The Colt of the Clouds

by Kallie George

  And he was just the first.

  All it had taken was one touch. The stars were horses now, a herd of winged horses, flying past her. Khruse, as golden as the sun. Hali, with his mane and tail that shimmered ocean blue. Skotos, so slim and black he could be mistaken for a shadow. The fire steeds of Helios, with their flame-feathered wings. And the saffron-rose horses of Eos, goddess of dawn. Even Aurae, whom as a foal, Pippa had seen take her first flight, now bigger than Tazo himself.

  The winged horses were back.

  A hundred beautiful horses, swooping down like a rainbow toward Mount Olympus.

  Twenty-Three

  As the last of the horses passed by Pippa and Tazo, something more sinister came streaking from above. Even without the added starlight, Pippa could see Nyx, plunging through the air toward them.

  Pippa turned Tazo, and they began to soar down, but the goddess was quicker. She pulled out of her dive and stopped in front of Pippa and Tazo, blocking their way.

  “How dare you!” she cried. “You tricked me!”

  “That wasn’t a trick!” Pippa replied. “You said whoever touches them first. Not who reaches them.”

  “Words, words, words!” Nyx drew out her whip. “At least I will have one new constellation to decorate my sky.”

  “That isn’t fair! I touched the stars first! That was our bet!” retorted Pippa, as Tazo struggled to beat against the force of Nyx’s wings.

  “What of life is fair?” spat Nyx.

  “Some things!” said Pippa.

  “Nothing!” cried Nyx. “It would be fair if my sky were as bright as my daughter’s. If Poseidon ruled with his brother.”

  “Some things can’t be,” continued Pippa. “If everything was fair, then everything would be the same. And who would decide what was fair, anyway?”

  “Me!” raged Nyx. She raised her whip high.

  CRACK!

  A blinding flash split the darkness.

  “No!” Nyx screeched, as a lightning bolt blazed across the sky.

  Tazo startled, and Pippa gripped at his mane as he struggled to regain his balance. When at last he had, she looked down and saw in the distance—just a speck at first but growing bigger with every passing moment—Zeus!

  Zeus on the back of Ajax. Joy surged through Pippa.

  In one hand the god of the mountain held another lightning bolt, ready to throw. His great beard crackled with sparks.

  “HUZZAH!” he cried.

  Nyx cast her whip.

  SNAP! CRACK!

  The air shuddered, and Pippa was blinded by a white light. Tazo tried to rear, but with nothing under his hooves, he looped completely upside down. Pippa’s stomach looped too, as she frantically clung to his mane. In a heartbeat, he was right-side up again, but her joy had fled with the realization that she was caught in the middle of a battle!

  Zeus wasn’t alone.

  Poseidon was galloping upward toward his brother on sea-blue Hali, wielding his trident. Close behind followed Athena, a sword in each hand. She was riding a mare that looked more owl than horse, with a beak for a muzzle and wings of gray. Ares sat on a steed that looked like fearsome Kerauno’s colt, for it had bloodred eyes and pointed teeth. The war god’s silver helmet was back on his head, and his spear in hand. Even Aphrodite flew with them, astride a steed the color of sunbeams.

  “Hooray for Hero!” Poseidon cried. “Achlys didn’t stand a chance.”

  So Hero had found a way to free them too!

  This was no time to ask how, or if Hero was okay. Not that they would hear her. The gods and goddesses didn’t seem to notice her at all—especially as Nyx’s children joined the battle. First came Morpheus, who was flying by the strength of his wings, much as it might tire him. Pippa didn’t recognize all the others, but they were surely the sons and daughters of the goddess of night, for they flocked around her.

  A tiny shriveled god, who clung to an equally shriveled winged horse. A goddess with a crooked smile, who was invisible one moment and visible the next. Another goddess who wielded a whip like her mother’s in one hand and an apple branch in the other, and whose face was half green. Last of all, a god with wings like Nyx’s yet completely black swooped past her. He carried a torch, but the torch was upside down and extinguished. Pippa shuddered. She knew the symbol of Thanatos, god of death.

  She tried to turn Tazo away from the terrible Thanatos, but Demeter, goddess of the harvest, cut them off. She threw a stalk of wheat that burst open upon the god, covering him with tiny growing shoots. He cried out, knocking them away as best he could with his torch.

  When Pippa turned Tazo the other way, she was blocked by another battling pair: a fanged and taloned goddess, whose face was ravaged by disease, and Aphrodite, on the back of the sunbeam horse. Pippa didn’t know what the goddess of love would fight with. To her surprise, Aphrodite pulled out a bow and arrow, the same sort Pippa imagined her son Cupid used, and shot at the fanged goddess, who flew away screeching.

  No matter which way Tazo went, there was no clear path of escape. Pippa tried to stay on as the colt looped and rolled and struggled to dodge the spells and weapons that flew back and forth.

  “Pippa!” cried a familiar voice.

  Pippa turned to see Sophia swooping beside her, on the back of what had to be one of Helios’s winged steeds. Eurippe was on her other side, riding a fire horse as well. The two steeds had wings that flickered and spit like fires, with white-gold feathers. Sophia and Eurippe didn’t seem to notice the heat shimmering from their horses, though even Pippa could feel it.

  “The steeds came to us!” cried Sophia, grinning. “You’re a marvel!”

  “Oh, Sophia!” Pippa exclaimed.

  But her friend and Eurippe were off, two blazing fires fighting in the darkness, and Pippa, distracted by their leaving, didn’t see Morpheus upon her until it was too late.

  Then there was another bright blaze, this one cold and white, and a CRACK—the third one directed at her—followed by a flash. And this time she could not avoid them. There was no white light, no nightmare either, just darkness. Total darkness . . .

  Twenty-Four

  Pippa was woken by sunbeams streaming through a window in front of her. The sun! The sun was back, not shining dimly at the edge of the horizon but high in the sky where it belonged.

  Slowly, she sat up. She was in a bed of hay. Her dirty dress was gone, and instead she wore a chiton made of the lightest, finest threads she could imagine. It was delicately embroidered with a pattern of tiny silver wings. Pippa touched it in wonder.

  Where was she? The last thing she remembered was being trapped between opposing sides in the battle.

  Cautiously, she looked around. The room was small, unadorned except for a single weaving—a very strange one—hanging on the wall. It looked more like a mess of knots than anything else. If she squinted though, she could see it was some sort of rose. Or maybe a shell. Or the sun? Every time it seemed to change.

  Through the open doorway came low voices and the smell of food. She got up, carefully, and made her way toward them. Her head felt fuzzy and she had to hold on to the side of the doorway to steady herself.

  The room, like several others, opened up into a little courtyard, built in the shape of a horseshoe, with a cistern in the center. Grapevines grew on a trellis overhead, providing shade. Except in one corner, where a fire crackled. An old woman was hunched over the fire, poking the contents of a pot with a spoon.

  In another corner was a table surrounded by stools and a spindle. A second old woman sat at the spindle, and a third at the table, along with a boy, who was eating soup.

  Hero and the Fates!

  “Oh, dearie, you’re up!” said Clotho, not looking up from the spindle yet somehow knowing Pippa was there.

  “Pippa!” exclaimed Hero.

  Pippa smiled and made her way to them, unsteadily.

  “Sit, sit,” said Clotho. “Before you fall over.”

  “Humph. She’s lucky she can stand at
all. No thanks to the gods.” Atropos waved her hands wildly, and Hero ducked just in time, narrowly avoiding being stabbed with her shears. “No one ever thinks practically. No one ever thinks of the mortals!”

  “What happened?” asked Pippa, sitting down.

  “You were hit by dream dust. You’re lucky Hero caught you,” said Clotho.

  “He did?” Pippa gazed, surprised, at Hero.

  “It—it was Pecklion, actually,” he stammered.

  “But how did you get out of the prison?” asked Pippa. “How did all the gods and goddesses get out?”

  “Hero again,” smiled Clotho.

  Hero’s blush deepened. “It really wasn’t me.” He turned to Pippa. “Misery was so happy to have company at last and felt so sorry for me, she decided to let me go, to let us all go. She didn’t want to work for her mother anymore. Then, well, the gods and goddesses burst out and found their relics. Just as they were wondering what to do with them, the horses came. That was your doing. You rescued the horses.

  “Sophia wants to write up both of us in her scroll,” Hero went on. “She says there’s a new section, the horse rescuers. She wanted to tell you that. I told her it should just be about you. I mean, I’ve always admired you . . . I was even jealous of you a little. . . .”

  Pippa wasn’t sure what surprised her more. That Hero was jealous of her or that she’d be in Sophia’s scroll.

  “You saved everyone,” finished Hero.

  “We both did, Hero,” said Pippa firmly.

  Hero smiled slowly.

  “And Tazo’s okay?” Pippa asked.

  “He’s in the garden,” said Clotho, “with the hippalektryon. They have been eating since they got here. It’s so nice to have our garden back. As soon as we could, we moved houses. I must say that stone house does chill the fingers. It isn’t easy to spin with cold fingers, you know.”

  Pippa was about to ask how long she’d been there, when, from her place at the pot, Lachesis waved her wooden spoon. “Do you think the soup needs more olives?”

  “More olives? Oh, goodness me, no,” replied Clotho. “Maybe more grapes. What do you think, Hero?”

  Hero looked up from his bowl, and Pippa could tell he was trying desperately not to grimace. “I suppose.”

  “And, when you’re done, serve Pippa a bowl too, sister,” said Clotho.

  “I’m actually not hungry,” blurted Pippa.

  “Tut, tut,” said Clotho. “I can hear your stomach growling from here. The soup will do you good.”

  “Soup?” a loud voice bellowed from outside.

  “Oh dear, it’s—” started Clotho.

  “You-know-who,” finished Lachesis.

  “Really, if all these gods and goddesses keep visiting, we will need a bigger house,” huffed Atropos, just as Zeus ducked through the entryway.

  He strode into the courtyard. Although there were no lightning bolts in his hands, he still crackled with energy. His frizzy beard spread out around him like a cloud. Gone were his crutch and bandage. His robes were no longer creased but flowed around him as though blown by a wind that only he could feel. The god of the sky, king of the gods was back, and Pippa couldn’t help feeling in awe of his majestic presence.

  When she saw his eyes twinkle, she relaxed.

  “Soup! I’d love a bowl!” He took the one Lachesis had just ladled out, much to Pippa’s relief, and gulped the soup down in one swallow. He coughed, and his beard seemed to deflate slightly.

  “Good?” questioned Lachesis.

  “Well . . . ,” said Zeus.

  “Here, have some more.” The Fate reached for his empty bowl.

  “Ah,” he faltered, “as much as I’d like to, I’m here for Hippolyta and Hero.” He glanced at them. “Join me for a walk?”

  Pippa and Hero nodded quickly.

  “Good,” crackled Atropos. “It’s too cramped in here. And enough with the soup, Lachesis. You’re falling behind!” She pointed to a jumble of thread waiting to be measured.

  While Lachesis reluctantly set down her soup and picked up her measuring stick, Zeus, Pippa, and Hero headed outside.

  Outside, the sun felt warm and wonderful on Pippa’s cheeks.

  Ajax was grazing with Tazo and Pecklion in the garden. When Pippa passed, Tazo raised his head and wings, as though remembering their flight. Pippa waved at him, then hurried to catch up with Hero and Zeus, who were striding down the path into the rolling meadows.

  The grass was lush and green, and dotted with wildflowers. It’s like the salt storm never happened, thought Pippa. Is this Zeus’s doing? Or did all the gods and goddesses work together?

  Pippa closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She hadn’t realized just how much she’d missed the sun.

  Zeus coughed again. “Those Fates mean well, but . . .” He took a deep breath too. “Ah! Olympus. My Olympus!”

  He paused, then corrected himself, “Our Olympus. I shall be including my brother Poseidon in more of my decision-making.”

  “Poseidon isn’t going to be punished?” asked Hero, looking surprised.

  “Ha!” burst Zeus. “Of course he is. Bellerophon has devised a most appropriate task for him and Nyx.”

  “Bellerophon’s back?” burst Pippa.

  “Never left,” said Zeus. “He was always in the winged horse stables. The water monsters had him imprisoned there.”

  “And the stables?”

  Zeus smiled. “They shall be gleaming in time. Until then, the horses have been moved elsewhere.”

  Pippa knew there were other stables dotted across the vast mountain and wondered if Zeus meant the foals’ stables, where she’d seen Aurae take her first flight. If the winged horse steeds were housed there, maybe the foals and colts would be gentled, as Euippe had taught her it was important to do.

  Euippe. Sophia. Pippa was about to ask about them, when Zeus stopped under a beautiful olive tree—a rarity on the mountain—and said, “Enough of punishments. That isn’t why I am here. I am here to . . . to . . .”

  He struggled to find the words. “You know what I am trying to say.”

  Pippa didn’t. She looked at Hero. He looked confused too.

  “Just say it!” came a faraway voice, back from the Fates’ house.

  Zeus cleared his throat and gazed deep into Pippa’s and Hero’s eyes. “Thank you. Thank you both.”

  Pippa felt a tingle rush through her body. She couldn’t believe it. The king of the gods, thanking them?

  Then Zeus pulled something from his robes, two glass bottles that shimmered with all the colors of the rainbow. “This is a gift, so you can become a demigod and-goddess,” started Zeus.

  Zeus didn’t have to finish for Pippa to guess. . . .

  “Ambrosia?” breathed Pippa.

  But she shook her head. Hero did too.

  Zeus’s bushy eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “Surely you jest? What better reward than becoming a demigod and demigoddess?”

  “Hercules was a demigod,” said Hero quietly. “But I don’t want to be like Hercules anymore.”

  “You won’t be Hercules. You will be Hero, the great . . . hero,” said Zeus.

  Pippa had to stifle a laugh.

  “Exactly,” said Hero. “It doesn’t sound right, does it?”

  Zeus turned to Pippa. “You, Hippolyta, surely you want to stay here, with us?”

  “I thought that was what I wanted once. But now I have Zeph and I am part of Bas’s family. And, there’s something else.”

  “Ah, there is something you desire. Tell me. I will make it so.”

  Pippa gulped. You didn’t ask for a gift from the gods. You gave them presents, yes. But ask for one? Still, why not. She had rescued the horses, after all. She was Hippolyta, lover of horses. She stood up a little straighter.

  Pippa pointed back in the direction of the Fates’ house. “I would like Tazo to return with me.”

  Zeus nodded.

  “And I want him to keep his wings.”

  “Wings in
the mortal realm?” said Zeus. He clucked his tongue, thinking. “Can you manage?”

  “My parents could, and so can I, if I’m given the choice.”

  “Your parents. Of course . . . That reminds me.” He reached into his robes again. This time he produced a coin. Her winged horse coin. It looked brighter than ever, as if some of the falling stars had covered it with stardust.

  “I found this in my throne room, and I knew it must belong to you. Your parents were the mortals who tended my winged horses? Your parents . . . I never met them. I didn’t know they had a child . . . Yes, you will care for Tazo well. I can see that.”

  That reminded Pippa of something else she wanted.

  As she took the coin from him, she said, “I want you to promise me, no more senseless killing of winged horses.”

  Zeus nodded again.

  “And let Euippe return to the surface to be a groom with Bellerophon again.”

  “That has already been done, but . . .”

  “And I want you to apologize to her for what you did.” She was on a roll now.

  “Apologize?”

  “Yes,” said Pippa. “And . . .”

  “More?”

  Yes. The reason she had come to the mountain in the first place: Bas’s farm and all the farms around it. “And make sure all the crops are growing well, and no one is suffering. . . .”

  “Child, child,” said Zeus, putting a hand up to stop her. “Suffering is part of mortal life. Even the gods’ lives. But yes, already Demeter is working on the crops and harvests. And as for choice, you will forge your own path, that I can see. That is all I can see. We do try to leave mortals to their own devices, you know.”

  Pippa nodded firmly. She was finished.

  Zeus laughed. “And I thought you might not have any wants.” He turned to Hero. “And for you, boy?”

  Hero hesitated. “There was my father’s cloak. . . .”

  “This?” said Zeus, pulling it from his robes. His robes seemed to hide everything!

  Unlike Pippa’s coin, which had grown more beautiful from their adventure, the lion cloak looked worse for wear. It was faded and tattered, and the lion head looked like it was about to fall off.