Nasim had used a stabilizing spell on his legs so that he wouldn't stumble around the deck. Well, so he wouldn't stumble as much. Andy had adapted to the sea so well that she looked as comfortable on the ship as she did on land. Robin... Nasim was pretty sure Robin could have flown around the ship if he wanted to.

The other boy vaulted around the deck like gravity had no hold on him. He was constantly scampering up the mast and hanging from the ropes and swinging out over the water; Robin laughed at the white-winged gulls, the clouds that scampered around, the winds ruffling his hair, and the green land slipping by.

One day, Robin excitedly called Nasim and Andy up to the deck. He was leaning over the starboard (oh, that was the right side of the ship - that little bit of trivia had come to him over night) railing, looking towards land. The trireme had moved closer to shore so that they could see a few distinct features, including about ten splotches of color moving along the sandy shore.

"Ponies!" Andy said delightedly.

And so they were. Broad-chested, concave-faced, straight-legged ponies. From this distance, the only other feature Nasim could see was their color: browns and dark reds, a few cream-colored, and splotched whites.

"Assateague Island," Nasim said suddenly. It was one of those flashes from Hecate; he hadn't known that information two seconds ago, but now he was absolutely sure. "Those are Chincoteague Ponies. Supposedly abandoned by a Spanish Galleon in the 16th century. We're off the coast of Virginia."

Robin and Andy smiled, watching the ponies milling about as the trireme stately passed by. But suddenly something startled the ponies and they took flight; unshod hooves kicking up sand.

But one pony remained behind. He was slightly larger than the others, and continued grazing sedately, as though nothing had happened. He was a dark grey, with four white socks.

Nasim heard an sharp intake of breath; he looked sideways and saw that Robin had grown white. His hazel eyes were wide, and his mouth was set in a grim line.

"Robin?" Nasim asked. Andy - who had still been watching the stallion with a dreamy look that every girl who's always wanted a pony gets when they see a horse - broke her gaze, looking first at Nasim and then at Robin.

"Grey horse," Robin said. "It's a sign of... bad luck." Nasim could tell that Robin had been going to say something else.

"Well, it's not a horse, it's a pony," Andy said, not even trying to tell Robin that his superstition was - well, a superstition. "So it's not the same thing. Right?"

"Yes," Robin said softly, but his face was still pale. "Yes, you might be right."

Robin frowned suddenly, as though someone had whispered something in his ear.

Only later, when night had fallen and they'd all taken to their beds, did Nasim realize something very important. He sat up straight then paused, Robin's even breathing continued without pause - Nasim hadn't woken Robin up.

Grey horse... and couldn't Nasim remember white colorations on the legs of the horse, as though he had put on white socks? Well, white socks were a sign of bad luck, but not grey horses. Grey horses were omens of death.

Sometimes, and only very occasionally, Hecate sent Nasim interesting trivial details.

Nasim slipped out of his bed, tiptoeing past Robin's sleeping form, and snuck out the door. Crossing the hallway, Nasim opened Andy's door.

She was sleeping, her mouth slightly open and her dark hair fanned out on the pillow behind her.

"Andy?" Nasim asked. "Psst, Andy!"

Her mouth closed and she turned onto her side, hand falling out of the bed and straying dangerously near to her sword, which was stashed under the bed.

"Andy, it's Nasim! Wake up!" Nasim shook her shoulder. The girl's eyes flashed open and she glared at Nasim.

"You are sooo lucky you didn't try to wake me up in the morning," she told him.

"We need to talk."

"About the pony?" Andy asked immediately, sitting up. She leant back against the wall and crossed her arms over her chest. Nasim was slightly surprised to see she wore pink pajamas. "Yeah, that was just too weird. And did you hear him? He thought I 'might be right'. Might. I don't know Robin very well, and he spouts poetry every five minutes, but I know he doesn't scare easily."

"Death," Nasim explained. "The grey horse is a widely acknowledged symbol of white feet..."

"Socks," Andy corrected. "They're called socks."

"Yeah, whatever," Nasim shrugged. "But those are supposed to symbolize bad luck."

"I'd say death is bad luck," Andy said.

"Not if it's your enemy's death," Nasim countered. In the darkness, he couldn't see her face very clearly.

"I don't think Robin was seeing his enemy's death in that horse," Andy said very quietly.

Somehow, that passing sight of the horse tainted the next few days of their trip. Robin no longer flew around the ship, but resigned himself to the deck. Nasim didn't think he was afraid of falling, but he seemed to preoccupied to play around anymore. Also, he spent long hours separated from Andy and Nasim, sitting on an upturned bucket, and looking at something - or someone - only he could see.

Andy and Nasim were growing more nervous, too. Not about impending death - which Andy had helpfully pointed out could have applied to any of them since they all say the horse at the same time - but about the lack of anything trying to kill and/or eat them. When they voiced this worry, Robin yet again repeated the "the true evil is contained within human souls, not monsters" speech which, in Nasim's opinion, really didn't go with fish custard (Yes, fish custard. No, Nasim would not be letting Andy do anymore cooking).

A/N: Footnotes:

Chincoteague Ponies: There really is a population of wild ponies living on Assateague Island. However, it is more likely that they were bred from domesticated ponies on the mainland and were not, as the popular story goes, abandoned by a passing Spanish ship.

Fish custard: are there any Matt Smith Doctor Who fans in the audience?