Will-o'-the-Wisp

“Tomyris, don’t go too far ahead!”

Tomyris huffed with annoyance but slowed her headlong sprint to a slow jog. How old were her parents anyway? Maybe if they weren’t so busy holding hands and fawning over each other they’d move a little bit faster. And maybe if they weren’t so short. Tomyris was almost as tall as Mom and gaining on Dad. Apparently, Tomyris’ family, her real family, had been very tall.

Bo didn’t seem to mind their slowness. Bo walked right alongside their parents, chattering away about this thing that happened in school or that animal she found in the woods. Silly things, all of it. Tomyris huffed again and reached up to play with her kinky curly golden hair. Ani had put it up in braids just last night, with Mom watching and learning. Her hair was special, Mom said, different than hers or Dad’s or Bo’s. It needed special care and things called protective styles that would keep her hair safe from damage.

Tomyris huffed to herself again. People called her and her sister polar opposites, in looks, anyway. Boudicca had swirling silver eyes, pale skin, and stick straight hair as grey as their grandmother’s hair. Tomyris had yellow eyes, dark brown skin, and golden hair. She guessed she and Boudicca would look different. They weren’t real sisters, after all, but they got along.

The bright lights that ringed the fairgrounds stole the breath from Tomyris’ lungs. Lighting orbs danced high in the sky and bathed the ground with a warm white light. More winked out from bushes, flashing blues, reds, purples, and a dozen other colors that dazzled Tomyris’ eyes. She could hear people laughing, children shrieking as they played, and she turned to give her parents a pleading look.

“Can I please go play?” she begged.

Her mother hesitated, her brow furrowed as she chewed at her bottom lip. “We should stay together, Tomyris.”

Dad patted Mom’s shoulder. “Come, now, Ripley, it is the fair and we are in the heart of Cēna Barēkara! What could happen here? And how old are you now, anyway, Tom-Tom?”

“Come on, Dad, you know I’m twelve,” Tomyris replied as she crossed her skinny arms over her chest.

“That is so.” Dad pressed a kiss to Mom’s cheek. “She will be fine, wife, I promise.”

Mom sighed. “God, Maddox, you big freaking softy. All she has to do is bat those puppy dog eyes at you and you give in!” Mom kissed Dad’s cheek with a teasing smile then turned back to Tomyris. “Fine, Tomyris, go play, but I want you to stay in sight of a knight or Scythian Sister at all times!”

Tomyris rolled her eyes. “Fine, Mom.”

“Here,” Dad told Tomyris as he held out a coin pouch with a wink. “Try not to spend it all in one place.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Mom knelt and took hold of Tomyris’ shoulders. “You’re my baby, but you’re also this country’s next leader. You need to keep yourself safe. Ok?”

Tomyris squirmed and nodded. “Ok, ok, can I go now?”

“Go on. Have fun and stay safe!”

Tomyris took off as soon as Mom’s hands left her shoulders. She hated hearing about how she would soon be queen, about how it didn’t matter what she wanted in life. All these people cared about was her bloodline, her real mother and father that she’d never met. King Kllamus had died before she’d been born and her mother had died in childbirth. All she felt for them was a vague sense of sadness but they were all anyone ever wanted to talk about.

It made her angry in a way she couldn’t quite describe. Angry and uncomfortable, like these people couldn’t see her for who she was, only who they wanted her to be. It hadn’t bothered her when she was younger; in fact, it had made her feel special. Mom said puberty would give her mood swings and she guessed maybe that was why she felt so aggravated. In her heart, Tomyris knew that they were only trying to help. Mom and Dad loved her and wanted the best for her. Even Bo was a good sister most of the time. But she couldn’t help feeling angry at all of them.

“Hey.”

Tomyris turned to see Bo skipping up beside her and frowned. “I didn’t think you’d leave Mom and Dad.”

“Come on.” Bo grinned and gave Tomyris a playful shove. “I want to have fun, too.”

Tomyris tried to stay angry, she really did. But it wasn’t in her nature and so she giggled and nodded. “Ok! Let’s go see what kind of games they have.”

The two girls took off. They squeezed through the crowded street lined with patrolling knights and found their first game, a little booth loaded with bottles. Tomyris stared up at the prizes, rows upon rows of stuffed animals, food, and spelled objects. A line of children worked hard to aim a little ring around the bottle neck, though none of them had managed it so far.

“How many?" Bo asked the vendor.

“Two rings for a Mynt, ten rings for a note,” he told her with a kind smile.

“We’ll take two.”

Bo handled the exchange with an adult-like grace. There were times when Tomyris thought maybe Bo should be queen. She had a certain way about her, a confidence, that Tomyris didn’t feel. Tomyris didn’t know where she got it from. One of Arawelo’s sisters had run a decades long eugenics experiment and Bo’s birth was the long-awaited result. Bo had grown up in a cage, motherless save for Arawelo, undergone an awful brain surgery, and could hear voices from the Beyond.

Tomyris had also grown up in Zamīna Suṭō. Her mother had been kidnapped on the shores of the Surakhi'ā Strait and had handed Tomyris over to a Patriarch’s wife before she died. Tomyris had grown up under Lady Risok’s careful eye, her dark skin hidden beneath layers of purple paint and her hair dyed white to match the Suṭō. It hadn’t worked; the Suṭō had tormented Tomyris to the point where she didn’t speak her first word until she was seven years old.

Maybe having the voices helped Bo in some way. Maybe they whispered advice in her ear. It certainly seemed so; even now, Bo launched a ring and landed it perfectly around the neck of a bottle. She threw her second one and it gave off a pleasant tinkling sound as it settled around the bottle.

Bo grinned up at the shocked vendor. “I’ll have the spelled ball, please. Tom-Tom, what do you want?”

Tomyris tapped her finger on her lips. “That one, the talking bear.”

The vendor handed the prizes over with a sullen look on his face. Tomyris and Bo giggled as they raced over to a vendor selling fried pastries. Coins changed hands and soon both girls were munching down on their unhealthy treats.

“I love the fair,” Bo said around bites. “It’s always so pretty.”

“This one seems better than the rest.” Tomyris cuddled her bear under her arm and gave her sister a skeptical look. “How’d you know how to throw that ring?”

Bo pointed a finger up to the night sky. “The voices, of course.”

“You seem…better with them,” Tomyris hedged, thinking back to a time when Bo had had episode after episode; catatonia, screaming fits, bursts of violence. “They don’t upset you as much as they did.”

“Training with the Scythian Sisters helped. I can keep them quiet, make some room in my own head.” Bo finished off her treat and wiped her hands on her pants. “Come on! I want to try that game, the one with the spells.”

Tomyris finished her own treat and wiped her fingers, careful not to get sugar on the bear. As she took a step forward to follow her sister, something caught her eye. A green light, no more than a pinprick, flashing at her in the darkness. It disappeared, then reappeared a little further away and blinked at her.

Tomyris glanced around. The knights were on watch for wayward children; this was their capital but that didn’t mean they didn’t have crime. Tomyris knew no city was perfect and Rājadhānī was no exception. But she felt curious and a little thrilled at the thought of a tiny rebellion. She could go, see what the light was and be back before anyone even knew she was gone.

A child slipped and fell with a loud screech. Knights ran to him and, when they turned their backs, Tomyris darted into the darkness, clutching her bear tight. The light rewarded her with a long blink, then darted away further into the gardens surrounding the fairgrounds. Tomyris chased it through the grass, around bushes and trees, and came out into a small graveyard.

She drew up short at the sight of a tall, lithe woman standing beside a tombstone. The woman wore a black cloak with the cowl pulled low over her eyes and that green light played over her fingers. Tomyris’ fingers tightened on the teddy bear as the woman turned and made a surprised sound.

“Oh, my, what have we here?”

“Hello,” Tomyris said nervously. “I’m sorry; I saw the light and I…”

“Oh, my pet? Would you like to see it?” The woman crouched down and held out her hand with the green light cupped in her palm. “Come. It will not hurt you.”

Tomyris looked back toward the fairgrounds. In the distance, she could hear Bo calling her name and she almost turned back. But she’d come this far. She wanted to sate her curiosity, see what the little thing was, and then she’d go back. Everything would be fine.

She set the bear down and crossed the graveyard toward the woman. With every step she felt more confident, more sure, and, when she got close enough, she reached out her hand. The light stretched toward her like one of her mother’s cats, slow and lazy, and it brushed over her fingers with the slightest touch.

Tomyris had a glimpse of the woman’s face. Lavender skin, small but sharp fangs, snow white hair. Smoke rose up around her, choking Tomyris, and she heard her mother’s voice join Bo’s. They were searching for her and she tried to scream, to tell them where she was, but she couldn’t find enough air. Darkness ate away at her vision and Tomyris slipped into a restless sleep.

***

“Daughter, it’s time to wake up.”

Tomyris blinked her eyes open. A smiling woman with light purple skin and white hair leaned over her, shaking her shoulder. “Come now, sleepy head, it’s time to harvest the crops.”

Tomyris rubbed her temples. “My head hurts,” she complained. “And I had such strange dreams.”

The woman’s face darkened. She reached into her robes and pulled out a vial filled with swirling black liquid. “Drink your medicine,” the woman ordered. “You will feel better.”

A voice echoed in Tomyris’ ears. A woman’s voice, filled with desperation and heartbreak. Thinking about it made her head pound and Tomyris obeyed, tipped the vial to her lips, and let it rush down her throat.

Mother patted Tomyris’ hair with a gentle hand. “There. Don’t you feel better?”

“Much better. Thank you.”

“Of course.” Mother opened the drapes to reveal the darkness outside; the water outside their simple home, held back by magic. “We need the ingredients to keep the spell going. We don’t want the demons finding out where we’re hiding.”

“Alright.” Tomyris stood and stretched before going to where she kept her waterproofed clothes. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”

“I’ll have breakfast ready.” Mother bent down and pressed a kiss to Tomyris’ forehead. “You’re my precious angel, Tomyris. I love you.”

For a heartbeat, Mother’s toothy smile looked sinister. Then the potion surging through Tomyris’ veins buried the thought beneath layers of magic and she smiled back.

“I love you, too, Mother.”