Although Pippa was focused on training, Zeph, it seemed, had other plans. The more Pippa wanted him to practise flying around the training course as fast as he could go, the less he obeyed. The flags were still an endless source of interest, especially the new silver one that had been put up to replace the flag that had blown away. Or Zeph would catch sight of a bird or butterfly, or a rabbit on the ground below, and suddenly change course.
Pippa and Zeph weren’t the only ones with problems. Sophia’s horse seemed inordinately slow and stubborn, and Bas was still being bucked from Kerauno. Khrys’s golden steed had taken a liking to flying as close as he could to the sun, no matter what Khrys seemed to do.
Every day the schedule was the same, problems or not. After breakfast, Bellerophon taught the riders a new skill and then they practised what they had learned until lunchtime. In the afternoon, they trained on the track, flying lap after lap after lap, until they were racing the course in their dreams. By the time they were finished grooming and feeding the horses, it was time for a late supper and bed.
Bellerophon’s morning lectures didn’t seem to help Pippa with Zeph, although she liked learning the best way to hold her legs, so as not to get them in the way of the wings, and how to keep the reins hugged close to the horse’s neck, so they didn’t flap in the wind.
‘Riding on a stormy day can be dangerous,’ cautioned Bellerophon. ‘Since Zeus is the judge, he doesn’t participate in the race as a patron, nor does he place any bets, so playing with the weather is his only way to have fun. You must watch the skies closely.’
Pippa did just that, trying to determine when there were the least distractions. She tried training before the lessons, only to find Eos on the horizon, pulling up the sun in her pink-gold chariot. Zeph wanted to fly after her, and Pippa couldn’t blame him. She too was enraptured by the goddess of dawn’s beauty. Pippa couldn’t help but think again about Aphrodite, the goddess of beauty and love. She couldn’t wait to meet her.
And at last the day arrived. ‘Come, hurry!’ Bellerophon declared, gathering the riders in the courtyard. Pippa noticed he looked harried.
‘What about breakfast?’ asked Theodoros.
Bellerophon groaned. ‘Breakfast?! I— Never mind. No breakfast today. We have to visit the gods. It’s Visiting Day.’
Ever since the failed feast, Bellerophon had said the gods and goddesses were planning a visit, but Pippa thought that meant the gods would be visiting them this time. ‘But … I’m not dressed to see the gods,’ stammered Pippa. ‘I’m dressed for riding.’
‘I haven’t bathed in days,’ said another rider behind her.
‘No time!’ Bellerophon bellowed. ‘You have to ride. We’re not going far.’
‘Not to the palace?’ asked Sophia.
‘Palace? Not this time. No, to the glade. Dionysus helped me set it up. Not that I wanted him to …’ He sighed. ‘Come, best we get there before they do. I’ve already brought your horses down.’
And so they trooped out of the courtyard, into the misty morning.
‘Do you think they will really come?’ ‘What will they want us to do?’ a few children whispered. Pippa found herself walking side by side with Bas. He was stiff and quiet, clearly as nervous as she was.
The horses stood at the ready. Zeph looked extra excited, struggling to keep still.
Pippa slipped on to his back. Bellerophon mounted a horse too. His own giant steed, with grey and white wings, that they had seen once or twice before. With a cry of ‘Follow me!’ he led them up into the morning sky.
They soared away from the stables, and before long Bellerophon directed them down to what looked like a temple. Except instead of pillars of stone, this temple was made from trees, each intertwining with another. And instead of leaves, these trees seemed to be growing feathers, silver and soft, long as the feathers of the winged horses. In the centre of the temple a great spring bubbled up. ‘That spring was made by Pegasus’s hoof,’ explained Bellerophon.
Pippa stared at the spring below with awe. She knew Pegasus’s hoof had power. Although her name, Hippolyta, meant lover of horses, she wasn’t given the name because of that. She was named after the Hippocrene well, where the old song-stitcher had found her as a baby. Hippos meant horse, and the well, it was said, had burst into life long ago when Pegasus pawed the ground. She didn’t know he had made other springs.
It seemed like a sign. She slipped her hand into her pocket and felt for her coin. She was ready to find answers about her parents – whatever those answers might be.
Bellerophon landed at the temple’s entrance and dismounted, gesturing for them to do the same. Pippa and the others did so, and he said, ‘Let the horses graze. They will not stray far.’
The spring and the temple were beautiful. Since the feather leaves didn’t rustle in the wind, there was a quiet that was almost reverent. Even Zeph seemed to sense it and was calm beside Pippa. Not even his tail swished.
A crow broke the silence: ‘The riders are here!’
And with that, a flurry of gods and goddesses burst forth – some swooping from the sky, others striding from between the trees, one even transforming from a tree. Each seemed more spectacular than the last. One wore a wreath woven of grains and a dress as golden as a wheat field. Surely this was Demeter, goddess of the harvest. Another had a scraggly beard tangled with bits of metal that glinted in the sun. Undoubtedly Hephaestus, god of blacksmiths. And it had to be Poseidon who jumped from the spring itself, splashing some of the other gods and goddesses and making them cry out in annoyance. Among these was Ares, in his silver helmet. He pointed his spear threateningly at Poseidon.
‘Come! Come now!’ bellowed Bellerophon. Pippa wasn’t sure if he was shouting at the gods or at them. The commotion unsettled the waiting horses. Kerauno reared up with a whinny that turned to a roar.
‘Whoa!’ yelled Ares. He put down his spear and strode towards the massive horse. Gently but firmly, he gripped Kerauno’s reins and coaxed the horse back down while everyone, including the other horses, watched in amazement.
‘Oh ho! The mighty Ares without his spear,’ taunted Poseidon. ‘What shall we see next? Dionysus without his wine?’
Ares scooped his spear off the ground. There was a moment of tense silence, broken by a hearty chuckle. Dionysus raised his cup. ‘Never!’
Everyone began to laugh. Within moments, the riders had paired off with their gods and goddesses. Only Pippa hung back, between two trees, searching hopefully for Aphrodite. She knew Aphrodite was said to be one of the most beautiful of the goddesses, but all the goddesses were beautiful. How would she recognize her?
‘This is for you,’ said a woman’s voice, low yet sweet.
Aphrodite.
No. Pippa peeked around one of the trees and saw Sophia standing nervously beside a goddess with a long graceful neck and a high nose. Athena. Her chiton was short like the riders’ and wrapped with belts that looked like serpents.
‘Remember, Sophia, smart you may be, but I did not choose you for your wits alone,’ said the goddess.
Sophia frowned. ‘But … about Ajax …’ She sounded perplexed.
‘That’s why I am giving you this,’ continued Athena. ‘Just like your horse, there is more than meets the eye.’
She passed to Sophia a wooden box inlaid with precious stones, but her gaze met Pippa’s. Pippa slipped behind the tree trunk, breathing heavily. She had not meant to be caught eavesdropping.
But it was hard not to …
There was so much to see. Between an archway in the temple, she saw Khrys receiving a saddle woven of golden threads from Apollo, who looked remarkably young and rather aloof, like Khrys himself. She turned to see another goddess accompanied by a deer, pinning a long cloak on Perikles. Suddenly, the deer started and bounded away.
No wonder. Out of the forest emerged a fearsome sight: an enormous three-headed dog. He strode towards Timon and sat at the boy’s feet. To Pippa’s great surprise, Timon reached out and took a package from one of the dog’s mouths. The dog gave an unearthly growl and disappeared back into the forest. Timon opened it, looking more ashen than ever, but he didn’t share what it said with the other riders.
Pippa had hoped that Hades would be there and she would be able to summon enough courage to ask him if her parents were dead and now living in the Underworld. But she would have to ask her goddess instead. Still, neither Aphrodite nor any of her Graces – not even Pandaisia – arrived.
And they were not there when the Muses, nine nymphs, paraded out with platters of food; flatbreads and olive paste, crispy fish, spiced eggs and soft figs. Music filled the air, played by Apollo on his lyre. While everyone enjoyed the food, Pippa stayed by two twisted trees that formed the back pillars of the temple. She wasn’t hungry.
‘Aphrodite will come,’ said Sophia encouragingly, walking up and handing her a honey cake.
‘Has Athena gone?’
Sophia nodded. ‘Not all the gods and goddesses spend their time amusing themselves,’ she said, disdainfully gesturing to the others – such as Ares, one of his mighty hands on Bas’s shoulder, the other brandishing a spear that he was showing off to Artemis. ‘Some have more important things to do. I am sure Aphrodite is busy too.’ Sophia sighed. As she headed away, she muttered to herself, ‘I was sure she would give me a scroll, something that would actually help me, but a box of medals …’
Pippa finished the cake and decided it was time to ask Bellerophon where her goddess might be. Bellerophon, however, was in the middle of an argument.
‘You know there are no tricks allowed in the races, Poseidon,’ he said. ‘That food for Theodoros’s horse,’ he said, pointing to the seagrass Poseidon was holding, ‘looks altered …’
Indeed, it was a strange shade of green, almost glowing.
‘So what if it is?’ Poseidon demanded. He shook his head, and water from his hair and beard fell over Pippa and the children like rain.
‘It is not allowed,’ replied Bellerophon sternly.
‘Allowed? Who are you to say what is allowed?’ Poseidon’s face turned blue. ‘What of Ares? Did you not see the spear he gave his rider?’
‘Yes, but that has no magic in it. It is just a spear. Of course, the boy must not use it to—’
Poseidon interrupted with a roar. He flung the handful of seagrass at Bellerophon. It missed and spun towards Timon instead, but seemed to go right through him …
‘Duck!’ cried Bas.
Pippa didn’t move quickly enough. Splat! The stringy, strangely coloured seagrass hit her head, then dripped off, leaving her covered in slime.
Poseidon and Bellerophon just kept arguing. They didn’t seem to notice Pippa. She felt a lump rise in her throat and hurried to the spring to wash herself. ‘I can’t look like this for Aphrodite … if she comes,’ she said to her reflection.
‘You don’t have to worry. She’s not coming,’ said Bas. He walked up beside her. His face was red, and he was awkwardly holding a spear. ‘Ares told me.’
Pippa didn’t reply.
‘Did you hear me?’ asked Bas.
‘Yes!’ said Pippa sharply, storming away. She’d heard. Aphrodite wasn’t coming. Pippa wasn’t surprised. She’d already waited so much of the day. She didn’t want to stay there any longer.
Nor, it seemed, did Zeph. She found him nearby the temple, his attention fixed on a white bird, dancing just beyond the treetops. His wings were quivering.
‘OK, Zeph,’ she said. ‘Let’s go.’