At the top of the stairs, she gasped. A grand marble hallway stretched as far as she could see. The ceiling reached so high it felt like she was staring up at a milky-colored sky. Mosaics made of gemstones decorated the walls in swirling images of the gods and goddesses performing great feats. Athena offering the olive tree to a mortal. Poseidon creating the first horse with his powerful trident. Aphrodite rising from the sea in a giant scallop shell. Hera’s apple tree—the fruit so red she was tempted to reach out and pick it.
Pippa had never been inside the gods’ palace. Most of her previous time on the mountain had been spent training Zeph. Once, she and the riders had been invited to the palace for a feast, but the gods and goddesses had been fighting and so it was canceled. Did the gods ever stop fighting? wondered Pippa. She hadn’t been to the great ceremony at the end of the race either because she and Bas had been disqualified and sent home.
Where would Nyx keep Tazo? Perhaps on the roof?
She had to hurry. Who knew how long Hero’s story would keep Achlys occupied.
Pippa ran down the hall, searching for stairs, slipping off her sandals because they made too much noise—especially when she encountered puddles of water, hints that sea monsters had been living here. Seaweed hung from some of the mosaics, and salt crusted on the walls in white swirling patterns.
But there were no actual monsters. No sirens or hippocampi or hydra. Whenever she came to a corner, she listened for voices. If Nyx had employed her daughter, Achlys, to guard the prisoners, and her son, Morpheus, to patrol the mountain, she probably had other children roaming the palace, doing her bidding. Nyx had birthed many of the gods and goddesses. Pippa couldn’t remember them all, but she knew Nyx had been around even before Zeus.
None of Nyx’s children were wandering the halls, however. No one was. The corridors seemed to go on forever, each more magnificent than the last and just as empty. Pippa imagined all the gods and goddesses and their attendants filling up the space and how different it must be.
She slowed when she reached a hall decorated with winged horses soaring between blue-tiled clouds and the ceiling: a mosaic of the race. She couldn’t help following the horses until the hall ended in a courtyard.
There, a fountain bubbled, not with water but with a shimmering liquid that smelled so sweet it made her mouth water.
Ambrosia! The drink of the gods and goddesses. The drink of immortality.
Ambrosia made a mortal into a demigod or demigoddess. If she took just one sip, she would be like Sophia. She could live on the mountain forever.
One sip, and she wouldn’t have to worry about the future anymore. She wouldn’t have to return to lessons and impractical clothing and acting like a proper young lady.
The smell was intoxicating. Pippa took a step forward, and another. Before she realized it, she was standing over the fountain, the liquid right below her, bubbling like music.
She dipped her hands into it and cupped a mouthful, watching it change colors in her hands—first red like wine, then blue like the sea, then gold like the sun.
If she was immortal, she’d be able to find out her own answers. Being immortal would solve everything.
Or would it?
If she was immortal she’d have to stay on the mountain—with the gods. Zeph lived below. Would she ever see him again?
A distant whinny broke the hold the sweet-smelling substance had over her.
Tazo!
Pippa separated her hands, the ambrosia spilling back into the fountain.
The whinny came again. Ambrosia was not the answer. Not now.
She ran from the courtyard, toward the sound, past columns of gold and silver, past statues that looked only a step away from being alive, past trees growing like a forest from the stones, to a room that wasn’t really a room because it didn’t have a roof but opened straight into the sky.
There, in robes of sky herself, with wings of woven stars, was the great goddess Nyx.
Twenty-One
Pippa froze in the doorway.
Nyx was standing in the middle of the room, her back to Pippa. The tips of her folded wings brushed the earth. In front of the goddess, Pippa could just make out Tazo. He hadn’t been turned to stars yet! Pecklion was tied in a corner, his ears pressed back and his rooster’s comb sticking straight up in fear.
“Fly! Fly!” Nyx shouted at Tazo.
Tazo’s wings lifted, but he didn’t move.
“Stupid horse!” Nyx spat. “You’re the last of your kind and yet you will not fly! FLY!” she demanded.
Tazo’s body trembled and his wings quivered.
“Pah! I have had enough of you.” Nyx pulled out a whip from her robes. It looked like a giant black snake. “You shall be the dimmest star in my sky,” she declared.
The goddess of night raised the whip over her head.
Pippa leaped from the doorway. “NO!” she cried. Nyx turned and glared.
Now that Pippa was face-to-face with her, she could see the goddess in all her glory.
Her hair was black, streaked with glittering white as if shooting stars had fallen through it, and a glowing moon hung around her neck. Her lips were lush and deep crimson, the color of summer sunsets. Although Nyx was goddess of night, of darkness, Pippa couldn’t imagine a more radiant being. Even her eyes were white, with no trace of black.
She pointed her whip at Pippa.
“Mortal!” she said, her voice full of venom. “You escaped.”
Pippa stuck her hand in her pocket, clutching her coin for courage.
“Perhaps I should dispose of mortals altogether. All they do is cause trouble.” Nyx raised her whip again.
“Don’t hurt him!” Pippa cried.
“Him? Ha! First you, then him!” Nyx laughed, and brought the whip snapping down.
It cracked across Pippa’s body, and for a moment, there was a blinding flash. She heard a distant whinny and felt a shock buzz through her body.
She was sure this was it. Everything was over. But when the flash faded, she was still there, Nyx hovering over her, whip in hand.
“Impossible!” cried Nyx. “How did you not transform?”
Slowly Pippa sat up. She wasn’t dead or turned into stars. In fact, she wasn’t hurt at all. Only a small spot of her dress had been burned away, the pocket with her coin in it. She felt for it, and the coin fell out with a clink, rolling across the marble floor.
“What’s this?” Nyx stepped on the coin to stop it from rolling. She picked it up and flipped it between her long fingers. “I know this.”
She threw the coin back at Pippa, who scrambled to catch it.
“So you are the child of the winged horse thieves.”
“Winged horse thieves?” Pippa faltered, clutching her coin tightly. Images flashed in her mind—the statue that marked the Graveyard of Wings, the coin around Euippe’s neck that was identical to hers. Euippe had recognized Pippa although she’d never seen her before. Was that what Euippe was trying to tell her? Could it be? Were Pippa’s parents the mortals who had helped heal the injured winged horses? At last, after all this time, had she really found out who her parents were, from Nyx herself?
“You must be,” continued Nyx, “if you carry that coin. It was the token they left in the night to let each other know a new horse was ready. And I suppose it is a powerful protective charm too. But you can’t protect yourself forever. At least your parents couldn’t.”
Nyx’s beautiful lips curled back in a grimace. “Everyone uses my darkness to commit their bad deeds, and I was—I am—sick and tired of it! I put an end to your parents’ thievery. Yes, I remember that night. I made it so dark that those mortals were lost—not for hours, or days, but for forever. First the man, then the woman. I thought the child had died too. I didn’t know you lived.”
Pippa remembered her terrible nightmare, the feeling of darkness so heavy it was suffocating. And the kiss—it must have been her mother’s last.
She could see it all now. Euippe ready
to meet her father with an injured winged horse. Her father heading out from the stables into the darkness. When he didn’t come back, her mother must have gone after him. She must have left Pippa by the well, with the protective coin. But the darkness—Nyx’s darkness—had swallowed her mother too.
Pippa couldn’t believe it. She wasn’t ever meant to be a regular girl. She had always been meant to work with winged horses, just like her parents.
All at once, Pippa knew who she was.
She wasn’t a foundling or a racer, or a proper young lady. She was Hippolyta, lover of horses.
She felt strong and certain inside. And angry.
“You killed my parents!” she cried. “You are using the darkness for evil.”
“They deserved their fate,” spat Nyx. Her dark eyes narrowed. “They were meddling. Meddling with the gods’ horses.”
“No!” cried Pippa. “Euippe told me the story. They were caring for the hurt ones. When the horses were better, they sent them back to Mount Olympus. They were helping the horses. And the night was helping them!”
“No,” said Nyx, gripping her whip as if to use it again, but her voice quavered.
Nyx’s uncertainty gave Pippa an idea. The goddess had revealed to Pippa who Pippa truly was, even though it was only by accident. Maybe Pippa could do the same, but on purpose. Maybe she could remind Nyx of what night could be.
“Yes, the night was helping them!” said Pippa. “Night is beautiful. It’s not just for bad deeds or nightmares. It’s for dreams too. Night is for relaxing. For resting. Night is the best part of the day, saved till last. . . .”
Nyx was softening, her grip on the whip loosening.
Pippa kept going.
“Night isn’t a place for bad deeds, unless you make it so. The stars will be a constant reminder of your bad deed. I know you don’t want that. Please, let the winged horses go,” urged Pippa.
For a moment, Pippa thought Nyx might really do it.
“Please,” said Pippa. “You can’t see yourself truly, because you aren’t yourself. You’re too bright. . . .”
“Too bright?!” Nyx’s face twisted up. Pippa had gone too far. “TOO BRIGHT?!” Nyx repeated.
She cast out her whip again, and it was like she didn’t even care where she was hitting.
Pecklion screeched, Tazo reared.
“Stop! Stop!” Pippa cried.
“Stop? I am only doing this pathetic horse a favor! He does not belong here on Olympus, nor does he belong down in the mortal realm. The sky should take him,” roared Nyx.
“He isn’t a pathetic horse!” said Pippa. “He’s the colt of the true winner of the last Winged Horse Race. I bet—I bet . . . I bet he is faster than any of the others!”
Tazo perked his ears and looked at her.
“You bet?” Nyx stilled her whip. Her eyes glinted even brighter.
Pippa’s mind spun furiously. Her first plan hadn’t worked. But Nyx wasn’t just Night, she was also a goddess. And Sophia had said, “No god or goddess can refuse a bet.”
“Yes, I bet! I bet he is the fastest!” Pippa continued bravely.
“Really?! You think this horse is the fastest? Ha! You want the winged horses?”
“Yes!” said Pippa.
Maybe Nyx would bring the horses down to prove her wrong.
But Nyx had another idea.
“Then we shall race.” Nyx tucked her whip into the belt around her peplos. “If you touch the stars first, the horses are yours. If you don’t, your horse and you will become my next constellation.”
Pippa gulped.
Tazo had never flown with her on his back, much less raced. How could they win? Still, she had to have hope.
After all, he was Zeph’s colt. And he was Tazo. A promise.
Twenty-Two
Nyx opened her wings and a burst of wind from them pushed Pippa backward. Pippa couldn’t help staring. They were the most beautiful wings she’d seen, black and silver softly melding into each other, like comet tails streaking through the midnight sky.
Pippa hoisted herself onto Tazo’s back. She took a few deep breaths, trying to stay calm.
Flying in the Winged Horse Race was one thing. If you lost, or even cheated, you returned to the mortal realm, back to your old life, no worse off than when you began. This was different. It was a game to Nyx. She was a goddess. But for Pippa, two lives were at stake: hers and Tazo’s.
“Whatever happens, I love you,” she leaned down and whispered in Tazo’s ear.
“When I crack my whip, that will be the signal for the race to begin,” said the goddess. “Do you think you need a head start?” she cackled.
“No,” said Pippa, more certain than she felt.
“Good,” said Nyx. “Because you are not getting one!”
SNAP!
A blaze of light blinded Pippa, who feared for a moment that Nyx had gone back on her word and transformed Tazo right then and there, or maybe Pecklion.
When the light dimmed, Nyx was revealed, erupting up and out through the open ceiling.
“Fly! Fly, Tazo!” cried Pippa, urging him on with her body.
But Tazo didn’t move. Desperately, she tried to think of a solution. The only time he’d flown was when he’d chased after the escaped nightmare, curious about the shimmering flying object, just like Zeph would have been. But there was nothing to chase now, nothing that didn’t frighten him. Unless . . . her coin! She tossed it up, as high as she could.
The coin glinted.
Whether it was the coin, or her urging, or her knees pressing into his side, Pippa didn’t know. Tazo opened his wings, took a few bounding strides, and WHOOSH! He was off! He soared out of the palace, and into the sky.
As the coin arced in the air, Nyx looked over her shoulder, surprise on her face. “You can fly!”
Indeed, Tazo could!
His wings beat powerfully, his neck straining forward. Although the coin was falling back down to the throne room floor, Tazo didn’t seem to care. He ascended magnificently, as though eager to show himself off, to prove just how strong his wings were, as though he was saying, “I am a winged horse! Yes, I can fly—and look how well!”
Pippa was filled with pride and, at the same time, terror.
Nyx was ahead of them, not as far ahead as she might be, but still ahead.
“Faster,” Pippa urged Tazo.
Nyx’s wings sparkled. As big and strong as they seemed, Nyx wasn’t as fast as Pippa had thought. Perhaps we do have a chance.
She leaned close to Tazo, her cheek pressed against his neck, as they went up, up, up. Already they were far higher than she’d ever flown on Zeph.
The goddess was just a bit in front of them now. Ahead was a wispy ribbon of cloud. As they approached it, they were nose to nose with the beautiful goddess. And then, a nose ahead. They were doing it, really doing it; they were passing Nyx. . . .
But then they flew through the thin clouds, and suddenly, everything was different. It was as if the clouds had been a gate into the sky realm. All at once, the air was thin, and it was hard to breathe. The stars glimmered a hundred times bigger and brighter than before, like lakes of light in a black expanse.
Nyx spun around, flying backward so she could face them, and kicked her feet at them. “You really think you can beat me? Me, goddess of night? Brighter than day?”
She laughed and the laugh seemed to echo off the stars.
“I do admit you have speed. Perhaps below you would have had a chance. Not up here. Not in my world. You were right. That horse is a fine steed. You and he will make a very valuable constellation indeed.” She laughed again, hovering and dancing around Pippa.
Pippa struggled to breathe. Tazo too was struggling, his wingbeats slowing.
The stars looked so big. Yet they were still too far away to touch. She would never be able to reach them. She could see the horses clearly now. The stars of their wings quivered as they pranced back and forth across the darkness. Pippa could make out the larg
e and graceful Ajax, and the golden, radiant Khruse.
“Give up! Admit it, you’ve lost,” crowed Nyx, turning around and continuing toward the constellations.
Fury filled Pippa. This wasn’t a bet. This was a trick! Nyx had known that all along. Pippa felt despair—the same despair she had in the cell. She had let everyone down, especially Tazo. He might not be Zeph, but she loved him with all her heart. She had promised to keep him safe.
Pippa remembered the first time she’d touched his soft nose. How she had to lure him with figs. He had come to her, not only because of the figs, but because he trusted her. She couldn’t have gone to him. That would have only frightened the little colt.
Suddenly, a thought, bright as a star itself, filled her.
She didn’t have to go to the horses. They could come to her!
And she had just the way.
The whistle. Bellerophon’s whistle, that hung around her neck, that had hung there since she’d picked it up in the pool of water a day ago. It might not call Tazo, but it would call the other horses.
She let go of a handful of Tazo’s mane and reached for the whistle. Although she could barely breathe in the thin air, she managed to draw in a wheezing breath and, summoning every bit of strength she could, she pursed her lips and blew.
TWEET!
The high birdlike call filled the air, and for a moment everything seemed to freeze.
The stars shone brighter, brighter, brighter, and began to fall, streaming down toward them. A hundred shooting stars all falling together.
The horses!
Tazo whinnied in fear. Nyx screeched as they streaked past her in a V, avoiding her completely, heading straight for Pippa and Tazo. The goddess was stunned into stillness.
Pippa put out her hand, but closed her eyes, sure she was going to be blinded or killed by the stars, and then . . .
She felt the brush of feathers.
She opened her eyes. Zeus’s majestic steed, Ajax, now a horse, not stars, brushed by her. He whinnied and tossed his head, but he didn’t stop. He raced down, down, his wings beating like music.
The Colt of the Clouds Page 11