Chapter X V I

104 4 3
                                    

Chapter 16

A Flower Against A Dog

Cyrus had finally found something he was really good at.

The Queen Anne's Revenge responded to his every command. He knew which ropes to hoist, which sails to raise, which direction to steer. They plowed through the waves at what Cyrus figured was about ten knots. He even understood how fast that was. For a sailing ship, pretty darn fast.

It all felt perfect-the wind in his face, the waves breaking over the prow.

But now that they were out of danger, all he could think about was how much he missed Tyson, and how worried he was about Grover.

He couldn't get over how badly he'd messed up on Circe's Island. If it hadn't been for (y/n) and Annabeth, he'd still be a rodent, hiding in a hutch with his brother a bunch of cute furry pirates. He thought about what Circe had said: See, Cyrus? You've unlocked your true self!

He still felt changed. Not just because he had a sudden desire to eat lettuce. He felt jumpy, like the instinct to be a scared little animal was now a part of him. Or maybe it had always been there. That's what really
worried Cyrus.

They sailed through the night.

Annabeth tried to help him and Percy keep lookout, but sailing didn't agree with her. After a few hours rocking back and forth, her face turned the color of guacamole and she went below to lie in a hammock, like (y/n).

Cyrus watched the horizon. More than once he spotted monsters. A plume of water as tall as a skyscraper spewed into the moonlight. A row of green spines slithered across the waves-something maybe a hundred feet long, reptilian. He didn't really want to know.

Once he saw Nereids, the glowing lady spirits of the sea. Cyrus tried to wave at them, but they disappeared into the depths, leaving him unsure whether they'd seen him or not.

Sometime after midnight, Annabeth and (y/n) came up on deck. They were just passing a smoking volcano island. The sea bubbled and steamed around the shore.

"One of the forges of Hephaestus," Annabeth said. "Where he makes his metal monsters."

"Like the bronze bulls?"

She nodded. "Go around. Far around."

Cyrus didn't need to be told twice. They'd steered clear of the island, and soon it was just a red patch of haze behind them.

Percy looked at Annabeth. "The reason you hate Cyclopes so much... the story about how Thalia really died. What happened?"

It was hard to see her expression in the dark.

"I guess you deserve to know," she said finally. "The night Grover was escorting us to camp, he got confused, took some wrong turns. You remember he told you that once?"

The boys all nodded.

"Well, the worst wrong turn was into a Cyclops's lair in Brooklyn."

"They've got Cyclopes in Brooklyn?" (y/n) asked.

"You wouldn't believe how many, but that's not the point. This Cyclops, he tricked us. He managed to split us up inside this maze of corridors in an old house in Flatbush. And he could sound like anyone. Just the way Tyson did aboard the Princess Andromeda. He lured us, one at time. Thalia thought she was running to save Luke. Luke thought he heard me scream for help. And me... I was alone in the dark. I was seven years old. I couldn't even find the exit."

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩Where stories live. Discover now