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But it wasn’t fine. None of this was fine.
Not only was her stomach in her throat with three years of buried terror, she found that she’d lost a good step of her instincts, too. And besides, in the Alogo, the entire pegasus race was short and sharp, taking just a few minutes. That meant they could fly fast and low to the ground, where the paying customers could see them.
She gulped and closed her eyes.
Even the strongest pegasus could only fly for about five minutes, and even that was so taxing to the heavy creatures that it was done sparingly. And though she’d long heard of the flight technique of gliding—extending flight time hugely by catching warm, spiraling updrafts that required no additional effort on the steeds—she’d never experienced it herself.
“What are you doing?” asked Zosime, from a dozen feet away.
Teigra forced her eyes open, trying not to look down. “I was just... thinking of a plan.”
“Really? Because it looked like you were scared of heights.”
“What? Of course not. I’ve done this plenty of times,” she lied, sneaking the smallest peek below. Their ship was now so small and distant she could cover it with her thumb.
“What are we looking for?” said Zosime, over the sound of the cool winds that whipped her long hair, glinting like black glass in the warming light.
Teigra shielded her eyes, waiting for the clouds to clear beneath them. “That!” she said, suppressing the twisting feeling in her stomach.
Zosime stared at the distant, gold-tipped waves. “I don’t see anything.”
“Just there. Can you see the little circles running counter to the swell?
“How the fuck did you spot that?” squinted Zosime, reaching for the whip she had looped onto the saddle.
“We used to take them down to the shoreline for exercise sometimes. They have very distinctive movements in deep water. And you don’t need that. The whip isn’t to whip them into submission. They use it because, at full pace, the animals are completely underwater, so they can’t hear commands. The whip is cracked just above the waterline to keep their pace steady and tell them which way to turn.”
After a long stare, Zosime restowed the whip and gestured for Teigra to lead.
She’d never rounded up hippocamps before. The ones back home were so well trained that they came at a whistle and a toss of sardines.
The first few swoops toward the swell made her feel physically sick, not just with the long-forgotten plummeting sensation, but with the lingering memory of the last awful dive she’d taken. But after a few attempts, the old instincts filtered back—the way you could position your weight to steer, without needing to yank at the reins; the arcs that conserved energy and maximized the speed of the approach; and the way you had to trust your mount, even if it felt like she might slip from the momentum.
That lesson was the hardest, and she certainly wasn’t going to learn it today. With every swoop, her knees gripped hard.
Varas was pure pack horse, sturdy and strong, but without the finesse or near-instant turn of speed that a thoroughbred racer like Astrapi had. But with some trial and error—swooping down and yelling through cupped hands, flying their two steeds so low their hooves dug turquoise grooves into the swell—they managed to get the hippocamps moving, with her and Zosime weaving behind on warm drafts.
“I’m sorry,” said Zosime, when they were about halfway back.
“What for?”
“You’re not as useless as I thought.”
“Then why did you say it? You barely even knew me, but you acted like my existence was an insult?”
Zosime stared at the sunset, touching purple and pink at the edges. “I don’t have any contempt for those without the stomach to fight, Teigra. There are plenty of women who attend Palaestra Xiphos or turn up at the Gipedo Thanatou who just don’t have the heart for it. Maybe they’ve been forced into it by their family, convinced of the message that the Brotherhoods and Sisterhoods need strong and willing bodies. Maybe they’re ashamed of their lack of ferocity and want to change. But one throw, one bad landing, and they’re a sobbing mess. Those women can try all they want, but they’ll never be Sister material. It just isn’t in their stars.”
There was a stab in Teigra’s chest. So that’s what Zosime thinks of me?
“But,” continued the princess. “I do have contempt for those with the potential to do great things, who are too weak to apply themselves.”
“What do you mean? Do you know how hard it was for me to get on this steed? To get on this ship? To run out and save you?”
“Now, yes. But I first saw you when you crossed our borders. I saw that Accola boy stunned and your cousin cowering. I saw you leap into action when no one else would, despite having no training and no proper weapons.” There was a bitter turn in her face. “And then I saw you freeze.”
“I... I was scared.”
“No. Scared I could forgive. You were indecisive. I saw you reach for the rope netting. You knew what to do. But you didn’t commit. That is what I found pathetic, Teigra. To have the skills, to have the instinct, and not use them properly? That’s a wretched thing.”
