks like those spells didn’t leave you with any kind of brain damage.”

Tomyris stiffened. “Where is she?”

Ripley’s face hardened into furious lines. “They have her in chains.”

“She called herself Iola,” Tomyris said with a shudder. “But, Mom, didn’t you kill Iola after she tried to kill Dad?”

Ripley laid a hand on Maddox’s shoulder. “I did. Let’s go figure out who this lady is. Stay here with Dad.”

“No.” Tomyris straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. “No, I want to know.”

Ripley smiled. “Alright.”

As they made their way to Iola, Tomyris noticed for the first time that the group of people she’d seen were a mixture of knights and mages. They clapped and greeted her as she passed, gave her their blessings, and welcomed her home. Tomyris’ heart felt full enough to burst; all these people had come here to rescue her, to bring her out of her spell and return her to her parents. How lucky she was.

Her smile faded as she caught sight of Iola. The woman sat on the muddy shore, her plain black trousers and grey shirt smeared with mud and her hair dripping wet. Chains held her arms behind her back and shackled her feet together at the ankles. Now that the spell had been broken, Tomyris realized how unfamiliar she looked, how foreign and strange. The lavender skin, the white hair, the fangs; she’d never noticed before but now she shivered with fear.

Iola was a Suṭō. Her people had held Tomyris captive as a child, had stolen Tomyris’ mother from the shores of the Surakhi'ā Strait and wounded her so badly she’d died soon after childbirth. Tomyris had been lucky enough to be taken in by a kindhearted Suṭō woman but her life hadn’t been easy there in Patriarch Ulrik's clan tower.

“Well, now,” Ripley began as she squatted down beside Iola. “I heard you’re Iola.”

The woman snarled and spat on the ground. “I am Iola.”

“That’s the thing. I killed Iola myself.” Ripley leaned in to examine the woman’s face. “You sure do look like her, only a lot younger. You’re her daughter.”

“I am Iola. I am her vengeance, her hatred, her power. As a child I swore to avenge my mother by hurting you the way you hurt her.”

“Ah. Maddox ruined her spell, making it impossible for her to have a pure child of Ikuutayuq. That put her on the path that eventually led to her death so you took my child.” Ripley stood and brushed the mud off her pants. “Your mother was a bloodthirsty murderer. Why didn’t you kill Tomyris? Why keep her down there like that?”

Iola glanced at Tomyris then clenched her jaw. “I will speak to you no more.”

“Fine.” Ripley nodded at the knights standing guard. “Take her away.”

“What will they do with her?” Tomyris asked as the guards dragged Iola away.

Ripley draped her arm over Tomyris’ shoulders and shrugged. “That’s up to you. You were down there for nearly four months. Did she hurt you?”

“No.” Tomyris glanced over her shoulder to see Iola gazing at her with a mixture of regret and grief. “No, she never hurt me. She seemed…normal. Kind.”

“Well.” Ripley kissed Tomyris’ forehead then led her away from the lake. “Let’s just get out of here. We can figure out what to do with her when we get home.”

Tomyris glanced over her shoulder. The frozen lake sparkled at her, glinted in the muted light that filtered down through heavy snow clouds. She could see where the hole had been torn in the ice; it had shattered the lake’s face, splintered it into pieces so that shards of ice bobbed along its surface. Beyond the lake it seemed peaceful, idyllic almost, and she let a smile cross her face.

A gust of fresh wind pushed the clouds aside. Tomyris walked between her adopted parents as the bright sun shone down on them and chased the cold away.