Pippa never encountered another rider on the mountain. Until the day she decided to return to the stream where she had seen the nymph playing. Using the Fates’ map, she reached the spot, only to find Theodoros there, kneeling on the bank, his horse in the water and surrounded by nymphs.
Upon seeing Zeph and Pippa, the nymphs dived underwater and Pippa could see ripples on the surface as they swam away.
Theodoros went red, tugging at his horse, Hali. Hali seemed to be chewing something and didn’t budge. Theodoros gave Hali’s reins another yank. ‘Come on,’ he barked. This was the first time Pippa had heard him raise his voice.
‘I won’t say anything if you don’t,’ he said to her, finally drawing Hali out of the water and mounting his steed.
‘But …’ began Pippa, confused. The others knew she was being punished and had to train on the mountain. She didn’t have secrets. But clearly Theodoros did.
‘I have to do this, OK? It’s Poseidon’s orders. Please don’t say anything.’ He gave her a desperate look.
About what?
After he sped away, Pippa noticed strange green reeds floating in the water where Hali had been. They looked like the same kind Poseidon had thrown on her, food Bellerophon had forbidden. But when she went to take a closer look, they disappeared under the water. Should she tell Bellerophon? But she had no proof. And Theodoros had looked so afraid. She wished she could ask Aphrodite for advice, but still her goddess hadn’t made an appearance.
If Bellerophon had told Aphrodite that Pippa had got into trouble and was now training elsewhere, it clearly hadn’t bothered the goddess, at least not enough to come and seek her out.
Instead of worrying about Theodoros and Hali – or Aphrodite – she focused her attention on Zeph, spending more and more time with him.
She was spending all her nights in his stall. Her room in the sleeping quarters was beautiful, but uncomfortable – and lonely. She preferred the company of horses to a soft mattress. Used to years of sleeping curled on a hay bed, with the familiar snorts and swishes of the animals, Pippa slept much better in the stables.
Since Zeph’s and Kerauno’s stalls were side by side, Pippa saw Bas more than any of the others. Kerauno’s stall was cavernous, double the size of Zeph’s, because it needed to be, and Bas was often there late into the night cleaning it. Once or twice he’d given Zeph a treat that Kerauno had refused. Not even sweets softened the monstrous horse, though Zeph certainly seemed grateful to Bas.
So when Pippa was woken one night by a cry of frustration, she thought it must be Bas. But it wasn’t.
Pippa peeked out of Zeph’s stall and discovered, to her surprise, that it was Sophia.
Sophia was standing in the doorway of Ajax’s stall, on the other side of Kerauno’s, her hands clenched into fists, her body stiff as stone. But only for a moment, because the next instant, she slumped down to the hay-covered floor.
Zeph was still asleep, his folded wings rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Pippa tiptoed out of the stall and into the hallway, towards Sophia.
‘Are you all right?’ Pippa asked.
Sophia stood up, startled, brushing herself off. ‘Oh!’ she said. ‘It’s you. I didn’t know anyone else was here.’ Her tone seemed disdainful, but then she said, ‘You’re always here, aren’t you? Khrys says you’re sleeping with the horses now because you don’t know how to use a bed. That boy has the arrogance of a god but the wits of a squid.’
Pippa laughed, and Sophia seemed pleased at her reaction.
‘He is exactly the kind of boy I've been warned about,’ Sophia went on. ‘Not that I completely blame him. When girls are only trained to stay in the house, and boys trained to believe that they are better than girls, it is no wonder. But look at us – the gods and goddesses know that we can fly and ride and do so much more!’ She smiled at Pippa, and Pippa smiled back at the compliment.
‘But I will have no chance of winning, not at this rate.’ Sophia sighed.
‘What do you mean?’
Sophia gestured to Ajax, who was standing away from her, pressed against one wall.
‘Ajax is sick, and I can’t determine the cause.’
‘Sick?’ Pippa stepped closer to get a better look, but the grey horse didn’t seem to notice her. His eyes were dull and he looked gaunt.
‘It does look like something’s wrong with him,’ agreed Pippa. She realized she hadn’t seen him grazing with the other horses at the end of the day.
‘But what?’ said Sophia. ‘I’ve checked his feet and hooves – there’s no lameness. I’ve examined his wings, which seem strong and sure. He doesn’t have colic or mange, for he is not sweating or itching. He has no fever, and he can stand and fly.’ Sophia sighed again. ‘I’ve done everything I can, yet he is not alert. He barely eats, barely flies. I’ll never race at this rate!’
‘May I look?’ Pippa asked.
Sophia nodded. ‘Though I don’t expect you to find anything.’
Pippa entered the stall. Ajax’s head hung low. She crouched down beside him and carefully checked his teeth. They were worn flat, a sign he was very old. Is he too old to be a racer? she wondered. But when she stood and checked his wings, she thought again. They were strong, despite his age. Ajax shifted away from her touch, revealing the scar, wide and white, on his flank.
‘I’ve checked that too, of course,’ said Sophia, leaning over Pippa’s shoulder. ‘It’s a wound from long ago and has healed perfectly. It should not be paining him.’
‘Was it from another race?’ asked Pippa, as she stroked the horse’s silvery mane.
‘No,’ said Sophia. ‘This is his first. Athena told me Ajax was not always a winged horse. He was named after a Trojan warrior and was once a mighty battle horse in Sparta. That’s where he received that scar. Athena heard of his bravery and prowess and rewarded him with wings. She was confident that he would fly as fast as he galloped, but he has yet to show any ability at all. When I tried to ask Athena what to do, she only gave me this.’ Sophia pointed to a box in a corner of the stall. ‘Inside are his old war medallions. Useless. A scroll would have been much more help.’
As Pippa listened, she stroked Ajax’s bowed neck. She thought of the mare she had looked after back in Athens, who was afraid of storms and whose head hung similarly. She was a beautiful horse, fit to pull a chariot, but pulling a cart to market instead. Her bowed neck wasn’t from an accident or hard work but from a broken spirit.
‘Perhaps he is hurt inside,’ Pippa suggested.
‘A stomach ailment would cause fever and sweating. I’ve checked that,’ replied Sophia.
‘No, I mean … maybe he misses being a battle horse. You said he was great – brave and revered? Perhaps he feels like this is less—’
Sophia cut her off. ‘Ridiculous! Here he has wings! Here he is on the mountain of the gods!’
‘But it’s not quite the same as being in a battle, is it?’ said Pippa. She walked over and picked up the box and opened it. Inside were a gold laurel leaf and a silver medallion, like her coin but much bigger. ‘Maybe these aren’t for you. Maybe they’re for Ajax. To remind him of who he was. Of who he is.’
Sophia scowled and took the box, snapping it shut. ‘I think it’s time for you to go.’
‘It was just an idea,’ said Pippa quietly. She left the stall, glancing back at Ajax, hoping that Sophia would find a way to help him.
But Zeph was her concern, not Ajax. She didn’t want to stir up trouble. After all, she had been warned.