At least she could ask Timon about his coin. But to her surprise, Pippa watched him fly past the last flagpole – not around it – towards the setting sun.
Where was he headed?
Pippa didn’t ponder for long. Instead, she ran to the stables and swung up on to Zeph’s back.
With a squeeze of her knees, they took off after him.
Already Timon was only a speck in the sky. Pippa urged Zeph on and he seemed to understand the urgency, for he flew even faster.
Should she really be following Timon like this? I’ll find out where he’s going, that’s all, thought Pippa.
Although the light was fading, Pippa was careful to keep her distance. Timon was flying neither up nor down but, it seemed, around the mountain. Would they end up back at the stables?
Before long they came to a meadow lit by the moon. Skotos swooped down and landed, and Pippa landed Zeph too, behind a row of boulders. She slipped off his back and peeked around the rocks.
The meadow was strangely barren except for a scattering of stones and a patch of golden narcissus. From the middle of these flowers grew an enormous tree, crooked and covered in red fruit. A pomegranate tree.
He did do it, thought Pippa. Timon hurt Kerauno!
This was surely enough proof. She should leave and return to the stables.
But she wanted to know more. Why did he have an obolos? And where was he going? For he was still going, leading his steed past the tree and disappearing behind two large rocks on the other side of the field.
Pippa waited a few moments, then gestured to Zeph. ‘Come on. Let’s follow.’ Zeph whinnied and stepped back.
‘It’s OK,’ said Pippa. ‘Come.’
But Zeph whinnied again and refused. For a horse that loved new adventures, it was strange, but Pippa didn’t want to force him. She remembered the taraxippoi and couldn’t blame Zeph for being afraid.
‘Wait here, Zeph. I’ll be back soon,’ she promised, and then headed across the meadow.
When she passed between the two boulders, she knew why Zeph wouldn’t come.
There, like a gaping mouth, lay a hole in the earth, ringed with narcissus flowers, white as the moon. Obsidian stairs glimmered in the darkness, leading down, down, down. It was, without a doubt, the entrance to the Underworld.
And beside it was Timon, his horse waiting nearby.
The boy sat straight and still.
Pippa walked over and sat down beside him. ‘Timon?’
He blinked, surprised, as if not recognizing her for a moment.
‘Timon?’ she said again.
‘Timotheos,’ he replied at last. ‘That is my true name, if you must know. Hades changed my name when he brought me up here.’
‘Up here?’ Pippa stammered, her heart beating fast. Suddenly everything made sense, why Timon never ate or slept. Why he could race for hours without rest. He wasn’t just sick …
‘We were looking for you,’ she said, ‘Bas, Sophia and me. I saw the coin under your bed.’
‘The coin,’ said Timon. ‘I must have dropped it.’
‘It’s an obolos. Does that mean you’re …’
‘Yes. I am dead. I have been brought up from the Underworld to race.’
Pippa gasped. ‘Surely Hades can’t do that! Why would he? I don’t understand.’
The boy’s dark eyes shimmered.
‘Hades can do what he wishes. Besides, it’s not his fault. I begged him to pick me. I always wanted to race but I died before I was chosen.’
How? Pippa wondered, but did not ask. He was so young.
‘I thought this could be my chance to change my fate.’ He smiled sadly. ‘But some fates you can’t change.’
A fire sparked inside Pippa.
‘Are you sure, Timon?’ she asked, thinking of her coin and what she had discovered about it. ‘Maybe some things can change. Maybe this is your chance.’
He shook his head. ‘I don’t belong here. I knew it the moment we woke up in the courtyard.’
‘I felt that way too at first,’ said Pippa. ‘But Bellerophon was right, we’re all riders here.’
Timon shook his head again. ‘I just want to go home, to the Underworld.’
‘Then why don’t you?’ Pippa pointed to the entrance. ‘It’s right there.’
‘I can’t,’ said Timon. ‘I can only return if I train as hard as I am able and then race. It was part of my arrangement with Hades. So for now, I wait. Why were you looking for me?’
‘I …’ began Pippa, but then, between the boulders, she saw something move in the field.
Another boy, with another horse, lurking under the pomegranate tree.
SEVENTEEN
It was difficult for Pippa to make out who it was.
She jumped up, expecting Timon to do the same, but he remained seated, lost in thought, staring down at the entrance he couldn’t go through.
As much as Pippa wanted to ask him more about his coin and the Underworld, and possibly even her parents, she left Timon and made her way through the boulders, into the meadow.
As she neared the boy by the tree, she could finally see who it was. His sharp chin was unmistakable. Khrys! His horse, Khruse, stood nearby.
Khrys was holding a small woollen bag, into which he was stuffing a twig from the tree. It protruded from the bag, gnarled and thorny.
‘Stop!’ Pippa cried.
Khrys looked up. His eyes narrowed.
‘You!’ he spat. ‘What are you doing here?’ He shook the bag at her, and the twig shook too, like an accusatory finger.
‘I could ask you the same,’ replied Pippa. ‘But I already know. You’ve been picking thorns and using them to hurt the horses.’
‘Horses?’ Khrys shook his head. ‘Only one horse – so far. And you should be grateful.’
‘It’s wrong to hurt a horse – any horse,’ cried Pippa. ‘You’re cheating! Just wait until I tell Bellerophon.’
Pippa expected Khrys to drop the bag and beg her to reconsider, but instead, he laughed. ‘Ha! Go ahead. I’m not the only one. Haven’t you realized that by now?’
Pippa didn’t want to believe it, but perhaps he was right. Timon, being from the Underworld, was impossibly light. Skotos wouldn’t even feel him on his back. Ares wanted Bas to do whatever it took to win and had even given him a spear, though she knew Bas would never use it. ‘Even Theodoros, with the food …’ Pippa murmured aloud, remembering how she’d seen the nymphs feeding his horse special seagrass. Sophia still seemed determined to win by skill alone. And so was Pippa, of course.
‘Good for Theodoros!’ Khrys’ eyes glittered as he interrupted Pippa's thoughts.
‘But you can’t hurt a horse, it’s cruel. Bellerophon won’t like it!’
‘Tell him then. What’s he going to do? He’s not a god or goddess. Maybe if you told Aphrodite. But from what I hear, she never visits you. She didn’t even pick you. You were that pathetic horse’s choice.’
An image flashed into Pippa’s mind. A horse leaning over her and a goddess saying to him, ‘If you wish, little one.’ Maybe her dream had been real.
Khrys sneered. ‘Why don’t you just go home? Oh, right – you can’t. You don’t have a home to go to, foundling.’ His words seared like the sun’s rays. ‘I grew up with chariot winners; I know what it takes to win, but you don’t. And when you’re gone, your horse will be nothing but horse meat.’
‘No!’ said Pippa. ‘I have to win!’
Khrys threw down the bag. ‘You’ll be needing this then.’
And with that, Apollo’s child leaped on to his horse and took off into the night.
The bag lay at Pippa’s feet.
A white muzzle poked around from behind her and sniffed the bag. Zeph. When had he joined her? She turned into him, burrowing into the crook of his neck, taking deep breaths of his earthy, sweet-hay smell. But it didn’t calm her as it usually did.
Zeph nudged her with his nose, and she looked up at him, blinking back tears. She had to
save Zeph – if she didn’t do something, he would be … Khrys was right. But …
‘I can’t hurt a horse,’ she sobbed. ‘I’m not like Khrys.’ But who was she like then? Timon? No, she’d been training. She would not give in to her fate.
Still, she did not reach for the bag of thorns. She left it there in the field and slipped on to Zeph’s back.
The map led her back to the stables. All the way, Pippa’s heart hammered with hurt and anger, and she was so lost in her feelings that she didn’t see the hunched figure in Zeph’s stall until she almost collided with it.
‘Watch it!’ came a crackly voice.
Zeph landed, and Pippa practically fell off him at the sight of the woman, so gnarled she looked like the root of a tree. It was the Fate, Atropos.
Her shears were stuck in a loop of her linen belt, and she was wearing a cloak that covered her grizzled hair. Pippa had only seen her sitting down before. Standing up, she was not much taller.
‘Don’t you know how to land that creature by now?’ snapped Atropos.
‘What are you doing here?’ asked Pippa, climbing down from Zeph’s back.
‘What am I doing here?’ grouched the Fate, rolling her eyes.
‘I thought you didn’t want anything to do with the races?’
‘I don’t! We shouldn’t be part of this foolery if you ask me. This is Aphrodite’s job, and if she doesn’t care whether you have a costume, well, so be it!’ She waved her crooked hand in the air. ‘But my sisters insisted you must race. Love must have its chance. And, of course, I drew the shortest thread. Just my luck!’
‘You brought my costume?’ Pippa’s eyes caught sight of it, folded in the hay just behind the old woman. ‘So … I’ll win after all? My training has changed things?’
But the Fate’s answer came quickly, like a dreadful snip. ‘Of course not,’ She said and stepped out into the hallway. Then, like a crease smoothed away into nothingness, she was gone.
‘Wait!’ Pippa rushed out of the stall. Only darkness spread out as far as she could see.
Pippa’s hand trembled as she closed the gate, returning to Zeph … and her costume.
In the hay by the manger lay her outfit for the race. A new chiton, folded neatly, glimmering with golden roses. But it was the helmet that angered her.
It was a full face mask that disguised the wearer’s identity. The type of fancy helmet men wore in elite displays of military horsemanship, made of bronze with a thin leather strap that fastened behind the head. A winged-horse feather, clearly one of Zeph’s, rose from the top with a flourish. But the face on the helmet wasn’t a horse’s – or even a human’s. Although Pippa had not yet seen her, no other face could be as beautiful as this. It was Aphrodite’s, and it was smiling up at her.
Pippa glared back.
Once again, the goddess had avoided her. The other gods and goddesses had given costumes to their riders in person. But not Aphrodite. She too had given up on Pippa. She hadn’t even sent one of her Graces!
Maybe if she had helped me, I would have a chance. Only the Fates care if I race – to make sure their prediction comes true.
Pippa had done everything she could. If they weren’t going to win, it was because no one believed in her. Except – she believed! And Zeph did too. He’d chosen her.
Pippa didn’t want to wear Aphrodite’s face during the race. She’d rather wear Ares’. At least then she’d be wearing the face of a winner.
Suddenly, she had an idea. That’s it!
Pippa hugged Zeph hard.
Maybe she didn’t have to wear the helmet. Maybe she could wear something else – be someone else.
Maybe she could change her fate, after all.
EIGHTEEN
The next day, the day before the race, the riders woke to find brightly coloured clouds circling the top of Mount Olympus like crowns. ‘Zeus has put them there,’ announced Bellerophon at breakfast. ‘They mark tomorrow’s course.’
His announcement was followed, much to his annoyance, by a flurry of gods and goddesses coming and going with pearls that needed to be braided into manes, last-minute advice for the race, and a hundred other things besides. There was not a moment for Pippa to tell Sophia and Bas anything about the night before.
Dionysus appeared at lunch, drinking cup after cup of wine; Hephaestus was caught trying to inscribe his name on the lightning bolt statue; and Artemis led a hunt through the training course, which sent Bellerophon into a rage. He banned all gods and goddesses from making further appearances until the next morning, at the start of the race.
But as Pippa and the rest of the riders were leading their horses past the stables to the grazing fields, they saw a terrible sight. Water was streaming from the stalls and down the side of the mountain, carrying hay and buckets and even reins and saddlecloths along with it. The air smelled salty, like the sea.
From one of the stalls, on a wave of water, burst Poseidon. His hair and beard whipped in whirlpools and his eyes stormed. He landed in front of the stables in a frothing pool.
‘Poseidon! How dare you?’ raged Bellerophon, splashing up to him.
‘How dare I? How dare you!’
‘It wasn’t me. It was your brother!’ said Bellerophon.
‘So Zeus sent home my rider? He disqualified my horse from the race? Me, god of the sea, patron of horses! This would never have happened if I was allowed to race my hippocampi!’
Now that Pippa thought about it, Theodoros had been absent since lunch. And his horse, the stallion with the sky-blue wings, was gone too. So he had been disqualified. Zeus must have found out about the seaweed.
‘I warned you!’ Bellerophon shouted back, pounding his cane on the ground. He turned to the riders.
‘Take your horses to graze,’ he yelled. ‘Leave this mess to me.’
‘But Theodoros … ?’ stammered Pippa.
‘He will not be coming back.’
The grass in the pasture looked indigo in the twilight. Even the sun seemed to have been drenched in Poseidon’s rage. All the riders stood quietly, watching their horses graze. Some children whispered that Theodoros hadn’t only been sent home, he had been sent home as a fish. But Bellerophon hadn’t mentioned that, so no one was sure.
‘Imagine, after all that – not racing,’ Sophia said to Bas and Pippa. ‘How ashamed Theodoros’s family will be.’ She shook her head. ‘As much as we have our differences, I would still like to make my father proud. I wish he could see me tomorrow.’
‘And see you lose?’ Khrys taunted, striding over, followed closely by Perikles. ‘No mortals get to watch the races. But the Oracle will learn the results from the gods, and my father will be with her when she does. He’s having a private audience with her all day.’
Sophia rolled her eyes.
‘I thought you said the only reason he’s doing that is so that he’s the first one to know if you embarrassed him,’ said Perikles. ‘Like that time—’
‘Hush!’ said Khrys, his face turning red. ‘I said no such thing. Come on. It’s nearly time for supper.’ He stormed off, with Perikles trailing behind, looking confused.
‘Good riddance,’ muttered Sophia. ‘Even Khrys’s own family doesn’t like him. I’m not surprised.’
Bas remained silent.
Pippa fingered her coin. If her parents could see her now, would they be proud?
It didn’t matter – what mattered was her plan.
Now, with all the gods and goddesses gone, and Khrys too, she could tell it at last to her friends. She gathered them in a quiet spot of the pasture and started with all that had happened the night before.
‘Timon is from the Underworld?!’ Bas’s eyes went wide, and he flicked his gaze to the slight boy, who was standing away from the others, watching Skotos eat.
‘Not so surprising perhaps,’ said Sophia. ‘Neither is the news about Khrys’s cheating. I should have guessed it. I wish I had been there to give him a piece of my mind.’
But both Sophia
and Bas were surprised when, in a whisper, Pippa told them her plan. ‘It was the riding outfits that gave me the idea. The masks will hide our faces. Kerauno’s been the sure winner from the start, as long as his rider doesn’t fall off. Don’t you see?’
Bas and Sophia shook their heads.
‘Bas and I can switch horses!’
‘Oh!’ breathed Bas. ‘If I ride Zeph, I’ll lose and get to go home. If you ride Kerauno you’ll win, and then you’ll get to be …’
‘… with Zeph forever,’ said Pippa. ‘Exactly.’ Exactly right and exactly wrong at the same time.
Pippa pushed the feeling aside. If she wanted to stay with Zeph, if she wanted to keep him safe, it was the only way.
Bas’s eyes were bright with hope. ‘It’s perfect! Perfect, Pippa. Ares doesn’t care who’s riding. As long as his horse wins, he’ll be happy. And Aphrodite? She hasn’t even bothered to meet Pippa, so I can’t see her minding either.’
‘Didn’t you hear what happened to Theodoros?’ Sophia cried, a little too loudly.
‘But this is different,’ said Pippa in a rush, wishing for a moment she had only told Bas. ‘We aren’t really cheating. We’re just … switching.’
Sophia shook her head, but said, ‘I suppose. Though I have never heard of such a thing happening in a race.’
‘But that doesn’t mean we can’t,’ said Pippa forcefully. ‘Please, I have to do something.’
Sophia frowned. ‘Riding your best is doing something.’
‘Riding my best won’t help me win,’ said Pippa. ‘The Fates told me so.’
‘You met the Fates?’ Sophia’s eyes widened.
‘By accident,’ said Pippa, and explained her visit, and Atropos’s second appearance. She ended by showing Sophia and Bas the map.
‘No wonder you can fly around the mountain without getting lost,’ said Bas. Then added, ‘I don’t understand it. Why would it be fated that you must lose?’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ said Pippa. ‘We are going to change it.’
After a long pause, Sophia said, ‘While I don’t think you should try to trick the gods and goddesses, you and Bas should do what you must. I am still going to ride my hardest.’
The Winged Horse Race Page 9