Chapter 63

Percy's Point of View

To say that Tantalus was being fair would be like comparing Mr D to a sober man. He refused to listen to any form of reasoning, raising Clarisse up high for finishing the race, and scorning us for saving the camp. We gave up after the first "Be quiet, boy!", recognising the tone of a man who doesn't intend to listen to what he was being told. Annabeth and Luna persisted a little longer, but soon they gave up too.

"Do you know what I think naughty misbehaving children deserve? Kitchen duty. You two are hereby sentenced to wash up for a week. That is, if your hands survive the first day." Tantalus laughed coldly, sending shivers down our spine. Feeling them, Alyssa decided to raise her head from where she had been wrapped around our waist for warmth.

$What is going on?$ She hissed, narrowing her eyes at a now quivering Tantalus. I smirked, and ran a hand gently down her spine, but didn't prevent her from slivering down our body to inspect the horrible man. She flicked her tongue at Tantalus, scenting him. She hissed, horrified at his scent. Idly I wondered if he still smelt like the Fields of Punishment, or whether that smell faded faster than his curse.

$Don't worry. Tantalus is just a bully. We'll deal with him later, yeah?$

"Y-you!" Tantalus was quivering now, "th-that's a basilisk! How... how aren't you melting? How are you still alive?!"

"What? Alyssa darling wouldn't hurt us. She's a magical familiar. Apparently as they mature, problems such as acidic skin become less of a problem." I grinned. "But with the dishes... you didn't say we couldn't use our "powers" did you?"

"No." Tantalus smirked again. "Not that your water skills would help you much anyway, mini Poseidon."

I gritted our teeth, but didn't reply. We'd heard the rumours of what the harpies used to clean the dishes. Guesses ranged from normal soap to acid to lava... We weren't sure, but if I had to guess based off Tantalus' large smirk it would be lava. After all, he was suggesting it had nothing to do with a water based substance.

Alyssa hissed, not liking Tantalus' expression.

$Please, Harry and Percy. Make me fully sized again! I'll kill the hatchling tormentor. Who does he think he is?$

I chucked. 'Tempting. Very tempting. Please Harry?'

'No!' Harry shook our head. $Sorry Alyssa. Mr.D will kill you if you harm a single hair on his head, and unless you have a track free record we're unlikely to be able to keep you.$

Alyssa let out a disappointed hiss, but argued no further, returning to us and settling herself around our shoulders. I smiled at her, feeling just as put out. I knew Harry had a point – my brother always did. But why couldn't the fun option also be the reasonable option for once?

Tantalus, looking really put off by our hissing, dismissed us. Annabeth and Luna looked furious.

"Did you see his face? That smug child-killer! We had done absolutely nothing! In fact, we saved his sorry life! And he punishes us with kitchen duty!"

"Why exactly is that the worst punishment camp offers? I mean, we've heard the rumours but I would have thought something like cleaning out the stable or washing the toilets with a toothbrush would have been far worse." Harry spoke softly, aware of Annabeth's sharp temper. Our friend took in a breath, then released it slowly. Even for her, that outburst had been extreme.

When Harry's words sunk in, Annabeth burst out laughing. "Washing the toilets with a toothbrush? Are you serious?"

I nodded sincerely. That was, without a doubt, the worst detention we'd ever had to deal with. Overseen by Filch, of course. Who else would set such manual labour? Apart from our godfather on a bad day, of course.

Mucking out the stables had been a punishment set by the Potter House elves after we'd accidentally fallen asleep in the forest near full moon when we were seven. That had taken us most of the day, because even with the amount of exercise I like doing, shifting wheelbarrows of heavy manure was a draining task.

"Washing up duty involves washing up just under one hundred dishes, along with all the pots and pans that were used to make dinner. Split two ways... we might just make curfew if we skip dessert." Annabeth sighed. "Prepare yourself for a long night."

Before we could discuss the matter further Tyson found us. The energetic boy begged a tour of camp. Pushing all other thoughts aside (namely our punishment, Thalia's tree and our strange recurring dreams of Grover that we had been worrying over for a while now) we led our younger half-brother around, pointing out the cabins, the basketball court, the lake, the forge, the lava climbing wall... the works, you know.

We spent the afternoon at the forge – it had been the last stop on Tyson's little tour, and he had wanted to make something. Remembering that Cyclops were the workers in Poseidon's underwater forge, I supposed it was in his blood. Beckendorf gave us a tutorial on sword making while we were there as well, so we supposed it certainly hadn't been a wasted afternoon.

That evening we began our punishment. It took us a few attempts to remember the spell, but we soon had a heat-protective spell protecting our skin and were able to dive into the mountains of dishes. Harry remembered reading a spell to get the dishes to wash and dry themselves, but he couldn't remember what the actual spell or wand movement was and we had no idea whether it worked with lava as well, so we voted this the next best option.

The Hecate kids, undoubtedly sensing some magic going on, peered round the door at one point, grinning when they noticed how we had dealt with our problem. They also asked if we'd play a game of their odd Quidditch, we agreed to. Well. Harry agreed to, I just nodded and went along with it.

As we washed the dishes, we talked to Annabeth and Luna about our dreams.

"We've been dreaming of Grover recently." Harry brought up the topic, knowing that it must be important no matter how inconsequential it may have been. "It's nothing huge. Just... small things, you know? Some of it seems like nonsense. Sometimes he tells us stupid things like 'he likes sheep', but more often than not we just get glimpses of a cave, or these huge sheep."

Luna focused her gaze on us. She wasn't judging us – Luna wouldn't do that – and after we'd told them the details of our first dream she knew we wouldn't make this up.

We washed in silence for a little while as we all thought it over. There was something familiar in our dreams that was on the tip of our tongue, we just didn't know what. In the end we just promised to inform them on any other dreams we had, and both wearily left the wash-hut, leaving behind huge piles of clean, tidily stacked dishes as we escaped to bed.

Tyson was already sound asleep in his hammock when Harry and I crept quietly into our cabin. He was clutching at something wrapped in a pit of cloth, and smiling brightly in his sleep. I couldn't help but smile indulgently at him. Despite his monstrous appearance, Tyson was a softy at heart, it wasn't hard to see.

Careful not to wake our half-brother, I quietly changed into our pyjamas and all but fell into our hammock, asleep almost as soon as our head hit the pillow.

A restful sleep apparently wasn't on the agenda tonight. We were swept up into a dream that was as bizarre as it was scary.

We were in a cave

Grover was, naturally, in a wedding dress. It didn't fit him very well. The previous white hem trailed on the ground behind him and was caked in mud. The lacy neckline kept falling off his shoulders, but what skin it might have revealed was covered by the tatty veil he wore to conceal his face.

Behind him we could see the harsh rocky walls of a cave, illuminated by a few sparsely placed torches. A wooden cot with a straw mattress stood in one corner, and across from it was an old fashioned loom and a three legged stool. A length of white cloth was strung up on the loom, with more spun cotton in a basket beside it, waiting to be woven into the cloth.

Grover stared at us, his eyes wide with delight like a child who had finally managed to get that one chocolate frog card they had been searching for. "Oh, thank the merciful gods! Can you hear me?"

Our brain heavy with sleep, we were slow to respond. I was still looking around the cave, taking in the sharp stalactites hanging from the ceiling, and the heavy stench of livestock in the air. The smell of damp goats and sheep in particular, we could hear them bleating as the sound echoed around the cave. A huge boulder, the size of a night bus, blocked the "room's" only exit, suggesting there was a larger cavern beyond it.

"Percy! Harry!" Grover groaned. "Please. I can't project any better. You have to hear me!"

"What?" I glanced back to him. "Project what?"

Grover opened his mouth to reply, but before he had the chance a monstrous, familiar voice bellowed from behind the boulder. "Honeypie! Have you finished yet?"

Grover flinched, a terrified expression crossing his face. He put on a falsetto voice and called back, "Not quite, dearest! A few days more!"

Clearly the voice was unimpressed. "Bah! It's been two weeks already, hasn't it?"

"N-no dearest. Just five days. That leaves twelve left."

There was a moment of silence, and we could almost hear the voice trying to mentally work out the maths. However his arithmetic couldn't have been much above the qualities' of a five year olds, because he agreed. "All right, but hurry! That veil has to come off soon! Hah!"

Grover, his face still pale, turned back to us. "Help me! I don't have time! I'm stuck in this cave. On an island near the sea."

Harry gave him a serious look. "Thanks. Those are such absolutely brilliant directions."

"I don't know exactly where! I went to Florida and turned left."

I giggled as Harry gave him a really disappointed look. Grover, looked desperate, however, and apologetic; Grover knew he was asking the impossible, and he really didn't know any better directions.

"Look, it's a trap! This is why no satyr has ever returned from this quest! He's a shepherd, and he had it. Seriously, the nature magic is so powerful it smells like the great god Pan! Us satyrs come here thinking we've found him, but then they get trapped and eaten by Polyphemus!"

"Poly-who?"

The name was familiar, but I couldn't place it.

'The cyclops. From Odysseus travels?' Harry knew. Of course he did.

Grover ignored me. "I almost got away. I made it to St. Augustine."

We recognised that name. "But he followed you. I presume the dress is from that bridal boutique?"

"That's right!" Grover looked delighted. "My first empathy link must have worked then. I swear, this dress is the only thing that's keeping me alive. He thinks I smell good, I've had to pass it off as goat-scented perfume. The dress and his bad eye – it's still half-blind from the last time someone poked it out – are literally all that's stopping him from realising what I am. But even that's not going to work. He gave me two weeks to finish the bridal train and he's getting impatient!"

I burst out laughing. "Let me get this straight, this Cyclops thinks you're some lady Cyclops and wants to marry you?"

Grover nodded, and the dead serious expression on his face had me stop dead. "Hades. We'll come rescue you. We promise. Where are you?"

"Where else?" Grover gave us another helpless look. "The Sea of Monsters."

Harry nodded. 'We'll look it up later.'

"Look, guys... I'm really sorry about this. The empathy link... I didn't have a choice. Our emotions are connected now, so if I die..."

"Let me guess, we die too?" I took the morbid route.

"There's a chance you won't." Grover looked really apologetic. "You might still live for years in a vegetative state. But um... Getting me out of here would be a lot better."

"Honeypie!" Polyphemus bellowed. Did he even have an inside voice? "Dinner! Yummy yummy sheep meat!"

Grover whimpered. "Hurry! I have to go."

"Wait!" Something he said suddenly struck me. "You said 'it' was here. What's it?"

But the dream was already fading, and we hardly heard his last words. "Please don't let me die!"

We woke with a start, and fell out of our hammock, all tangled up in our blanket as we hurried to find Annabeth and Luna. Luckily it was already morning, and they were already on route to find us for the morning rounds.

"We had another dream."

A quick explanation later and Annabeth looked quite impressed.

"He found it!"

'Found what?' I grumped. 'Stupid Americans being so cryptic.'

Harry chuckled at me. 'But we British are always their villains, aren't we? They must have some fun, mustn't they?'

'Maybe...'

Harry took pity on me and interrupted Annabeth's mutterings. "Found what, exactly?"

She looked up, surprised. "The Golden Fleece, of course."

'Of course. What else could their possibly in the entirety of Greek Mythology.' I said sarcastically to Harry, who grinned.

"Brilliant. That could –"

"– save Thalia's tree!"

The duo grinned at each other. I sighed, and could practically hear Luna doing the same as our twin-souls had their little geek session. After a few minutes of self-appreciation (as I liked to call their mutual "I-know-all-this-amazingly-useful-but-normally-useless-stuff" moments) Annabeth and Luna recalled our Cabin-check duty, and we got to work.

Annabeth kindly let us wake up Tyson, and left our cabin till last as we'd been in such a rush to find her this morning. As such, we went in reverse order, picking up Leo along the way and finally ending with our cabin to bring Tyson to the breakfast pavilion.

Surprisingly as we ate it was Clarisse – who still looked a bit battered up from the attack yesterday – who brought up the situation of the failing borders and Thalia's tree. Well, it was only really initially surprising. Clarisse was afterall best known for roughing up the newbies and her cabin's ruthlessness in the war games, despite her strong sense of duty and loyalty to the camp.

"We need to address the situation of the weakening borders." She said, standing up and looking directly at Mr D. "Large numbers of Demigods was manageable under the protection of the borders, but as they're failing monsters are being drawn in larger numbers every day."

"Oh?" Mr D looked unimpressed. "So what do you suggest we do about it?"

Annabeth stood up this time. "We need to find a certain magical artefact – the Golden Fleece. We believe it to be located within the Sea of Monsters."

Tantalus smirked at her input to the conversation. The son of a Cerberus was definitely against anything to help us, we could just tell. "And, Little Miss Athena, how do you expect to find it? The Sea of Monsters is a vast area. You'd need to be a little bit more precise than that."

They ducked their head, glancing our way for help. I was stuck, desperately trying to think how to give more precise instructions, especially with the best information Grover having given us being "I went to Florida and turned left". Tyson tugged at our sleeve and we glanced down with a smile, if a little forced.

"Mommy said to remind you of some coordinates. I just remembered. She said you'd need them." Tyson began searching his pockets for something. Then it clicked, and I remembered.

"Thirty, thirty-one, seventy-five, twelve."

Every head turned towards us as I spoke. Tantalus sneer grew.

"Thank you for those meaningless numbers. Care to elaborate, boy?"

"They're coordinates. Thirty degrees, thirty-one minutes North, seventy-five degrees, twelve minutes West. The Grey Ladies gave them to us. They're the coordinates of Polyphemus' island, where the Golden Fleece is." I gave him my best Draco smirk, much to Harry's amusement.

Tantalus looked lost for words, and he glared at us for a moment before speaking once more. "You can't seriously be suggesting I send a quest based on such –"

A steady chant grew up, growing louder and louder the more Tantalus protested. "Quest! Quest! Quest! QUEST! QUEST!"

Finally, with a slight prompt from Mr D, Tantalus gave in. "Alright! Alright! I'll give you your quest! And I know the perfect hero to lead it!"

He waited, holding us all in suspense before a horrible smile stretched across his face. "Clarisse!"

I won't deny that we weren't disappointed by his choice. But arguing with that twisted man wasn't going to work. All we could hope would be to convince Clarisse or, that failing, set out on a quest alone to save our friend. We weren't going to risk Grover's life, not for the world.

The entirety of the campers followed Clarisse to the big house for her audience with the Oracle. We all stopped at the doors, and waited anxiously for her to come out again. When she did she was pale and worried looking. We bit our lip.

Prophecies often weren't all they first appeared to be, but that didn't make them any easier to bear when hearing them the first time. Putting on a brave face, Clarisse raised a fist into the air. "We have a quest!"

Sorry for the wait. This chapter took a while to type and edit :/ 

I may not be able to update for a while - my AS exams start in a few weeks, so it  might not be until the end of June. But I will be back! :)

Until then,

Smartiepants :)