Outside the Fates’ home, only dried bits of seaweed and algae remained on the rocks, remnants of the great beast. Tazo’s hooves clip-clopped on the stone as they made their way toward the fire stables.
The sky seemed close, curving above them, dim and still. Usually, the weather on Mount Olympus was always changing: winds and rainbows, storms and sunshine. But not now. It was all wrong.
Pippa’s stomach twisted with worry. Zeus had said the horses were gone. Did that mean the foals too? Where had Poseidon taken them? What if they weren’t just hidden . . . but worse?
And what about Bellerophon? She had grown fond of the blustering groom who had taught her so much, not only about the horses and riding but also about not giving up, about believing in herself. She hoped he was safe.
Poseidon must be really jealous of Zeus, thought Pippa. Her fingers reached for the coin in her pocket, and she gripped it tightly.
Pippa understood something about jealousy. Often she’d watched families in the agora and felt a deep ache. It was unfair; she wished she had one too. She was even jealous of Hero a little. He was clearly proud of his family. It would be nice to talk about hers. But that would mean she would need to know something about them. There hadn’t been a chance to ask Zeus about her family. But later. Once she’d rescued the horses. Then he would have to answer her questions.
Although Bas’s family had welcomed her in, it couldn’t make up for the past. Bas’s sisters had grown up with a mother to teach them how to be proper young women. They knew who they were and who they were going to be. But Pippa felt . . . lost. There was a huge chasm between who she thought she was and who she was expected to be, and no map to guide her.
Yet despite her jealousy, she’d never act on it. She was not like Poseidon.
Before long they emerged from the rocks and Hero, obviously feeling safe again, began to talk.
“Those fire stables are bound to be dangerous. No wonder Zeus wanted me to come with you.” He adjusted his cloak. “Zeus must have seen this cloak and known who I am. My father says that everyone recognizes this cloak. He used to wear it himself when he was young—until he killed his own lion. You should see the cloak he wears now! My father is very strong and powerful. He protects everyone in the town. He’s even good friends with the Oracle.”
Before Pippa could comment, Hero went on. “Zeus knows I’ll be able to protect us. And I bet Melanippe knows all about the winged horses and where they are. Maybe they’re even hidden with her. This should be easy.” He pulled out a honey cake and offered it to Pippa. “Would you like a snack?”
“Hush,” said Pippa. “Look.”
According to the map, they should have arrived. But she couldn’t see any stables. There were no buildings nearby or caves dug into the rock cliffs that loomed up beside them. The parched meadow surrounding them was home to only a few boulders and a scattering of stunted pine.
“I don’t understand,” said Pippa. “The map worked fine before.”
“Hush.” This time it was Hero who said it. He cupped a hand around his ear. Tazo had his ears pricked, as if he was listening to something too.
Actually, Pippa could hear something. Thumping coming from below them.
She stared at the ground, then back up at Hero. Maybe the map was right. Maybe they were at the stables. Maybe the stables were right beneath them!
But where was the entrance? Pippa scoured the earth but couldn’t see anything. She looked back at the map to make sure. Hero peered over her shoulder.
Yes, there was the symbol of the fire stables, and this time, it showed a crack, a zigzaggy line beside it. She touched the spot wonderingly, then looked at their surroundings again—and blinked.
Although it hadn’t been there before, a huge crack in the earth had appeared in front of them.
“Whoa!” cried Hero, rubbing his eyes.
“The mountain’s magic,” breathed Pippa. Or was it the magic of the map itself? No matter what the Fates said, she was pretty sure it was helping her. She was definitely sure of one thing though. This was the entrance, and it was growing wider and wider with every second. As it did, the thumping was joined by the sound of voices.
“I can’t believe we have to work here. I miss Mount Etna. This fire river is pathetic,” came a piercing whine.
“At least you don’t have a bad eye,” replied another voice. “This light is horrible. Doesn’t she realize it’s hard enough for me to see? How does she expect me to forge metal down here? A hundred of these harnesses—this will take us weeks! And for what? The winged horses are already trapped.”
“She just doesn’t want them moving at all,” said the first voice. “She’s so particular.”
Harnesses? Winged horses? Pippa’s heart pounded. She glanced at Hero.
“Maybe you’re right,” she whispered. “Maybe the horses are down here.”
Soon they’d see for themselves, for the crack was growing even bigger. She, Hero, and Tazo had to hurriedly move out of its way, so as not to slip down.
The crack grew bigger and bigger still until, at last, it stopped, leaving an entrance in the center of the earth, with a path leading down it.
Pippa, Hero, and even Tazo peered down.
Below lay an enormous, shadowy cavern lit by oil sconces hung from the walls, with, at the far end, a glowing river. It bubbled and crackled, licking at the sides of the rocks like a red tongue. Pippa could feel its heat even from up above.
But the creatures in the center of the cavern were what truly drew her attention.
Two giants!
They filled the space, their skin the color of the surrounding rock and rough-looking. Hair grew on their backs in clumps like moss. They were wearing simple loincloths and nothing else.
“Cyclopes,” breathed Hero.
Of course. Although she couldn’t see their faces, which were turned downward to their work, these were surely the one-eyed monsters who worked with Hephaestus, the god of metalwork, in his forge in the volcanic center of Mount Etna. They had created Poseidon’s trident and Hades’s helmet of invisibility. Most important of all, they were the ones who forged Zeus’s thunder and lightning. They weren’t forging thunder and lightning now though. They were standing at a rock table, one with a piece of leather in his hands, the other with a hammer larger than Pippa’s head. Beside them was a mountain of finished harnesses.
“I’d rather get shocked by lightning bolts than see another piece of this leather,” the first complained.
“At least you don’t have to work with this hammer. It’s a toy,” grunted the other.
“If it were up to me, I’d just let the horses fly away!”
“Hush!” said the second. “We don’t want her hearing. Personally, I’d prefer no more visits from Achlys.”
Achlys? Pippa hadn’t heard of her.
Hero shuddered. “That’s the goddess of misery,” he whispered. “She must be working with Poseidon. Pippa, we’ve got to leave.”
Pippa shook her head. She peered at the map. “The stables are here. Farther down. We have to pass them.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” murmured Hero. “We can’t walk through the cavern. They’ll see us.”
“We have to,” whispered Pippa firmly.
“There’s got to be another option.” Hero leaned over at the map. “Let me look . . .” He reached for it.
“No,” said Pippa, pulling it back, while at the same time inadvertently bumping into Tazo.
Tazo whinnied, and his hooves slipped over the edge. He didn’t fall though. His wings lifted, and for a moment he seemed to hover, but there was no time to celebrate. His hooves knocked some loose rocks down into the open. They fell with a clatter, the noise reverberating throughout the cavern.
The Cyclopes swiveled their humongous heads up.
“What’s that?”
“Who’s there?”
Their huge eyes blinked in unison. First at Pippa and Hero. Then at Tazo.
Their giant e
yes grew even rounder.
Pippa staggered back, pulling Tazo.
“You! Stop!” came the giants’ dreadful roar.
“Now look what you’ve done!” cried Hero.
“Me?” exclaimed Pippa.
But there was no time to argue. The Cyclopes lurched toward the hole, their enormous eyes blazing. One, two, three strides and they were there, hairier, smellier, bigger than Pippa could ever imagine.
Pippa stumbled, tugging at Tazo . . . his wings lifted, knocking the map out of her hand.
It rolled up with a bounce, and as it did, the ground seemed to roll up too, the entrance becoming smaller and smaller.
“HEY! STOP THAT!” cried the Cyclopes. He raised his huge hammer over his head and launched it through the shrinking entrance.
“Duck!” said Hero, falling to the ground. Pippa did, just in time. The hammer whistled over her head and crashed into a tree behind her.
She turned back to the hole—only as big as a giant’s head now. . . .
There was a yell from below. “What a pathetic scrap of metal.”
A massive, hairy hand reached through the hole, grasping for them, but the rocks continued closing around it, forcing it to pull back.
And then another yell, echoing off the walls of the cavern. “Stupid mortals! What do you think you’re trying to do? You’re going to get yourselves killed!”
“Killed . . . killed . . . killed . . .”
Twelve
Even with the entrance gone, Pippa trembled. Hero’s face was pale. He lay flat on the ground and he wasn’t moving.
“Are you okay?” Pippa asked.
Hero picked himself up. “H-Hercules would never have let himself get into this situation! We—we . . . should have left when I said so.”
He was okay. Just scared, like her.
“They were terrifying, weren’t they?” said Pippa gently. “Thank the Fates that—”
“I’m not scared,” huffed Hero, “just surprised. And there’s no use thanking the Fates. They don’t help. Didn’t you hear Zeus? Besides, if the Fates helped, then I wouldn’t . . .” He paused. His cheeks turned red.
“Wouldn’t what?” asked Pippa.
“Never mind,” Hero said. “Well, now we know what to do. It’s time to go back. We’d better tell Zeus that it’s impossible.”
“Go back?” Pippa shook her head. “Surely there’s another way in. A rear entrance that we could sneak through or . . .”
“That will probably be guarded too,” Hero said as Pippa scanned the map.
She couldn’t see one anyway, but the map had been changing this whole time, so maybe it would again.
“Yes, I knew it.” She pointed to an imaginary spot. “There is a rear entrance.”
“Where . . . ,” started Hero, peering over her shoulder.
Pippa quickly rolled it up. “Just follow me.”
Maybe she shouldn’t lie to him, but he was keeping secrets from her.
Hero didn’t seem to notice. “If only we knew if it was guarded or not. You know, Hercules wasn’t surprised with his tasks. I bet he wouldn’t have faced those Cyclopes, at least not without a plan.”
Hero gave a big sniff, then looked over at the colt. “I was right, what I said to Zeus. Tazo is pretty much flying,” he went on proudly.
“Hovering,” corrected Pippa, though she was proud of Tazo too. Still, she couldn’t help thinking of Zeph and how once he could really fly. It would be much easier to find the fire stables if she could soar on his back now.
“Well, it was amazing,” Hero said, patting Tazo on his nose. Tazo gave a funny snort that sounded like a purr.
“He does that when he’s happy,” noted Hero.
As Hero jabbered on—his spirits clearly revived—Pippa stopped listening, glancing back again at the map, hoping to see something new. Nothing. She sighed and stuck it in her pocket.
How did the map work? It was a secret that rested with the Fates. And what about Hero’s secrets? What was he hiding from her? I’m so tired of secrets and mysteries, she thought as she rubbed her coin, wondering for the thousandth time about her parents. If her parents were alive, how different would her life be? Would she be in a courtyard now, helping her mother prepare food instead of escaping from one-eyed monsters on an impossible quest?
What were the Cyclopes doing with those harnesses? Maybe they were keeping the horses underground, all locked up. The thought of winged horses under dirt and darkness made her heart ache.
It was more important than ever to find a way in. But which way to go? The sight of something gold, shimmering in the distance beckoned her. Maybe it’s a sign, she thought. She led them toward it.
As they marched on, Pippa took heart.
It did feel magical this way.
The rocks, instead of gray, were black and shimmery, slippery even. White-gold feathers were scattered here and there, so bright they were like slivers of sunbeams stuck in the rocks. Amber-weeping black poplar trees lined the way, along with a tree she had never seen before that smelled sweet, honey-like and earthy.
The golden object she’d seen at a distance was becoming clearer. It looked like an archway, sticking up from behind a black rock.
“Is that it?” asked Hero.
Pippa nodded, quickening her pace.
But it wasn’t.
It was a chariot. At least part of one. A wheel hub of what once was surely the most beautiful chariot in the world, made of gold and decorated in gems. There lay a spoke, there a piece of the carriage. There the harness, with patterns of gorgeous gems and chrysolites, gleaming like tiny suns. Feathers lay scattered across the pieces like a shroud.
Everything glittered, except . . . Pippa blinked.
Suspended from one broken spoke was something strange. A dark hole, hanging in the middle of the air. Pippa reached for it, her fingers trembling. When she touched it, her fingers disappeared into darkness too, as though the thing had eaten them. She quickly pulled back. Her skin tingled.
What was it? Was it a clue to who had done this? Before she could ask him what he thought, Hero waved his hand across the broken chariot.
“This isn’t an entrance,” he said. “This belongs to a god. This is—this was—Helios’s chariot. His sun chariot.” Hero’s voice wavered.
“But then how is Helios drawing the sun into the sky every morning?” wondered Pippa aloud. Even as she asked this, however, she remembered that the sun hadn’t been rising to its full height, only just reaching the horizon. Maybe that was why. Helios was having problems.
“Pippa, show me the map,” Hero went on. “Where are we? Where’s the entrance?”
“Actually . . . ,” started Pippa.
“There isn’t a back entrance, is there?” Hero’s eyes narrowed. “You were lying to me, weren’t you? I can’t believe it!”
Tazo snorted. He was frightened by the feathers, and she couldn’t blame him. “It’s okay,” she soothed.
“It’s not okay! Stop saying that!” pouted Hero. He stamped his foot.
STOMP!
Suddenly, the ground fell away. A secret door opened up below them.
And Pippa, Hero, and Tazo plunged, feetfirst, into darkness.
Thirteen
“AHHHHHHhhhh!!!” Hero screamed.
Pippa’s stomach lodged in her throat, and she felt like she might be sick. She couldn’t see a thing.
Stone, smooth as glass, rubbed hot against her skin as she slid down what she could only imagine was a tunnel. Fast . . . faster through blackness so complete she felt like she had been swallowed by one of the Cyclopes.
There was something about darkness that made Pippa feel like she was in a place between dreams and sleep, beyond all that was real. It almost felt as if she had been there before, trapped in such impenetrable darkness. There was a voice—“I have no choice. I have to leave her”—and the sound of sobbing. Could it be . . . her mother? Were they falling into the Underworld? This wasn’t how she wanted to find out he
r answers!
“Please, stop,” she begged the voice.
A light bloomed below her—and the voice stopped, as if in answer to her plea. But instead of getting better, things grew worse.
Pippa was sliding toward a light that, as it grew bigger, grew hotter. . . . She could just make out Hero in front of her. She couldn’t see the colt.
“Fire!” cried Hero. “Pippa, FIRE!”
The heat blazed upward; he was right. They were quickly nearing an opening to the tunnel. And below that lay a pool of bubbling lava.
“Stop!” shrieked Hero.
Pippa struggled to sit up and clutched frantically at the sides, but now, in the hot light, she could see the tunnel was, in fact, made of black glass and there was nothing she could grab on to except some white-gold feathers, slicked to it.
The tunnel swooped up a little, which could have slowed them enough to prevent their fall. Except they were going too fast. She looked down to see, with a gut-wrenching whoosh, Hero slide out over the edge.
He was gone! She slid out after him, feeling only air under her now, as she tumbled toward the pool of lava . . .
Thud!
She landed with a thump, half on top of Hero. They hadn’t fallen in the lava! But then what? Where were they? She couldn’t see. The heat was too much, her eyes burned and filled with tears, and she had to shield them.
Pippa felt the ground, whatever it might be, moving beneath her. Was it an earthquake?
Everything spun.
There was a jerk and a bounce. A wave of wind brushed over her, like a delicious kiss. She was moving.
She let out a long breath and, at last, opened her eyes.
She was lying in a chariot. Hero lay beside her. But was it a chariot?
Groggily, she sat up, and rubbed her eyes.
It was actually a boat. Still, like a chariot, it was being pulled by a horse attached to the yoke. The strangest, most fearsome horse she’d ever seen. Its mane and tail were made of fire! They blazed and crackled, just like the lava pool behind them. The horse lifted its head to gaze at Pippa, and its amber eyes bore into hers.
A fire horse. Could this be the fire stables?
The Colt of the Clouds Page 6