vol i
➵ chapter nine ➵
"I got Nobody!" Polyphemus gloats.
The group creeps to the cave entrance and sees the cyclops grinning wickedly, holding up empty air.
The monster shakes his fist, and a baseball cap flutters to the ground. There's Annabeth, hanging upside down by her legs.
Helia instinctively moves to rush forward, with Clarisse quickly grabbing her.
"Hah!" the Cyclops says. "Nasty invisible girl! Already got feisty one for wife. Means you gotta be grilled with mango chutney!"
Annabeth struggles, but she looks dazed. She has a nasty cut on her forehead. Her eyes are glassy.
"I'll rush him," Percy whispers to Clarisse. "Our ship is around the back of the island. You, Helia, and Grover—"
"No way," the three say at the same time.
Clarisse arms herself with a highly collectible rams-horn spear from the Cyclops's cave.
Grover has a sheep's thigh bone, which he doesn't look too happy about, but is gripping it like a club, ready to attack.
And Helia draws Klironomiá, her bow also hanging readily across her back.
"We'll take him together," Clarisse growls.
"Yeah," Grover says. Then he blinks, like he can't believe he's just agreed with Clarisse about something.
"Come on, Jackson, you should know by now that there's no way I'm backing out of this." Helia argues.
"All right," he says, giving in. "Attack plan Macedonia."
They nod, immediately understanding.
Percy hefts his sword and shouts, "Hey, Ugly!"
The giant whirls around. "Another one? Who are you?"
"Put down my friend. I'm the one who insulted you."
"You are Nobody?"
"That's right, you smelly bucket of nose drool! I'm Nobody and I'm proud of it! Now, put her down and get over here. I want to stab your eye out again."
"RAAAR!" he bellows.
The good news: he drops Annabeth.
The bad news: he drops her headfirst onto the rocks, where she lies as motionless as a rag doll.
The other bad news: Polyphemus is barreling towards the group.
"Grover! Get Annabeth!" Helia yells, and the satyr nods.
The daughter of Apollo then rushes the Cyclops from the right. She throws her hands outwards, blasting light and temporarily blinding the monster, his arms covering his eye.
Clarisse runs in from the left and sets her spear against the ground, just in time for the Cyclops to step on it. He wails in pain, and Clarisse dives out of the way to avoid getting trampled.
Rubbing his eye, the Cyclops just plucks out the shaft like a large splinter and keeps advancing.
Percy moves in with Riptide. The monster makes a grab for him. He rolls aside and stabs him in the thigh.
Grover has reached Annabeth. He grabs her invisibility cap and lifts her up.
Clarisse and Helia charge the Cyclops again and again, working in tandem.
He pounds the ground, stomping and grabbing at the girls.
But they're too quick. Especially Helia, who moves at an unnatural pace, slicing the monster repeatedly as Clarisse distracts it.
He howls in pain.
Percy quickly follows the duo, jumping in and joining the daughter of Apollo, stabbing the Cyclops in the toe, the ankle, or the hand.
Though they know they can't keep it up forever.
Out of the corner of his eye, Percy catches Grover carrying Annabeth across the rope bridge.
"Fall back!" He shouts to the girls.
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.
"Foolish mortals!" he bellows, rising to his feet. "Take my fleece? Ha! I eat you first."
Dazed, Percy sits up, looking to his side.
The daughter of Apollo is limp on the floor, blood rushing from a deep gash in her side.
"Gods, Helia." He goes to crawl over to her when the Cyclops opens his enormous mouth, and Percy is convinced his rotten molars are the last thing he'll ever see.
Then something goes whoosh and thump!
A rock the size of a basketball sails into Polyphemus's throat—a beautiful three-pointer, nothing but net.
The Cyclops chokes, trying to swallow the unexpected pill. He staggers backwards, but there is no place to stagger.
His heel slips, the edge of the cliff crumbles, and the great Polyphemus makes chicken wing motions that do nothing to help him fly as he tumbles into the chasm.
Percy turns.
Halfway down the path to the beach, standing completely unharmed in the midst of a flock of killer sheep, is an old friend.
"Bad Polyphemus," Tyson says. "Not all Cyclopes as nice as we look."
Percy rips his shirt, holding the fabric against Helia's gash as Tyson gives them the short version:
Rainbow the hippocampus—who'd apparently been following ever since the Long Island Sound, waiting for Tyson to play with him—had found Tyson sinking beneath the wreckage of the CSS Birmingham and pulled him to safety. He and Tyson had been searching the Sea of Monsters ever since, trying to find the group, until Tyson caught the scent of sheep and found the island.
Percy wants to hug the big oaf, except he's standing in the middle of killer sheep. "Tyson, thank the gods. Annabeth and Helia are hurt!"
"You thank the gods they are hurt?" he asks, puzzled.
"No!"
Grover kneels beside Annabeth. The gash on her forehead is worse than they'd all realised. Her hairline is sticky with blood. Her skin is pale and clammy.
Percy feels Helia stirring; he holds onto her.
"Tyson, the Fleece. Can you get it for me?"
"Which one?" Tyson says, looking around at the hundreds of sheep.
"In the tree!" Percy says. "The gold one!"
"Oh. Pretty. Yes."
Tyson lumbers over, careful not to step on the sheep.
He seems to smell like Polyphemus, as the flock doesn't bother him at all.
They just cuddle up to him and bleat affectionately, as though they expect to get sheep treats from the big wicker basket.
Tyson reaches up and lifts the fleece off its branch.
Immediately, the leaves on the oak tree turn yellow. Tyson starts wading back. "Throw it!"
The gold ram skin sails through the air like a glittering shag Frisbee. Percy catches it with a grunt.
It's heavier than expected—sixty or seventy pounds of precious gold wool.
He spreads it over Helia's side, praying silently to her father.
Colour returns, and her eyelids flutter open. The gash begins to quickly close.
She looks at Percy. "Polyphemus?"
"Gone." She sighs, relief flooding her face before it falls at the sight of Annabeth.
"Annie!" The girl scrambles off the ground, pulling the gold wool off her side, and rushes over to the daughter of Athena.
Helia spreads the fleece over Annabeth, covering everything but her face, and begins frantically singing a hymn.
The cut on her forehead begins to close. The same life returns to her face. Eyes slowly opening, she smiles at Helia before turning to Grover and weakly saying, "You're not... married?"
Grover grins. "No. My friends talked me out of it."
"Annabeth," Percy says, concerned, "just lay still."
Despite protests, she sits up, with Helia carefully supporting her.
The cut on her face is almost completely healed. She looks a lot better. In fact, she shimmers with health, as if someone has injected her with glitter.
Meanwhile, Tyson is starting to have trouble with the sheep. "Down!" he tells them as they try to climb him, looking for food. A few are sniffing in the group's direction. "No, sheepies. This way! Come here!"
They heed him, but it's obvious they're hungry, and they're starting to realise Tyson doesn't have any treats for them. They won't hold out forever with so much fresh meat nearby.
"We have to go," Percy says. "Our ship is..." The Queen Anne's Revenge is a very long way away.
The shortest route is across the chasm, and they'd just destroyed the only bridge. The only other possibility is through the sheep.
"Tyson," Percy calls, "can you lead the flock as far away as possible?"
"The sheep want food."
"I know! They want people food! Just lead them away from the path. Give us time to get to the beach. Then join us there."
Tyson looks doubtful, but he whistles. "Come, sheepies! Um, people food this way!"
He jogs off into the meadow, the sheep in pursuit.
"Keep the fleece around you," Percy instructs Annabeth. "Just in case you're not fully healed yet. Can you stand?"
She tries, but her face turns pale again. "Ohh. Not fully healed."
Helia grabs onto her securely, feeling her chest. "Ribs are broken, but they're mending. I won't be able to help speed up the healing process in time."
"I'll have to carry her." Clarisse declares.
Before anyone can argue, she picks up Annabeth like a sack of flour and lugs her down to the beach. Grover, Helia, and Percy follow.
As soon as they get to the edge of the water, Percy concentrates on the Queen Anne's Revenge.
He wills it to raise anchor and come to them. After a few anxious minutes, the ship rounds the tip of the island.
"Incoming!" Tyson yells. He's bounding down the path, the sheep about fifty yards behind, bleating in frustration as their Cyclops friend runs away without feeding them.
"They probably won't follow us into the water," Percy reassures the others. "All we have to do is swim for the ship."
"With Annabeth like this?" Helia protests.
"We can do it," he insists. "Once we get to the ship, we're home free."
They almost make it, too.
They were just wading past the entrance to the ravine, when they hear a tremendous roar and see Polyphemus, scraped up and bruised but still very much alive, his baby-blue wedding outfit in tatters, splashing towards them with a boulder in each hand.
"Swim for it!" Grover shouts.
He, Clarisse, and Helia plunge into the surf. Annabeth hangs onto Clarisse's neck and tries to paddle with one hand, the wet fleece weighing her down.
But the monster's attention isn't on the fleece.
"You, young Cyclops!" Polyphemus roars. "Traitor to your kind!"
Tyson freezes.
"Don't listen to him!" Percy pleads. "Come on."
He pulls Tyson's arm, but he might as well have been pulling a mountain.
He turns and faces the older Cyclops. "I am not a traitor."
"You serve mortals!" Polyphemus shouts. "Thieving humans!"
Polyphemus throws his first boulder. Tyson swats it aside with his fist.
"Not a traitor," Tyson says. "And you are not my kind."
"Death or victory!" Polyphemus charges into the surf, but he's still wounded. He immediately stumbles and falls on his face. He starts to get up again, spitting salt water and growling.
"Percy!" Helia yells. "Come on!"
They're almost to the ship with the Fleece. If he could just keep the monster distracted a little longer...
"Go," Tyson tells him. "I will hold Big Ugly."
"No! He'll kill you." He'd already lost Tyson once. He wasn't going to lose him again. "We'll fight him together."
"Together," Tyson agrees.
Percy draws his sword.
Polyphemus advances carefully, limping worse than ever.
But there is nothing wrong with his throwing arm. He chucks his second boulder. Percy dives to one side, saved by Tyson's fist blasting the rock to rubble.
He wills the sea to rise. A twenty-foot wave surges up, lifting him onto its crest. He rides towards the Cyclops and kicks him in the eye, leaping over his head as the water blasts him onto the beach.
"Destroy you!" Polyphemus splutters. "Fleece stealer!"
"You stole the fleece!" Percy yells angrily. "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 swipes. "Father Poseidon, curse this thief!" He's blinking hard now, like he can barely see, and Percy realises he's targeting by the sound of his voice.
"Poseidon won't curse me," he says, backing up as the Cyclops grabs air. "I'm his son, too. He won't play favourites."
Polyphemus roars. He rips an olive tree out of the side of the cliff and smashes it. "Humans not the same! Nasty, tricky, lying!"
Percy looks over, watching as Grover and Helia help Annabeth aboard the ship. Clarisse is waving frantically, signalling to come on.
Tyson works his way around Polyphemus, trying to get behind him.
"Young one!" the older Cyclops calls. "Where are you? Help me!"
Tyson stops.
"You weren't raised right!" Polyphemus wails, shaking his olive tree club. "Poor orphaned brother! Help me!"
Tyson steps forward, raising his hands defensively. "Don't fight, Cyclops brother. Put down the—"
Polyphemus spins towards his voice.
"Tyson!" Percy shouts.
Tyson flys backwards as the tree is struck into him, plowing a trench in the sand.
Polyphemus charges after him, but Percy shouts, "No!" and lunges as far as he can with Riptide.
"Blaaaaah!" Polyphemus bleats just like his sheep and swings with his tree.
Percy dives, but gets raked across the back by a dozen jagged branches. He's bleeding, bruised, and exhausted.
Polyphemus swings the tree again, but this time Percy's ready.
He grabs a branch as it passes, ignoring the pain in his hands as he's jerked skyward, letting the Cyclops lift him into the air.
At the top of the arc, he lets go and falls straight against the giant's face—landing with both feet on his already damaged eye.
Polyphemus yowls in pain. Tyson tackles him, pulling him down. Percy lands next to them—sword in hand, within striking distance of the monster's heart. But he locks eyes with Tyson, and he knows he can't do it. It just isn't right.
"Let him go," he tells Tyson. "Run."
With one last mighty effort, Tyson pushes the cursing older Cyclops away, and they run for the surf.
"I will smash you.'" Polyphemus yells, doubling over in pain. His enormous hands cupping over his eye.
Tyson and Percy plunge into the waves.
"Where are you?" Polyphemus screams. He picks up his tree club and throws it into the water. It splashes off to the right.
Percy summons a current to carry them, and they start gaining speed.
He was beginning to think they might make it to the ship, when Clarisse shouts from the deck, "Yeah, Jackson! In your face, Cyclops!"
Shut up, he wants to yell.
"Rarrr!" Polyphemus picks up a boulder. He throws it towards the sound of Clarisse's voice, but it falls short, narrowly missing Tyson and Percy.
"Yeah, yeah!" Clarisse taunts. "You throw like a wimp! Teach you to try marrying me, you idiot!"
"Clarisse!" Percy yells, unable to stand it. "Shut up!"
Too late. Polyphemus throws another boulder, and this time Percy watches helplessly as it sails over and crashes through the hull of the Queen Anne's Revenge.
It creaks and groans and lists forward as if going down a playground slide.
Percy curses, willing the sea to push them faster, but the ship's masts are already going under.
"Dive!" He tells Tyson. And as another rock sails over their heads, they plunge underwater.
The group is sinking fast, trying to swim, without luck, in the bubbly trail of the ship's wreckage.
When a ship goes down, it acts like a sinkhole, pulling down everything around it.
Clarisse is a strong swimmer, but even she isn't making any progress.
Grover is frantically kicking with his hooves. Annabeth is hanging on to the fleece, which flashes in the water like a wave of new pennies, and Helia is determinedly gripping onto her, trying to aid the girl as much as she can.
Percy swims towards them, knowing that he might not have the strength to pull them out.
Worse, pieces of timber are swirling around them; none of his power with water will help if he gets whacked on the head by a beam.
We need help, he thinks.
"Yes." Tyson's voice, loud and clear in his head.
He looks over at him, startled. He'd heard Nereids and other water spirits speak underwater before, but it never occurred ... Tyson was a son of Poseidon. They could communicate with each other.
"Rainbow," Tyson says.
Percy nods, then closes his eyes and concentrates, adding his voice to Tyson's: "RAINBOW! We need you!"
Immediately, shapes shimmer in the darkness below—three horses with fish tails, galloping upward faster than dolphins.
Rainbow and his friends glance and seem to read their thoughts.
They whisk into the wreckage, and a moment later they burst upward in a cloud of bubbles—Grover, Annabeth, Helia, and Clarisse each clinging to the neck of a hippocampus.
Rainbow, the largest, has Clarisse. He races over and allows Tyson to grab hold of his mane. His friend, who bears Annabeth, does the same for Percy.
They break the surface of the water and race away from Polyphemus's island.
Behind them, they can hear the Cyclops roaring in triumph, "I did it! I finally sank Nobody!"
Percy hopes he never finds out he's wrong.
They skim across the sea as the island shrinks to a dot and then disappears.
"Did it," Annabeth mutters in exhaustion. "We ..."
She slumps against the neck of the hippocampus and instantly falls asleep.
"Percy!" Helia shouts, concerned. "Hold her up!"
He nods, propping her up and covering her in the Golden Fleece that they'd been through so much to get.
He then puts his own head against it, and before he knows it, he's asleep too.