The rest of the day passed quickly in a whirlwind of wings and rules. At the end of the lessons, Pippa’s stomach was growling like the lion-headed chimera. She couldn’t wait for the feast to begin.
First, of course, they had to get suitably dressed. Back at the sleeping quarters, Bellerophon directed them upstairs to their rooms. When Pippa reached hers, with a rose carved over the entrance, she gasped. Surely this whole chamber wasn’t just for her?
A gilt mirror hung from one wall, and against another was a wooden bed with feet carved in the shape of swans. Pillows, embroidered with doves, were piled high at its head, and laid out across the end were a chiton made of light linen with golden roses woven across it and a pair of golden sandals with wings on their heels. There were himations too – heavier woollen cloaks – hanging up on hooks on the wall. Beside the bed was a table with an oil lamp, a brush and gold and ivory hairpins. In another corner there was a bathtub shaped like a scallop shell. Someone had already filled it with steaming water.
Of all the finery, one thing in particular drew Pippa’s gaze: a magnificent mosaic made from small flat stones covering the wall across from the bed. It depicted two winged horses, a dam and her foal, their noses touching in a kiss. Even though it was just an image, Pippa could feel the love between the two. A lump rose in her throat. She had never known that kind of love.
She reached between the folds of her racing chiton for the coin hidden in her tunic and was relieved to feel it was still there.
Pippa did not know her family’s name or anything about them, but for the first time she was close to some answers. She could ask Aphrodite. Since the goddess had chosen her, she must know about Pippa’s past. Maybe her parents had owned horses. Maybe her father had taken part in the chariot races. Maybe there was a good reason why they had abandoned her …
But maybe there wasn’t.
Did she really want to know? She traced the wings on the coin and gazed back at the mosaic. The foal’s wings were folded up on its back, but its dam’s were spread wide, the wingtips kissing the ceiling. Tall as Zeph’s.
‘Lovely, isn’t it?’
Pippa turned to face a woman almost too beautiful to be real, who appeared like magic from the mist of the bath. Her hair was crowned with myrtle, and she wore a chiton dyed in lively patterns that seemed to dance around her.
‘Aphrodite!’ gasped Pippa.
They weren’t supposed to meet the goddesses and gods until the feast. But Ares had surprised them in the stables, after all, so who was to say Aphrodite might not put in an appearance too?
The woman turned to face Pippa and laughed, her voice like a chime. Black kohl lined her eyes and eyebrows, and her cheeks and lips were flushed. Gold hoops and mulberry clusters dangled from her earlobes. Around her waist was a tasselled belt that shimmered when she moved.
‘Oh no. I am not Aphrodite,’ she said. ‘I am one of her attendants – Pandaisia, Grace of Banquets. Which is why I am here – to get you ready for tonight’s festivities.’
One of the Graces? If this was how the Graces looked, Pippa couldn’t imagine Aphrodite’s beauty.
‘Come, into the bath,’ said Pandaisia, gently ushering her towards it.
Pippa had never been to the public baths, large pools where citizens washed and steamed – and even perfumed – themselves. She had only ever washed from a bucket of cold water. Now she understood why so many loved to go. As she stepped in, the basin’s hot water felt wonderful – and made her forget her hunger.
Pandaisia gently scraped the grime from her back with a strigil, a curved piece of wood, which felt surprisingly nice. Pippa swirled the water with her fingers. It whirled in shapes of wings and manes.
All too soon, Pandaisia helped her out and into the fancy chiton. This time Pippa did not wear her tunic underneath. The cloth of the chiton was much softer than the rough wool she was used to. The Grace fastened the three-feathered brooch at Pippa’s right shoulder to keep the cloth in place, and tied the linen belt around her waist. Then she began to arrange Pippa’s hair.
‘What’s Aphrodite like?’ asked Pippa, at last finding the courage for questions.
Pandaisia laughed, this time a sound like a lyre being plucked. ‘Like is not love, but sometimes it is stronger. You must first like and then love.’
‘I’m asking about Aphrodite,’ said Pippa again. ‘I’m going to see her tonight.’
‘Tonight will come, but now is upon us. Here, the sandals.’ Pippa had never worn sandals, always going barefoot. They felt strange and stiff and pinched her feet as the Grace laced them up. ‘Now see yourself, child, and how beautiful you look.’
Pandaisia gently spun Pippa to the mirror.
Pippa started. She hardly recognized herself, other than her face, burned from years of working outside. Her hair, sun-tinged red, was piled on her head, her skin clean.
‘Thank you,’ said Pippa, clasping Pandaisia’s hands, then quickly pulling back, blushing.
The Grace smiled. ‘No need to be embarrassed. That is your true beauty. Your heart.’
Pippa’s questions about Aphrodite would have to wait until she saw the goddess for herself. Pandaisia might speak and move with elegance, but Pippa preferred straightforward answers. Still, it felt nice to be clean and wearing fine things. She felt brighter, taller. Pinching sandals were a small price to pay.
Outside the sleeping quarters, an enormous silver chariot awaited. Instead of wheels, two golden wings extended out from the sides, forming platforms so large they could easily carry all twelve riders.
The riders weren’t the only ones in finery. Four winged horses stood at the ready, side by side, in two rows, as magnificent as the ones Pippa had met today but regally adorned. Pearls were braided through their manes, and their tails were strung with golden threads. She thought of Zeph and how pearls would shine in his silver mane.
‘I would have you ride up, except you are not ready,’ said Bellerophon. ‘It would only cause an embarrassment to us all. So meet my friends – grooms from the gods’ palace, and winners of past races.’ He gestured to a boy on his left, who had a mane-like mop of hair. ‘This is Dion.’ Then he gestured to a taller boy on his right, ‘And Archippos. They will take us up.’
‘Dion, the last race’s winner,’ whispered Sophia. Sophia seemed to know everything. ‘He rode Nikomedes. And Archippos won the very first race.’
‘And now they drive the gods’ chariots,’ said Khrys. ‘I would be well suited to that task.’
But they should be ancient, thought Pippa. The last race was a hundred years ago … and the first … But since the gods chose the age they wished to appear, the winners must too. Regardless of their age, they looked confident standing beside the great groom.
Everyone clambered into the chariot, on to the wings. Pippa climbed up as well and awkwardly took her place between Bas, the broad-shouldered boy, who didn’t even acknowledge her, and the slight boy, Timon, who nodded shyly.
Together, Dion and Archippos gave a shout and flicked the reins. The horses whinnied and their wings flexed, pearled manes flashing. Pippa thought of Zeph and felt a shiver of excitement course through her body, stronger than the rumble of hunger from her stomach.
The chariot jerked, and she felt herself almost lose her footing. Bas reached out as if to help her, but he quickly pulled his hand away.
‘Are you excited?’ she asked. But he didn’t answer, only looked away.
She turned to Timon. ‘What do you think the palace will be like?’
He didn’t say a word either.
Pippa felt her cheeks go hot. So it wasn’t just Khrys. Bellerophon had said that here they were all equal, but of course the other riders wouldn’t treat her that way, no matter how she felt. It would take more than fine clothes and a glittering brooch to change her into anything but a foundling.
The chariot lurched again, rising higher into the sky, and Pippa’s excitement returned as they soared into the darkness, guided by the silver smile of the moon.
Everyone was quiet as they neared the top of the mountain and the silhouette of the palace came into view. There wasn’t just one mountain peak; there were three. And as they drew closer, Pippa could see each one was decorated with a building – a spread of buildings, connected by archways and patios and turrets, glittering like clusters of constellations.
The wind bit at Pippa’s cheeks, but her hands were clammy despite the cool night. First the extravagance of her room, and now … would she really step into the gods’ palace? Feast with them?
Maybe not.
They landed on the platform at the bottom of the stairs outside one of the buildings. When they descended from the chariot, they were greeted with a rude surprise.
Although in the glow of lamplight Pippa could see the steps were made of gold and marble, they certainly weren’t as polished or perfect as their distant shadows had led her to believe. Food was strewn everywhere: a pheasant bone, a half-eaten sardine, bits of figs and feta. Barley and honey cakes. Even a pot filled with beans. Not just food. There were goblets tossed aside and what looked like a smashed statue or vase.
Bellerophon seemed as confused as Pippa and the other riders. His brow was furrowed as he marched up the steps to the massive doors, which were carved with a frieze of the earth, the sea and the sky.
He knocked with his cane, the sound reverberating into the night.
At first, no one came. But when he knocked again, the doors creaked open. Pippa tried to peer around him, to see who had opened the door, but she couldn’t make the person out.
‘I’ve brought the riders,’ said Bellerophon.
‘It’s not a good night,’ came a muffled voice.
‘But it’s the night of the welcoming feast! The gods and goddesses know this,’ huffed Bellerophon.
‘Yes, indeed. But … Poseidon went into one of his rants, about how it should be a water race with the hippocampi instead. And Ares smashed Hera’s … well, you can imagine. I tried to stop them, but it was no use. You’d better come in. You can see for yourself.’
Bellerophon grunted.
He turned to the riders and the two young grooms, staring open-mouthed with the horses. ‘Wait here,’ he said. ‘I will be right back.’
What was going on? Pippa wondered, as Theodoros asked the same thing out loud.
‘A fight,’ replied Bas flatly. He slumped down heavily on a step.
‘I doubt wise Athena had anything to do with this.’ Sophia waved her hand at the litter all around them.
‘Or Hera,’ echoed another.
‘I’m hungry,’ said Khrys, almost in a whine. ‘We were supposed to have a feast!’
Pippa was hungry too, but there was plenty to eat, far better than the scraps she was used to. She picked up a piece of bread from the ground.
‘You can’t eat that!’ Khrys burst out. His face twisted in repulsion.
‘There’s nothing wrong with—’ began Pippa, shame causing her cheeks to blush.
‘Disgusting,’ spat Khrys.
‘Disgusting,’ echoed Perikles, who was standing beside him.
‘No wonder the gods won’t let us in,’ continued Khrys, ‘with the likes of you among us. Foundlings have no place in the Winged Horse Race.’
Before Pippa could reply, Sophia said, ‘She’s a rider, same as you. And if she wins—’
‘Wins? With that pony?’ Khrys spat.
‘Zeph has as much chance as any horse,’ Pippa retorted, finding her voice. But the confidence she had felt earlier had disappeared.
‘He’s as scrawny and pathetic as you. Runts like him don’t belong in the race. And neither do girls.’
Sophia replied, furious, ‘Calista. Elena. Damaris … their names are carved in the statue too.’
‘Pure luck,’ said Khrys.
Sophia snorted. ‘I don’t know why I bother to speak to you.’ She crossed her arms and turned away.
Khrys stared at Pippa. ‘Why are you still here?’ He pushed her away, and Pippa stumbled, falling down several steps.
‘Hey,’ called Dion. ‘Watch it!’ He hurried up towards Pippa. ‘Are you OK?’
Pippa nodded. She didn’t turn to look back at Khrys. She dared not. Her eyes felt damp.
‘Good,’ said Dion, his face crinkled with true concern.
‘I saw the impressive show you put on today in the sky,’ he said. ‘Riding so soon, without any training. Well done.’
A blush of pride replaced Pippa’s blush of shame.
‘If you’re worried about the feast, don’t be,’ he added. ‘There’ll be food back at your quarters. Zeus won’t want you to go hungry.’
Dion smiled and gave her a wink.
There was magic in his eyes. Of course there was. He was a winner – he got to stay with the winged horses forever.
A door slammed and Bellerophon emerged, looking furious, and ordered everyone back on the chariot. The feast had been cancelled.
Khrys grumbled and made a show of sitting as far away from Pippa as he could. Bas avoided her too, but didn’t say anything. Even Sophia, who had been nice, seemed distracted, disappointed perhaps.
But Pippa didn’t care. She watched Dion and Archippos direct the horses back up into the air and down from the mountaintop. She didn’t want to be with the gods anyway. Not really. She wanted to be with the horses.
She didn’t mind if she was different. Dion thought she was talented, and that mattered more than what Khrys or any of the other children thought. Besides, the one thing she did share with them was the most important thing of all.
She wanted to win.