Usually, when Y/N thought about "monster island," he pictured craggy rocks and bones scattered on the beach like the island of the Sirens.
The Cyclops's island was nothing like that. Okay, it had a rope bridge across a chasm, which was not a good sign. You might as well put up a billboard that said, SOMETHING EVIL LIVES HERE. But except for that, the place looked like a Caribbean postcard. It had green fields and tropical fruits trees and white beaches. As they sailed toward the shore, Ethan breathed in the sweet air. "The Fleece." He even quivered with excitement. Until now, he had shown no real sign of attraction to the Fleece's power, but now he could hardly contain himself.
"If we take it away, will the island die?" Y/N asked.
Annabeth shook her head. "It'll fade. Go back to what it would be normally, whatever that is."
Y/N felt a little guilty about ruining this paradise, but he reminded himself they had no choice. Camp Half-Blood was in trouble.
In the meadow at the base of the ravine, several dozen sheep were milling around. They looked peaceful enough, but they were huge—the size of hippos. Just past them was a path that led up into the hills. At the top of the path, near the edge of the canyon, was a massive oak tree. Something gold glittered in its branches.
"This is too easy," he said.
"We could just hike up there and take it?" Percy said doubtfully.
Annabeth's eyes narrowed. "There's supposed to be a guardian. A dragon or. . . ."
That's when a deer emerged from the bushes. It trotted into the meadow, probably looking for grass to eat, when the sheep all bleated at once and rushed the animal. It happened so fast that the deer stumbled and was lost in a sea of wool and trampling hooves.
Grass and tufts of fur flew into the air.
A second later the sheep all moved away, back to their regular peaceful wanderings. Where the deer had been was a pile of clean white bones.
Y/N and Annabeth exchanged looks.
"Poo!" Ethan exclaimed.
"You can say that again," Percy said. "They're like piranhas."
"Piranhas with wool," Y/N said. "How will we—"
"Look."
Annabeth pointed down the beach, to just below the sheep meadow, where a small boat had been run aground . . . the third lifeboat from the CSS Birmingham.
They decided there was no way they could get past the man-eating sheep. Annabeth wanted to sneak up the path invisibly and grab the Fleece, but in the end Y/N convinced her that something would go wrong. The sheep would smell her. Another guardian would appear. Something. And if that happened, they would be too far to help.
Besides, as Percy said, their first job was to find Grover and whoever had come ashore in that lifeboat—assuming they had gotten past the sheep.
They moored the Queen Anne's Revenge on the back side of the island where the cliffs rose straight up a good two hundred feet. The ship was less likely to be seen there.
The cliffs looked climbable, barely—about as difficult as the lava wall back at camp. At least it was free of sheep. As long as Polyphemus doesn't also keep carnivorous mountains goats, Y/N thought.
They rowed a lifeboat to the edge of the rocks and made their way up, very slowly. Ethan went first because he was the best climber here, then went Annabeth and Percy. Luckily for Y/N, he just had to transform and fly.
Percy muttered, "Not fair."
In the end they only came close to dying six or seven times, which was pretty good. Once, Percy lost his grip and found himself dangling by one hand from a ledge fifty feet above the rocky surf. But he found another handhold and kept climbing. A minute later Annabeth hit a slippery patch of moss and her foot slipped. Fortunately, she found something else to put it against. Unfortunately, that something was Y/N's whole body.
"Sorry," she murmured.
S'okay, he thought, but I never really wanted to know what your sneaker tastes like.
Finally, while Y/N and Ethan just chatted, Annabeth and Percy hauled themselves over the top of the cliff and collapsed.
"Ugh," Percy said.
"Ouch," Annabeth moaned.
Y/N and Ethan started to laugh when another voice bellowed, "Garr!"
Y/N leaped. He whirled around, but he couldn't see who'd spoken.
Annabeth clamped her hand over his mouth. She pointed.
The ledge they were sitting on was narrower than he had realized. It dropped off on the opposite side, and that's where the voice was coming from—right below them.
"You're a feisty one!" the deep voice bellowed.
"Challenge me!" Clarisse's voice, no doubt about that. "Give me back my sword and I'll fight you!"
The monster roared with laughter.
Y/N, Annabeth, Ethan and Percy crept to the edge. They were right above the entrance of the Cyclops's cave. Below them stood Polyphemus and Grover, who, as Percy had said, was really in a 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 bridal train. "Oh, um, I'm not hungry right now, dear. Perhaps—"
"Did you say bride?" Clarisse demanded. "Who—Grover?"
Was she stupid or was it intentional? Next to Y/N, Annabeth 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 a horrible sight. Partly because his rancid smell was now up close. Partly because he was dressed in his wedding outfit—a crude kilt and shoulder-wrap, stitched together from baby-blue tuxedoes, as if he'd skinned an entire wedding party.
"What satyr?" Polyphemus asked. "Satyrs are good eating. You bring me a satyr?"
"No, you big idiot!" Clarisse bellowed. "That satyr! Grover! The one in the wedding dress!"
Y/N wanted to wring Clarisse's neck, but it was too late. All he 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 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!"
Percy reached for his sword, but Annabeth hissed, "Wait!"
Polyphemus was hesitating, a boulder in his hand, ready to smash his would-be bride.
"Recipe?" he asked Grover.
"Oh y-yes! You don't want to eat me raw. You'll get E coli and botulism and all sorts of horrible things. I'll taste much better grilled over a slow fire. With mango chutney! You could go get some mangos right now, down there in the woods. I'll just wait here."
The monster pondered this.
"Grilled satyr with mango chutney," Polyphemus mused. He looked back at Clarisse, still hanging over the pot of boiling water. "You a satyr, too?"
"No, you overgrown pile of dung!" she yelled. "I'm a girl! The daughter of Ares! Now untie me so I can rip your arms off!"
"Rip my arms off," Polyphemus repeated.
"And stuff them down your throat!"
"You got spunk."
"Let me down!"
Polyphemus snatched up Grover as if he were a wayward puppy. "Have to graze sheep now. Wedding postponed until tonight. Then we'll eat satyr for the main course!"
"But . . . you're still getting married?" Grover sounded hurt. "Who's the bride?"
Polyphemus looked toward the boiling pot.
Clarisse made a strangled sound. "Oh, no! You can't be serious. I'm not—"
Before anyone could do anything, Polyphemus plucked her off the rope like she was a ripe apple, and tossed her and Grover into the cave. "Make yourself comfortable! I come back at sundown for big event!"
Then the Cyclops whistled, and a mixed flock of goat and sheep smaller than the man-eaters flooded out of the cave and past their master. As they went to pasture, Polyphemus patted some on the back and called them by name—Beltbuster, Tammany, Lockhart, and so on.
When the last sheep had waddled out, Polyphemus rolled a boulder in front of the doorway as easily as you would close a refrigerator door, shutting off the sound of Clarisse and Grover screaming inside.
"Mangos," Poplyphemus grumbled to himself. "What are mangos?"
He strolled off down the mountain in his baby-blue groom's outfit, leaving Y/N, Annabeth, Ethan, and Percy alone with a pot of boiling water and a six-ton boulder.
They tried for what seemed like hours, but it was no good. The boulder wouldn't move. They yelled into the cracks, tapped on the rock, did everything they could think of to get a signal to Grover, but if he heard them, they couldn't tell.
Even if by some miracle they managed to kill Polyphemus, it wouldn't do them any good. Grover and Clarisse would die inside that sealed cave. The only way to move the rock was to have the Cyclops do it.
They sat on the ridge in despair and watched the distant baby-blue shape of the Cyclops as he moved among his flocks. He had wisely divided his regular animals from his man-eating sheep, putting each group on either side of the huge crevice that divided the island. The only way across was the rope bridge, and the planks were much too far apart for sheep hooves.
They watched as Polyphemus visited his carnivorous flock on the far side. Unfortunately, they didn't eat him. In fact, they didn't seem to bother him at all. He fed them chunks of mystery meat from a great wicker basket.
"Trickery," Annabeth decided. "We can't beat him by force, so we'll have to use trickery."
"Okay," Ethan said. "What trick?"
"I haven't figured that part out yet."
"Great."
"At sunset," Percy said. "Which is when he'll marry Clarisse and have Grover for dinner. I'm not sure which is grosser."
"Eating Grover," Y/N said. "Clarisse is monsters' type."
"I could get inside," Annabeth said, "invisibly."
"What about us?" Ethan asked.
"The sheep," Annabeth mused. She gave one of those sly looks that always made Y/N wary. "How much do you like sheep?"
Y/N didn't know how he'd gotten there.
"Just don't let go!" Annabeth said, standing invisibly somewhere off to his right.
"Easy to say," he groaned. "You're not hanging upside down from the belly of a sheep."
"You've got feet!" Ethan's voice said on his left. "Try doing it with hooves."
In fact, it wasn't as hard as Y/N had thought. The sheep didn't care. Even the Cyclops's smallest sheep were big enough to support his weight, and they had thick wool. He just twirled the stuff into handles for his hand, hooked his feet against the sheep's tight bones, and presto—he felt like a baby wallaby, riding around against the sheep's chest, trying to keep the wool out of his mouth and his nose.
By the way, the underside of a sheep doesn't smell that great. Like a winter sweater that's been dragged through the mud and left in the laundry hamper for a week. Something like that.
The sun was going down.
No sooner was Y/N in position than the Cyclops roared, "Oy! Goaties! Sheepies!"
The flock dutifully began trudging back up the slopes toward the cave. "This is it!" Annabeth whispered. "I'll be close by. Don't worry."
If they survived that, Y/N would consider Annabeth the greatest genius of all time.
His sheep taxi started plodding up the hill. After a hundred yards, his hands and feet started to hurt from holding on. He gripped the sheep's wool more tightly, and the animal made a grumbling sound.
"Hasenpfeffer!" the Cyclops said, patting one of the sheep in front of Y/N. "Einstein! Widget—eh there, Widget!"
Polyphemus patted Percy's sheep and nearly knocked Percy to the ground. "Putting on some extra mutton there?"
Uh oh, Y/N thought. Here it comes.
But Polyphemus just laughed and swatted Percy's sheep rear end, propelling them forward. "Go on, fatty! Soon Polyphemus will eat you for breakfast!"
Soon enough Y/N was in the cave too.
The last sheep—Ethan's—was coming inside. If Annabeth didn't pull off her distraction soon. . . .
The Cyclops was about to roll the stone back into place, when from somewhere outside Annabeth shouted, "Hello, ugly!"
Polyphemus stiffened. "Who said that?"
"Nobody!" Annabeth yelled.
That got exactly the reaction she'd been hoping for. The monster's face turned red with rage.
"Nobody!" Polyphemus yelled back. "I remember you!"
"You're too stupid to remember anybody," Annabeth taunted. "Much less Nobody."
Polyphemus bellowed furiously, grabbed the nearest boulder—which happened to be his front door—and threw it toward the sound of Annabeth's voice. Y/N heard the rock smash into a thousand fragments.
For a terrible moment, there was silence. Then Annabeth shouted, "You haven't learned to throw any better, either!"
Polyphemus howled. "Come here! Let me kill you, Nobody!"
"You can't kill Nobody, you stupid oaf," she taunted. "Come find me!"
Polyphemus barreled down the hill toward her voice.
To think that just using the name Odysseus had used to trick Polyphemus would provoke such a reaction. Apparently, he didn't even stop to consider that Annabeth's voice was female, whereas the first Nobody had been male. On the other hand, he'd wanted to marry Grover, so he couldn't have been all that bright about the whole male/female thing.
Y/N just hoped Annabeth could stay alive and keep distracting him long enough for him, Ethan and Percy to find Grover and Clarisse.
He dropped off his ride with Ethan and Percy. They searched the main room, but there was no sign of Grover or Clarisse. They pushed through the crowd of sheep and goats toward the back of the cave.
They had a hard time finding their way through the maze. They ran down corridors littered with bones, past rooms full of sheepskin rugs and life-size cement sheep that Y/N recognized as the work of Medusa. They were collections of sheep T-shirts; large tubs of lanolin cream; and wooly coats, socks, and hats with ram's horns. Finally, they found the spinning room, where Grover was huddled in the corner, trying to cut Clarisse's bonds with a pair of safety scissors.
"It's no good," Clarisse said. "This rope is like iron!"
"Just a few more minutes!"
"Grover!" she cried, exasperated. "You've been working at it for hours!"
And then they saw Y/N, Ethan, and Percy.
"Perrrrrcy!" Grover bleated and tackled Percy with a goat-hug. "You heard me! You came!"
"Yeah, buddy," Percy said. "Of course I came."
"What are you doing here?" Clarisse said. "You're supposed to be blown up!"
Y/N groaned. He walked up to her. It wasn't honorable, hitting a damsel in distress, but he didn't care.
Ethan held him back. "I'll attend to it personally."
"What are you—?" Clarisse never finished her sentence; one of Ethan's hooves sank in her stomach, and she went rolling a few feet away.
Ethan breathed out. "Feels good."
"Just looking at it, I got it," Y/N said. "Now, everyone's here, that's great, but we don't have time."
Percy uncapped Riptide and sliced off Clarisse's ropes. She sprang up and ran at Ethan. She never saw Y/N's foot before tripping over it.
"Clarisse. . . ." He sighed. "Typical of Ares. Nothing in the head, everything in the muscles."
She glared at him.
She seemed about to retort something when an explosion echoed through the cave, followed by a scream that told Y/N they might be too late. It was Annabeth crying out in fear.