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Chapter 46: Chapter 46

When you think "monster island," you think craggy rocks and bones scattered on the beach like the island of the Sirens.

The Cyclops's island was nothing like that. I mean, 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 fruit trees and white beaches. As we sailed toward the shore, Silena breathed in the sweet air. "The Fleece," she said.

I nodded. I couldn't see the Fleece yet, but I could feel its power. I could believe it would heal anything, even Thalia's poisoned tree. "Well we are about to save our camp and destroy this island."

Clarisse nodded her head. "It'll fade. Go back to what it would be normally, whatever that is."

I felt a little guilty about ruining this paradise, but I reminded myself we 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 the massive oak tree I'd seen in my dreams. Something gold glittered in its branches.

"This is too easy," I said. "We could just hike up there and take it?"

Clarisse's eyes narrowed. "There's supposed 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.

Clarisse and I exchanged looks.

"They're like piranhas," she said.

"Piranhas with wool." I snorted

We moored Leonidas on the back side of the island where the cliffs rose straight up a good two hundred feet. I figured 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. I hoped that Polyphemus did not also keep carnivorous mountain goats.

We rowed a lifeboat to the edge of the rocks and made our way up, very slowly. Clarisse went first because she was the better climber. Until I told her I could just shadow travel us all up on the cliff and she blushed as she grumbled about something dropping back into the ship as she and the others grabbed me as I wrapped the shadows around us and teleported ourselves over the top of the cliff.

The ledge we were standing on was narrower than I'd realized. It dropped off on the opposite side, and that's where the voice was coming from—right below us.

"You're a feisty one!" the deep voice bellowed.

"Challenge me!" A girls voice, no doubt about it. "Give me back my sword and I'll fight you!"

The monster roared with laughter.

Clarisse and I crept to the edge. We were right above the entrance of the Cyclops's cave.

Below us stood Polyphemus and Grover, still in his wedding dress. A girl 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 completed bridal train. "Oh, um, I'm not hungry right now, dear. Perhaps—"

"Did he say bride?" Clarisse laughed as she took out her phone. "I am so getting a picture of this."

"Did you say bride?" the girl demanded. "Who— Grover?"

Polyphemus glowered. "What 'Grover'?"

"The satyr!" she 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 the girl more clearly.

The Cyclops was an even more horrible sight than he had been in my dreams. Partly because his rancid smell was now up close and personal. Partly because he was dressed in his wedding outfit—a crude kilt and shoulder-wrap, stitched together from baby-blue tuxedoes, as if the he'd skinned an entire wedding party.

"What satyr?" asked Polyphemus. "Satyrs are good eating. You bring me a satyr?"

"No, you big idiot!" bellowed the girl. "That satyr! The one in the wedding dress!"

I wanted to wring Clarisse's neck, but it was too late. All I 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 many 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!"

I reached for my sword, but Clarisse 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. My heart hammered against my ribs. I figured I'd die if I charged.

But I couldn't let the monster kill Grover.

"Grilled satyr with mango chutney," Polyphemus mused. He looked back at the girl, 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 Atlas! 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.

The girl made a strangled sound. "Oh, no! You can't be serious. I'm not—"

Polyphemus plucked her off the rope like she was a ripe apple, and tossed her and Grover deep into the cave. "Make yourself comfortable! I come back at sundown for big event!"

Then the Cyclops whistled, and a mixed flock of goats 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, etc.

When the last sheep had waddled out, Polyphemus rolled a boulder in front of the doorway as easily as I would close a refrigerator door, shutting off the sound of the girl and Grover screaming inside.

"Mangos," Polyphemus grumbled to himself. "What are mangos?"

He strolled off down the mountain in his baby-blue groom's outfit, leaving us alone with a pot of boiling water and a six-ton boulder.

"Alright let's do this!" I replied walking to the boulder.

"Dude you got to be joking, that boulder is like six-tons!" Clarisse muttered. "It is way to hea-"

I cracked my knuckles as divine strength surged through my body as I grabbed the boulder and before I could move it, the dang thing shattered showing a shocked Grover who was huddled in the corner, trying to cut an angry daughter of Atlas bonds with a pair of safety scissors.

"Huh... I think I used to much strength." I muttered.


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