“I thought of returning this to you, but—and I can change it back to what it once was if you disagree—I think this is so much better.”
He shook out the cloak like a sheet of linen and, to Pippa’s amazement, as it drifted back down, it transformed. It was no longer a worn-out lion’s skin. It was a beautiful himation, a midnight-black cloak embroidered with tiny pictures—stories and symbols so intriguing Pippa wanted to gaze at each one.
Along the bottom edge there was even a picture of two children, a horse, and a hippalektryon as well as other scenes she recognized—them escaping from Morpheus, and Hero tricking Achlys. There were also some she hadn’t been a part of—like Hero facing the taraxippoi and freeing the gods and goddesses. The embroidery didn’t go all the way around.
The cloak was like the staff of a song-stitcher, a storyteller, with its carvings. Hero reached out a hand and touched it hesitantly. “For me?”
“For you,” said Zeus, draping it around him. It fit perfectly. “You will have your whole life to finish it, if you wish. Now what else can I grant you?”
“My family,” said Hero. “They have never loved me. I don’t want . . . I mean, can I . . .”
“Ah.” Zeus shook his head sadly. “I know what you are going to ask. It’s not possible, I’m afraid. You are part of your family’s very threads. Once a thread is woven, nothing can be done to it, except snipping. I can’t help you with your family.”
Maybe I can, thought Pippa. Could Hero come back with her? She was still becoming part of Bas’s family, and she’d caused a lot of trouble already. Not that Hero would be trouble. . . .
Before she could say anything, the faraway voice spoke again. “Go on, boy! Spit it out!”
“I didn’t finish,” Hero said to Zeus. “The Fates, they want me to stay with them. At least for a bit. And Pecklion too. They want me to tell them stories while they work. Plus there are all these tangled threads they need someone to untangle . . . Or was it threads they need me to tangle?”
“Are you sure you want to stay with the Fates?” asked Zeus, raising an eyebrow. “They don’t do anyone any favors, you know.”
Pippa and Hero exchanged knowing glances. What was the map then? And even the olive soup . . .
Still, Hero said matter-of-factly, “I don’t think this is a favor. They are grumpy. But grumpy isn’t the same as mean. I can handle grumpy.”
“But can you handle olive soup?”
“I’ve always wanted to learn how to cook,” said Hero with a smile.
Pippa smiled too. The Fates were the three most magical grandmothers she could imagine. Hero needed love in his life. She had plenty. Bas’s family did care for her, and of course, there was Tazo. And Zeph! Pippa couldn’t wait to get back to him. Would he be surprised to see his colt flying? But Zeph couldn’t fly with him. . . .
“Good!” said Zeus, clapping his hands. “All is settled then.”
“Actually,” said Pippa, “there is one more thing.”
“Really?” the great god said.
Pippa stood on tiptoe, and Zeus crouched down, as she whispered her last request in his ear.
He chuckled. “Very well, child. Very well.”
Twenty-Five
At the Stables of the Seven Sisters, the horses grazed contentedly in the pasture. Their coats gleamed brighter, their tails swished stronger than before. Some said that now, after the salt storm, the grass grew even greener, especially there.
Maybe that was why the wild horses broke down the walls more often than ever.
Pippa sighed as she hoisted a fallen rock back into place. She wiped her hands on her chiton, the one the Fates had made for her. It seemed much more resilient than the map, and even when she cleaned her dirty hands on it, it stayed clean, which made both Pippa and Helena happy.
Not that Helena complained much these days. She and Nikon were so thankful that Pippa and Tazo had helped save the stables, the land . . . Olympus itself. Sometimes Pippa had to remind them how grateful she was that they had given her a home—and now, more than that.
Even old Leda was repentant, admitting that Tazo was not to blame and apologizing for jumping to conclusions. Though she was still constantly poking her nose in everyone’s business. At that very moment, Pippa could see her hobbling toward the old stables, to watch the day’s activities.
It must almost be time.
Indeed, just then Bas called out, “Lessons, Pippa! Lessons!”
Pippa lifted the last stone into place, wiped her sweaty hands again, and felt a thrill. Lessons. She looked forward to them every day. Of course, these were very different lessons.
She hurried to the old stables.
It had been transformed into a proper barn again, albeit a small one. One day she might need more space, but for now, it worked fine.
In front of the barn door, a handful of young children had gathered—boys and girls. Some were shyly shuffling their sandals. Others were so excited they were bouncing up and down on their toes.
Each week it seemed there were more children. Still, Pippa made sure everyone got a turn, especially the foundlings.
“Can I fly on Tazo this time? Please?” begged a boy, who was missing his front teeth.
“I want to ride too!” declared a girl hopping from foot to foot.
“Hush, hush,” said Pippa with a smile. “You’ll get a chance, but I’m not sure if it will be today. There is much you need to learn first—safety, bridling, the proper commands. Now, are you all here?” She took a quick survey. “Where’s Astrea?”
Astrea, Bas’s youngest sister, never missed the lessons.
The boy with the gap teeth pointed up.
Pippa looked. There, soaring into the air, was little Astrea riding Tazo.
Tazo’s wings sparkled in the sunlight.
“Oh, Astrea!” cried Pippa.
Astrea’s hair whipped out behind her as she and Tazo spun up into a cloud and then down again. She was a natural. And so, for that matter, was Tazo. He had really grown into his wings.
Pippa should have been mad. But the sight of them rising into the sky reminded her of someone else, not too long ago. She smiled.
“Zeph!” She blew on the whistle around her neck, and a moment later her horse arrived, galloping in from the pasture. The children gasped. Some had seen Zephyr before. Others hadn’t. His massive wings fanned out beside him.
Perhaps he hadn’t missed them, but he seemed to enjoy them now that they had returned. Zeus granted her last wish.
Pippa slipped onto his back. She wanted to make sure Astrea was okay. “Fly, Zeph. Petesthe,” she whispered. He responded at once. The wind pressed against her cheeks like a kiss.
In the distance, the clouds were rumbling. The gods were up to something. When were they not?
But Pippa didn’t mind.
Riding, flying, friends. Her own winged horse stables. She had touched the stars, and the stars had become her dreams.
In the stable built into the cliffs of Mount Olympus, a winged goddess pushed her mop. Her feet were wet and cold. But there was no point in complaining. Besides, the god next to her was doing that well enough already.
“Can’t you tie up your cloak? It keeps tripping me!” Poseidon groaned.
“I can’t help my cloak, but you can help your feet,” retorted Nyx. She wanted to remind him that this particular mess was not her doing. She hadn’t filled the winged horse stables with salt water. He had. But again, what was the point? Zeus had commanded that they clean the stables, and so they must.
Both of them were exhausted. Zeus had forbidden the use of magic, which meant all they had were the useless tools of the mortals. Pathetic mops and buckets that made their task never-ending.
Her back hurt; her wings ached. And the stables reeked of rotten fish.
All Nyx longed for was night. Her night.
The girl, the mortal one, had been right after all. Night was wonderful. Finally, at the end of the day, Night meant you could rest your w
eary head and hands.
At last, the call came. It was time.
Nyx cast her cloak proudly out through the archway.
The stars glittered, the moon shone, and everyone—gods and mortals alike—felt darkness settle over them, sweet and calm and good.
About This Guide
The constellations in Ancient Greece were mostly heroes and beasts favored by the gods and goddesses, who received a place in the stars in honor of their deeds. Semidivine spirits, the constellations could stride across the heavens and were part of the divine cloak of Nyx (goddess of night). These below are the brightest of the star horses.
Pegasus
Pegasus was a winged horse born of Poseidon, god of the sea, and Medusa, a winged monster with snake hair. When Pegasus’s hooves hit the earthly ground, they created the Hippocrene well. Pegasus was caught by the hero Bellerophon with the help of Athena, goddess of wisdom. Riding Pegasus, Bellerophon accomplished many great feats, including defeating the terrible monster the Chimera. Later, Bellerophon tried to fly up to Mount Olympus on the back of Pegasus and fell off. Afterward, Pegasus became Zeus’s steed and helped carry the great god’s thunder and lightning bolts. Eventually, Zeus honored Pegasus’s exploits by transforming him into a constellation with the help of Nyx. The Pegasus constellation is one of the largest constellations in the sky and lies in the northern hemisphere.
Diokles
Diokles was Zeus’s steed following Pegasus, and the winner of the very first Winged Horse Race. The rider and trainer of Diokles, Archippos, still trains winged horses on Mount Olympus to this day. Poseidon was the patron god of them both, also being god of horses. It is no wonder his horse won. Now, Diokles holds a treasured place beside Pegasus.
Ismene
Ismene, a winged horse, was one of Zeus’s past steeds. Ridden by Calista, Ismene was raised by the Amazons, the warrior women. Calista was also the first female to win the Winged Horse Race.
Nikomedes
The most recent addition to the night sky, Nikomedes was Zeus’s steed before the last Winged Horse Race. Dion was Nikomedes’s mortal rider, and Apollo was their patron god. Nikomedes, still rather spritely, is often found galloping across the night sky and mistaken for a shooting star.
Kerauno
This monstrous winged horse is not actually a constellation. However, he is worth a mention. He was Bas’s steed in the last Winged Horse Race, and along with Pippa, Zephyr, and Bas, was banished by Zeus to the mortal realm afterward. Unlike the others, he did not obey. Instead, Kerauno took flight, and no one was able to catch him. Now he can sometimes be seen flying high in the heavens—a dark flash like a black comet—as though he wishes he were a constellation.
Hali, Skotos, Khruse
Hali, the ocean-blue horse; Skotos, the black steed; and golden Khruse are three of the hundreds of winged horses temporarily transformed into constellations by Nyx, at the request of Poseidon. Their transformation lasted only moments in the gods’ lives, though the horses themselves forever carry a sheen that they didn’t have before.
Author’s Note
Throughout this book, in most names, “k” is used instead of a “c,” as that is the Greek form of spelling, whereas a “c” would be Roman. However, Hercules we have here spelled with a “c” because it is the most commonly used version of the hero’s name.
Acknowledgments
The creation of a book is a long and wonderful process that involves, for me, many people to whom I’m forever grateful. I wrote this book while I was pregnant with my son and actually finished it the day before he came—a little early—into the world. It’s no wonder we named him after a constellation! So, to my family: my son, husband, and parents. To my writing group, the Inkslingers. To my friend and coteacher, Lee Edward Fodi, and my writing soul mate, Vikki Vansickle. To my fantastic editors, Dave Linker and Lucy Pearse, and the whole teams at their publishing houses. To my amazing agent, Emily van Beek. To the exceptionally talented wordsmith, Tiffany Stone. And to my expert on all things related to ancient Greece, Tom Donaghy. Thank you all, so very much.
About the Author
Photo credit Jamie Kowal
KALLIE GEORGE is an author, editor, and creative writing teacher. She has written numerous books for children, including the chapter book series The Magical Animal Adoption Agency and Heartwood Hotel and the picture books Duck, Duck, Dinosaur and The Lost Gift. On her first vacation with her husband, she hiked Mount Olympus—where she didn’t see any winged horses but was caught in a Zeuslike thunderstorm. Kallie currently lives in Vancouver, BC, with her husband and son.
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Copyright
WINGS OF OLYMPUS: THE COLT OF THE CLOUDS. Text copyright © 2020 by Kallie George. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
www.harpercollinschildrens.com
Cover illustration © 2020 by Fiona Hsieh
Cover design by Joe Merkel
Digital Edition APRIL 2020 ISBN: 978-0-06-274155-4
Print ISBN: 978-0-06-274154-7
2021222324PC/LSCH10987654321
FIRST EDITION
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The Colt of the Clouds Page 13