Prophesied Powder, PJO

2.8

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Chapter 19
Getting the Golden Fleece
or Die Trying!

Volume 2: The Sea of Monsters

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The Cyclops' island looked like a paradise, but the demigods had learned their lessons with Circe. It might have looked like a postcard at first glance, but the green fields and tropical trees were ruined by the reality that a cyclops was trying to murder their satyr friend.

As they sailed toward the shore, Annabeth breathed in the sweet air. "The Fleece," she said. They could not see the Fleece yet, but it had power unimaginable. This close to it, Pallas knew it must have had the power to heal Thalia's poisoned tree.

Percy nodded, "If we take it away, will the island die?"

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

In the meadow at the base of the ravine, several dozen sheep were milling around. They looked peaceful enough, but they were 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," Percy said. "We could just hike up there and take it?"

Annabeth's eyes narrowed. "There's supposed to be a guardian. A dragon or..."

"I despise dragons," Pallas picked an arrow from his golden quiver and studied it with a disinterested gaze.

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.

Annabeth, Percy, and Pallas exchanged looks.

Pallas regretfully chose to be the one who explained the ordeal to Pat, but he stopped talking halfway through saying the word sheep.

"They're like piranhas," Annabeth told Pat.

"Piranhas with wool," Percy added, "How will we—"

"Percy!" Annabeth gasped, grabbing his arm. "Look." She pointed down the beach, to just below the sheep meadow, where a small boat had been run aground, "The other lifeboat from the CSS Birmingham," She said, mostly for Pat's benefit.

Eventually, they decided that there was no way to get past the man-eating sheep. Annabeth wanted to sneak up the path invisibly and grab the Fleece, but in the end, all three of them 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 away to help.

Besides, our first job was to find Grover and whoever had come ashore in that lifeboat—assuming they'd gotten past the sheep.

They moored the Queen Anne's Revenge on the backside of the island where the cliffs rose straight up a good two hundred feet. Percy had 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.

"You want me to climb a two-hundred-foot cliff," Pat repeated the plan, a blunt expression on his face. Even without visible eyes, he had a very clear, dead stare on his face, annoyed and challenging. Asking them how stupid they were.