CHAPTER ELEVEN

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"I got Nobody!" Polyphemus gloated.

They crept to the cave entrance and saw the Cyclops, grinning wickedly, holding up empty air. The monster shook his fist, and a baseball cap fluttered to the ground. There was Annabeth, hanging upside down by her legs.

"Hah!" the Cyclops said. "Nasty invisible girl! Already got feisty one for wife. Means you gotta be grilled with mango chutney!"

Annabeth struggled, but she looked dazed. She had a nasty cut on her forehead. Her eyes were glassy.

"I'll rush him," Percy whispered to Sylvie. "You can show Grover and Clarisse to the ship—"

"No way," Sylvie, Clarisse, and Grover said at the same time. Sylvie was holding Halcyon and Cereal in either hand, Clarisse had armed herself with a highly collectible ram's-horn spear from the Cyclops cave, and Grover had found a sheep's thigh bone. The satyr didn't look too happy about it (and neither did Sylvie), but he was gripping it like a club, ready to attack.

"We'll take him together," Clarisse growled.

"Yeah," Grover said. Then he blinked, like he couldn't believe he'd just agreed with Clarisse about something.

Percy blinked too, shocked by for a different reason. He tried protesting, "But, guys—"

"Oh, come on, Fishstick," Sylvie's grin was a passable impression of his own smirk. "You think we're gonna let you do this alone?"

He deflated at Sylvie's words, gave into the offers of help.

"All right," he said. "Attack plan Macedonia."

They nodded. All four of them had taken the same training courses at Camp Half-Blood. Sylvie shockingly knew what he was talking about, and so did Clarisse and Grover. They would sneak around the other three sides of the Cyclops and attack while Percy held his attention in the front. Probably what this meant was that they'd all die instead of just Percy, but at least he had help.

Percy hefted his sword and shouted, "Hey, Ugly!"

The giant whirled toward me. "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!" Sylvie found herself grinning despite the tense nature of the situation at Percy's stupid insults. "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 bellowed.

The good news: he dropped Annabeth. The bad news: he dropped her headfirst onto the rocks, where she lay motionless as a rag doll.

The other bad news: Polyphemus barreled toward Percy, a thousand smelly pounds of Cyclops that he would have to fight with a very small sword.

"For Pan!" Grover rushed in from behind. He threw his sheep bone, which bounced harmlessly off the monster's ass. Sylvie and Clarisse ran in, together, from the right and left. Clarisse set her spear against the ground just in time for the Cyclops to step on it. He wailed in pain, and to make that pain worse, Sylvie backhanded Polyphemus's other foot with Cereal and chopped down with Halcyon. His big toe came flying off—take that for a spoil of war. Sylvie, gagging in disgust, was absolutely sure she wouldn't be taking it with her.

Clarisse dove out of the way to avoid getting trampled, but Sylvie was still caught up on the toe that just went flying past her. As the ground shook with the Cyclops's pained cry, Grover grabbed Sylvie and yanked her over to him.

Sylvie almost felt bad for what she did, but then Polyphemus recovered scarily quick. He just plucked out Clarisse's shaft like a large splinter and kept advancing on Percy.

Percy moved in with Riptide.

Toeless, the monster made a grab for him. Percy rolled aside and stabbed him in the thigh. Sylvie was hoping to see him disintegrate, but this monster was much too big and powerful.

"Get Annabeth!" he yelled at Grover. To Sylvie, "Make sure she's okay!"

Grover pulled Sylvie over. Sylvie picked up Annabeth's invisibility cap and Grover held Annabeth while Percy and Clarisse tried to keep Polyphemus distracted.

"Come on, Chase," Sylvie hissed, trying to hide the anxiety in her voice with forced impatience. "Wake up. Tell me I'm being stupid, or something."

Annabeth did not.

"Shit," cursed Grover. "We gotta move."

Sylvie quickly tucked Annabeth's Yankees hat in her back pocket so that she could hold her xiphe and kept Grover (and Annabeth) in her narrowed eyesight. She wasn't usually one to take on the "protector" role, but she didn't have a choice right now, did she? Sylvie's head kept whipping front and back, making sure they weren't about to be attacked by Polyphemus from behind.

Luckily or unluckily, the Cyclops was still battling with Percy and Clarisse. Sylvie was grateful, because her fellow demigods were alive, but not so grateful, because she kind of wished Polyphemus was just dead as a whole (sorry, dude).

Grover began crossing the bridge first, carrying Annabeth, and Sylvie was right behind so the three of them could run across. They knew there was man-eating sheep on the other side, but Sylvie and Grover decided that looked better than the Cyclops side of the chasm.

Sylvie risked another look behind herself—her eyebrows furrowed a little when she saw Percy and Clarisse falling back from battle, but she really didn't have time to get hung up on it now. Grover had just made it to the other side and was setting Annabeth down. Sylvie made it a few moments after.

"Sylvie! Use your dagger!" Percy's voice sounded like it was getting closer. "Let Grover use the other!"

The duo whipped their heads over to him, startled. Percy and Clarisse were booking it desperately for the bridge, too. Polyphemus was right behind. Sylvie's eyes widened a little, but she didn't waste any time. Somehow she understood what he was saying, so she nodded back. Sylvie was shoving Halcyon into Grover's possession and crouching next to one side of the bridge with Cereal.

As the two of them began sawing the ropes, Percy and Clarisse scrambled across the bridge. Unfortunately, the ropes were thicker than Sylvie expected. She and Grover had to speed up their hacking to try and cut them.

The strand Grover cut went snap! Sylvie told herself it was because he was holding the larger dagger, and totally not because Sylvie had weaker arms. For the sake of her already crumbling ego.

Polyphemus bounded after Percy and Clarisse, making the bridge sway wildly. Now that the first side of the bridge was cut, all the force pulled on Sylvie's side, making it even rougher to snap the rope. She predictably cursed at this.

By the time Percy and Clarisse dove for solid ground, the ropes were now half cut. Percy made a wild slash with his sword and cut the remaining ropes. Sylvie told herself it was because he had a sword compared to Sylvie's smaller dagger, and totally not because Sylvie had weaker arms for the sake of her crumbling ego.

The bridge fell away into the chasm, and the Cyclops howled... with delight, because he was standing right next to them.

"Failed!" he yelled gleefully. "Nobody failed!"

Sylvie, Clarisse, and Grover tried to charge him, but the monster swatted them aside like flies. Sylvie should have expected the failure on her part—this wasn't even self-deprecation, she just knew she was useless fighting with only one dagger.

Her despair swelled. Sylvie couldn't believe they'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. She looked so sad, and Percy...

Looked so angry.

He raised his sword and attacked, forgetting that he was hopelessly outmatched. Percy jabbed the Cyclops in the belly. When Polyphemus doubled over, Percy smacked the oaf in the nose with the hilt of his sword. He slashed and kicked and bashed, and Sylvie watched with shining eyes of awe. The next thing she knew, Polyphemus was sprawled on his back, dazed and groaning, and Percy was standing above him, the tip of his sword hovering over the Cyclops's eye.

Sylvie was sure she was having a heart attack.

"Uhhhhhhhh," Polyphemus groaned.

"Percy!" Grover gasped. "How did you—"

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

He began to sob, and something about it reminded Sylvie so much of Tyson that... she started to feel bad. All Percy had to do was strike Polyphemus once more to end it all, but somehow Sylvie was getting the feeling Percy was thinking the same thing as her. Because he wasn't advancing Polyphemus at all.

"Kill him!" Clarisse yelled. "What are you waiting for?"

"He's a Cyclops!" Grover warned. "Don't trust him!"

But it was Sylvie that Percy glanced at. The sad look in her doe-like brown eyes confirmed they were on the same wavelength. Her eyebrows were furrowed, only so, and Percy caved.

"We only want the Fleece," he told the monster. "Will you agree to let us take it?"

Clarisse shouted, "No! Kill him!"

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

"I'm going to step back slowly," Percy said. "One false move..."

Polyphemus nodded like he understood.

Percy stepped back, and—as fast as a cobra, Polyphemus smacked him to the edge of the cliff.

"Percy!" Sylvie yelled.

"Foolish mortal!" he bellowed, rising to his feet. "Take my Fleece? Ha! I eat you first."

He opened his enormous mouth, but then—

THUMP!

A rock the size of a basketball sailed into Polyphemus's throat—nothing but net. The Cyclops choked, trying to swallow the unexpected pill. He staggered backward, but there was no place to stagger. His heel slipped, the edge of the cliff crumbled, and the great Polyphemus made chicken wing motions that did nothing to help him fly as he tumbled into the chasm.

Sylvie turned.

Halfway down the path to the beach, standing completely unharmed in the midst of a flock of killer sheep, was an old friend.

"Bad Polyphemus," Tyson said. "Not all Cyclopes as nice as we look."

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Tyson gave them the short version: Rainbow the hippocampus—who'd apparently been following them 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 them, until Tyson caught the scent of sheep and found this island.

Sylvie wanted to hug the big guy, except he was standing in the middle of killer sheep.

"Tyson, thank the gods," Percy breathed. "Annabeth is hurt!"

"You thank the gods she is hurt?" he asked, puzzled.

She missed him so much.

"No!" Percy joined Sylvie in kneeling beside Annabeth. The gash on her forehead was horrible—her hairline was sticky with blood, and her skin was pale and clammy.

Sylvie, Percy, and Grover all exchanged nervous looks. Then an idea came to Sylvie. "Uh, hey Tyson. How's it been?"

"I missed you, Boots!"

"Yeah, thanks, buddy," Sylvie would've smiled if Annabeth wasn't dying before her eyes. She laughed, but it was a nervous thing. "Uh—Can you grab the Fleece for us?"

"Which one?" Tyson said, looking around at the hundred of sheep.

"In the tree!" Sylvie said. "The gold one!"

"Oh. Pretty. Yes."

Tyson lumbered over, careful not to step on the sheep. If anyone else had tried to approach the Fleece, they would've been eaten alive, but Tyson must've smelled like Polyphemus, because the flock didn't bother him at all. They just cuddled up to him and bleated affectionately, as though they expected to get sheep treats from the big wicker basket. Tyson reached up and lifted the Fleece off its branch. Immediately the leaves on the oak tree turned yellow. Tyson started wading back toward the demigods, but Sylvie yelled, "No time! Throw it!"

The gold ram skin sailed through the air like a glittering shag Frisbee. Sylvie grunted as it hit her in the face, knocking her back. It was heavier than she'd expected—sixty or seventy pounds of precious gold wool—like a weighted blanket.

Percy freed Sylvie from fur-like suffocation and spread the fleece over Annabeth. It covered everything but her face. Sylvie prayed to the gods Annabeth was okay...

Then—

The color returned to her face. Her eyelids fluttered open. The cut on her forehead began to close. She saw Grover and said weakly, "You're not... married?"

Grover grinned. "No. My friends talked me out of it."

"Annabeth," Percy said, "just lay still."

But despite their protests she sat up, and Sylvie noticed that the cut on her face was almost completely healed. She looked a lot better. In fact, she shimmered with health, as if someone had injected her with glitter.

"I guess shiny sheep coats suit you," Sylvie joked.

Annabeth said, "You're being stupid."

Only Grover understood why Sylvie exhaled in relief.

Meanwhile, Tyson was starting to have trouble with the sheep. "Down!" he told them as they tried to climb him, looking for food. A few were sniffing in their direction. "No, sheepies. This way! Come here!"

They heeded him, but it was obvious they were hungry, and they were starting to realize Tyson didn't have any treats for them. They wouldn't hold out forever with so much fresh meat nearby.

"We have to go," Percy said. "Our ship is..."

The Queen Anne's Revenge was a very long way away. The shortest route was across the chasm, and they'd just destroyed the only bridge. The only other possibility was through the sheep.

Percy called, "Tyson, 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 looked doubtful, but he whistled. "Come, sheepies! Um, people food this way!"

He jogged off into the meadow, the sheep in pursuit.

"Keep the Fleece around you," Grover told Annabeth. "Just in case you're not fully healed yet. Can you stand?"

She tried, but her face turned pale again. "Ohh. Not fully healed."

Clarisse dropped next to her and felt her chest, which made Annabeth gasp.

"Ribs broken," Clarisse said. "They're mending, but definitely broken."

"How can you tell?" Percy doubtfully asked.

Clarisse glared at him. "Because I've broken a few, runt! I'll have to carry her."

Then Clarisse picked up Annabeth like a sack of flour and lugged her down to the beach. Sylvie, Percy, and Grover followed.

As soon as they got to the edge of the water, Percy willed the Queen Anne's Revenge to raise anchor and come over. After a few anxious minutes, Sylvie saw the ship rounding the tip of the island.

"Incoming!" Tyson yelled. He was bounding down the path to join them, the sheep about fifty yards behind, bleating in frustration as their Cyclops friends ran away without feeding them.

"They probably won't follow us into the water," Percy told the others. "All we have to do is swim for the ship."

"With Annabeth like this?" Clarisse protested.

"We can do it," Percy insisted confidently. "Once we get to the ship, we're home free."

Sylvie pettily mumbled, "Easy for you to say."

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Sylvie's anxiety had foretold the future like a prophecy. They almost made it, but not quite.

The group was just wading past the entrance to the ravine when they saw Polyphemus—scraped up and bruised but still very much alive, his baby-blue wedding outfit in tatters—splashing toward them with a boulder in each hand.

"You'd think he'd run out of rocks," Sylvie groaned dejectedly.

"Swim for it!" Grover said.

He, Sylvie, and Clarisse plunged into the surf. Annabeth hung on to Clarisse's neck and tried to paddle with one hand, the wet Fleece weighing her down. Sylvie didn't even realize Percy wasn't with them, had stayed behind awaiting Tyson.

Not until Sylvie heard, "You, Young Cyclops! Traitor to your kind!"

Sylvie chanced a look behind. She saw how Polyphemus had his fiery attention on Tyson, but also, with fear stirring back up inside her, she spotted Percy desperately pleading with him.

"Don't listen to him!" Percy pleaded. "Come on!"

Sylvie didn't want to, but she had to keep swimming. Despite the misery she felt of Percy and Tyson straggling behind, she still had to make it to the ship. She continued kicking her feet and wading her arms. Clarisse and Grover were both struggling on either side of her—swimming with goat hooves and an injured girl covered in a weighted blanket probably weren't the easiest of circumstances.

An altercation willed on behind them:

"You serve mortals! Thieving humans!"

Thud!

"Not a traitor," that was Tyson's voice. "And you are not my kind."

"Death or victory!" Polyphemus bellowed, and it almost sounded like he was readying for battle.

Sylvie looked behind again. It sounded that way because he was.

"Percy!" Sylvie yelled worriedly. "Come on!"

They were almost to the ship with the Fleece. If Percy and Tyson had been with them, they could've sailed off instantly. Now Sylvie, Grover, Clarisse, and Annabeth had to scurry aboard, wait, and pray neither son of Poseidon were harmed any further.

"Go," Tyson was saying. "I will hold Big Ugly!"

Percy responded, "No! He'll kill you! We'll fight him together!"

That stupid, heroic, cute fucking bastard. Sylvie hated him.

No, a voice taunted. You don't.

Miserably, Sylvie agreed, No. I don't.

Another thud. A crashing of the sea. A twenty-foot wave surging up.

Sylvie continued swimming desperately as their voices argued in the distance. Grover and Clarisse were doing the same. The three of them and Annabeth were so close to the ship now.

"Destroy you!" Polyphemus spluttered. "Fleece stealer!"

Percy yelled, "You stole the Fleece! 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! Father Poseidon, curse this thief!"

"Poseidon won't curse me, you fucking idiot! I'm his son, too."

Sylvie heard a large SMASH as she reached the Queen Anne's Revenge. Clarisse and Sylvie hastily boarded the ship first. Grover was helping Annabeth do the same, transferring the injured girl up to Clarisse. Sylvie took this time to wave frantically at Percy when she caught him spare a glance their way. She hoped he got the message—Get the hell over here with Tyson, crazy!

Percy looked away to keep fighting, and Sylvie let out an agitated huff. Maybe Percy's fatal flaw was being a stubborn idiot. That would surely check out.

Regardless, Sylvie joined Clarisse in gently pulling Annabeth onto the ship. Sylvie set Annabeth down to lean against the mast as Grover climbed aboard after her. He handed Halcyon back to Sylvie, which she'd momentarily forgotten she even gave to him. When Sylvie curled her hand to a fist, it shifted back in the form of a fingerless, knitted glove. Meanwhile, Cereal was strapped back onto the golden armband Sylvie was keeping from Circe's island. She hated everything that went down there, but she had to admit, she finally had somewhere to safely hold onto Cereal. Took her four years, but she got there.

"Blaaaaah!" Polyphemus suddenly bleated like his sheep.

Sylvie turned her head over. Tyson had somehow ended up lying in a sandy trench. Percy looked furious again, charging madly at the Cyclops. He was bleeding and bruised, but still, he dove.

Polyphemus swung an olive tree like a club, but Percy grabbed a branch as it passed and let the Cyclops lift him into the air. At the top of the arc Percy let go and fell straight against the giant's face—landing with both feet on his already damaged eye.

The monster yowled in pain. Tyson tackled him, pulling him down. Percy landed next to them—sword in hand, within striking distance of the monster's heart. But once again, Percy couldn't make the final strike.

Sylvie saw Percy mumble something to his brother, it had Tyson pushing Polyphemus away. Together, they ran for the surf.

"I will smash you!" Polyphemus yelled, doubling over in pain. His enormous hands cupped over his eye.

Percy and Tyson plunged into the waves.

"Where are you?" Polyphemus screamed. He picked up his tree club and threw it into the water. It splashed off to their right.

Suddenly a current was summoned, giving Percy and Tyson added speed. Right when Sylvie had hope they'd make it to the ship, Clarisse shouted from the deck, "Yeah, Jackson! In your face, Cyclops!"

"Clarisse, no," Sylvie hissed quietly. "Please, gods, no."

"Rarrr!" Polyphemus picked up a boulder. He threw it toward the sound of Clarisse's voice, but it fell short, narrowly missing Percy and Tyson.

"Yeah, yeah!" Clarisse taunted. "You throw like a wimp! Teach you to try marrying me, you idiot!"

"Clarisse!" Sylvie and Percy yelled in unison, unable to stand it. Percy added, "Shut the fuck up!"

Too late. Polyphemus threw another boulder, and this time Sylvie watched helplessly as it crashed through the hull of the Queen Anne's Revenge.

Sylvie was knocked over quick by the force of which the ship shook. It sunk so scarily fast that Sylvie, Annabeth, Grover, and Clarisse were being thrown into the sea and—even worse—buried under the wreckage.

And then, Sylvie was drowning.

Not many people realize that when a ship went down, it acted like a sinkhole, pulling down everything around it. Sylvie kept trying to break through to the surface, but the water pulled her under and took all the air from her lungs.

The water stung her nose and her throat. The wetness of her clothes felt like phantom hands dragging her further into the depths. She couldn't breathe, and she wanted to find a source of air, but she was just drowning.

The dark started to seep in, and that once lucid part of Sylvie's mind had the nerve to be relieved. Because it hurt. Because she was scared. Because she just wanted all of it to stop, and she was so tired, and she couldn't fight. But she wanted to. She wanted so badly to breathe, because it was there, in that relief, that she found she was so terribly devastated by the thought of dying.

Right before Sylvie couldn't fight it anymore, moments before she caved and let the darkness overcome her, a white line blurred in her dying vision. Sylvie didn't understand what was happening. Was this an angel?

No, that was a childish thought—her young mind just trying to compensate for the horrors she was enduring before death.

And then Sylvie couldn't deny it. Something like a life preserver swooped under Sylvie. She was suddenly rising to the surface, quickly, before the lack of air could knock her out. Instinctively, Sylvie's arms wrapped around it.

When Sylvie came bursting to the surface, she was immediately gasping a large breath of air. She let it fill her lungs, let the black spots dissipate from her vision. The fog cleared, and it was then that Sylvie realized her savior had come in the form of a white sea stallion. A hippocampus.

Sylvie clung to the neck of the creature, still a little disoriented. But her hippocampus raced over to Percy and Tyson—along with three other hippocampi harboring Annabeth, Grover, and Clarisse—so it probably had to do something with them and their connection to Poseidon.

Rainbow had Clarisse and allowed Tyson to grab hold of his mane. His friend who bore Sylvie was signaling for Percy to climb on the back, or at least it seemed like it. Sylvie was far too tired to protest this notion—it wouldn't have mattered if she did anyways, because Percy was already mounted right behind her.

"Did you...?" Sylvie muttered in exhaustion.

"Yeah," Percy answered. He knew what Sylvie had been asking—it was him who called the hippocampus that just saved her life.

Instead of reacting to this, Sylvie slumped against the neck of the hippocampus and instantly fell asleep.

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BAILEY YAPS...

No one bring up how Sylvie probably wouldn't have been able to hear Percy, Tyson, and Polyphemus from far away Just call it movie magic and it's also Sylvie so we believe her

I love Tyson I love Tyson I love Tyson I think I cried or shat a little bit writing this chapter because I love Tyson Literally why haven't we been including him in the fake tweets that would be hilarious I love Tyson

Sylvie being able to chop off a Cyclops's toe then proceeding to fail at cutting a rope is honestly hysterical to me and just a perfect summarization of her character. Guys i actually love her to the most abnormal amount.

Percy not killing Polyphemus the first time he had a chance Bro really said Not arguing with a woman that has big brown eyes whatever you say beautiful

Grover, Annabeth, Sylvie, and Percy... GASP😮🐐🏛️🌊🌾