LUNACY; percy jackson

02.14

Polyphemus advanced carefully, limping worse than ever. But there was nothing wrong with his throwing arm. He chucked his second boulder. Percy dove to one side, but he still would've been squashed if Tyson's fist hadn't blasted the rock to rubble.

The raven haired boy willed the sea to rise. A twenty-foot wave surged up, lifting him on its crest. He rode toward the Cyclops and kicked him in the eye, leaping over his head as the water blasted him onto the beach.

"Destroy you!" Polyphemus spluttered. "Fleece stealer!"

"You stole the Fleece!" Percy yelled. "You've been using it to lure satyrs to their deaths!"

"So? Satyrs good eating!"

"The Fleece should be used to heal! It belongs to the children of the gods!"

"I am a child of the gods!" Polyphemus swiped at him, but he sidestepped. "Father Poseidon, curse this thief!"

He was blinking hard now, like he could barely see, and Percy realized he was targeting by the sound of his voice.

"Poseidon won't curse me," He said, backing up as the Cyclops grabbed air. "I'm his son, too. He won't play favorites."

Polyphemus roared. He ripped an olive tree out of the side of the cliff and smashed it where Percy had been standing a moment before. "Humans not the same! Nasty, tricky, lying!"

Grover was helping Annabeth aboard the ship. Clarisse was holding Andromeda up with an arm around the girl's waist, waving frantically at Percy, telling him to come on.

Tyson worked his way around Polyphemus, trying to get behind him.

"Young one!" the older Cyclops called. "Where are you? Help me!"

Tyson stopped.

"You weren't raised right!" Polyphemus wailed, shaking his olive tree club. "Poor orphaned brother! Help me!"

No one moved. No sound but the ocean and Percy's own heartbeat. Then Tyson stepped forward, raising his hands defensively. "Don't fight, Cyclops brother. Put down the—"

Polyphemus spun toward his voice.

"Tyson!" Percy shouted.

The tree struck him with such force it would've flattened the boy into a Percy pizza with extra olives. Tyson flew backward, plowing a trench in the sand. Polyphemus charged after him, but Percy shouted, "No!" and lunged as far as he could with Riptide. He'd hoped to sting Polyphemus in the back of the thigh, but he managed to leap a little bit higher.

"Blaaaaah!" Polyphemus bleated just like his sheep, and swung at the boy with his tree.

He dove, but still got raked across the back by a dozen jagged branches. He was bleeding and bruised and exhausted. The guinea pig inside him wanted to bolt. But he swallowed down his fear.

Polyphemus swung the tree again, but this time Percy was ready. He grabbed a branch as it passed, ignoring the pain in his hands as he was jerked skyward, and let the Cyclops lift him into the air. At the top of the arc he let go and fell straight against the giant's face—landing with both feet on his already damaged eye.

Polyphemus yowled in pain. Tyson tackled him, pulling him down. Percy landed next to them— sword in hand, within striking distance of the monster's heart. But he locked eyes with Tyson, and he knew he couldn't do it. It just wasn't right.

"Let him go," Percy told Tyson. "Run."

With one last mighty effort, Tyson pushed the cursing older Cyclops away, and they ran for the surf.