𝓟𝓻𝓪𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓪 - (𝓟.𝓙𝓪𝓬𝓴𝓼𝓸𝓷)

09.

They roll away as the Cyclops's fist smashes the olive tree beside them.
The group run for the bridge, with Polyphemus right behind. He's cut up and hobbling from so many wounds, but all they've done is slow him down and make him mad.
"Grind you into sheep chow!" he promises. "A thousand curses on Nobody!"

"Faster!" Percy yells.
They tear down the hill. The bridge is their only chance.
Grover has just made it to the other side and is setting Annabeth down.

"Grover!" Helia yells. "Get Annabeth's knife!"
His eyes widen when he sees the Cyclops, but he nods like he understands.

As Clarisse, Helia, and Percy scramble across the bridge, Grover begins sawing at the ropes.
The first strand goes snap!
Polyphemus bounds towards them, making the bridge sway wildly.
The ropes are now half-cut. The trio dive for solid ground and land beside Grover.

Helia and Percy make wild slashes with their swords and cut the remaining ropes.
The bridge falls away into the chasm, and the Cyclops howls ... with delight, because he's standing right next to them.

"Failed!" he yells gleefully. "Nobody failed!"
Clarisse and Grover try to charge him, but the monster swats them aside like flies.

Percy's anger swells. He can't believe he'd come this far, lost Tyson, suffered through so much, only to fail—stopped by a big stupid monster in a baby-blue tuxedo kilt. Nobody was going to swat down his friends like that!... nobody, not Nobody.

He turns to his side. Helia is glowing dangerously bright, her rage heightening. She nods at him and raises her sword.
The familiar voice echoes in her head: "I will be with you."
Percy raises his own sword, strength coursing through his body.

They jab the Cyclops in his sides. When he doubles over, they smack him in the nose with the hilt of their swords.
The two slash, kick, and bash until Polyphemus is sprawled on his back, dazed and growing.

Percy stands above him, the tip of his sword hovering over his eye.
Helia is hanging over his shoulder, her sword at his throat.
"Uhhhhhhhh," Polyphemus moans.
Grover gasps. "How did you both—"

"Please, noooo!" the Cyclops moans pitifully. His nose is bleeding. A tear wells in the corner of his half-blind eye. "M-m-my sheepies need me. Only trying to protect my sheep!"

He begins to sob.
"Kill him!" Clarisse yells. "What are you both waiting for?"

The Cyclops sounds so heartbroken, just like ... like Tyson, Percy thinks.

"He's a Cyclops!" Grover warns. "Don't trust him!"
Annabeth would've said the same thing.

But Polyphemus sobs ... and for the first time, it sinks in for Percy that he's a son of Poseidon, too. Like Tyson. Like him. How could he just kill him in cold blood?
One look at Helia tells him that the girl is just as conflicted as him.

"We only want the fleece," he tells the monster. "Will you agree to let us take it?"
"No!" Clarisse shouts. "Kill him!"

The monster sniffs. "My beautiful fleece. Prize of my collection. Take it, cruel human. Take it and go in peace."

"We're both going to step back slowly," Percy tells the monster, looking to Helia, who nods. "One false move ..."
Polyphemus nods like he understands.
They both step back ... and as fast as a cobra, Polyphemus smacks the two to the edge of the cliff.