2.13

1.2K 85 34
                                    

CHAPTER THIRTEEN!
alternatively titled: aurora, percy and keiryn take a sheep-y ride

CHAPTER THIRTEEN!alternatively titled: aurora, percy and keiryn take a sheep-y ride

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

"YOU'RE A FEISTY ONE!" THE DEEP VOICE BELLOWED.

"Challenge me!" Clarisse's voice, no doubt about it. "Give me back my sword and I'll fight you!"

The monster roared with laughter.

The four of them crept to the edge. They were right above the entrance of the Cyclops's cave.

Below them stood Polyphemus and Grover, still in his wedding dress. Clarisse was tied up, hanging upside down over a pot of boiling water.  

"Hmm," Polyphemus pondered. "Eat loudmouth girl now or wait for wedding feast? What does my bride think?"

He turned to Grover, who backed up and almost tripped over his completed bridal train. "Oh, um, I'm not hungry right now, dear. Perhaps—"

"Did you say bride?" Clarisse demanded. "Who— Grover?"

Next to Aurora, Annabeth tensed and muttered, "Shut up. She has to shut up."

Polyphemus glowered. "What 'Grover'?"

"The satyr!" Clarisse yelled.

"Oh!" Grover yelped. "The poor thing's brain is boiling from that hot water. Pull her down, dear!"

Polyphemus's eyelids narrowed over his baleful milky eye, as if he were trying to see Clarisse more clearly.

The Cyclops was an even more horrible sight than Percy had described. Partly because his rancid smell was up close and personal. Partly because he was dressed in his wedding outfit—a crude kilt and shoulder-wrap, stitched together from baby-blue tuxedoes, as if the he'd skinned an entire wedding party.

"What satyr?" asked Polyphemus. "Satyrs are good eating. You bring me a satyr?"

"No, you big idiot!" bellowed Clarisse. "That satyr! Grover! The one in the wedding dress!"

Aurora wanted to wring Clarisse's neck, but it was too late. All she could do was watch as Polyphemus turned and ripped off Grover's wedding veil—revealing his curly hair, his scruffy adolescent beard, his tiny horns.

Polyphemus breathed heavily, trying to contain his anger. "I don't see very well," he growled. "Not since many years ago when the other hero stabbed me in eye. But YOU'RE—NO—LADY—CYCLOPS!"

The Cyclops grabbed Grover's dress and tore it away. Underneath, the old Grover reappeared in his jeans and T-shirt. He yelped and ducked as the monster swiped over his head.

"Stop!" Grover pleaded. "Don't eat me raw! I—I have a good recipe!"

Aurora brushed her thumb over her ring, but Annabeth hissed, "Wait!"

Polyphemus was hesitating, a boulder in his hand, ready to smash his would-be bride.

"Recipe?" he asked Grover.

thunderstruck | a.c¹Where stories live. Discover now