Theo, son of.... well he hasn't got a clue.
Theo may have never have know who was until one day a scrawny 12 year old by the name of Percy Jackson showed up on the borders of the only home half dead after killing the famous Minotaur.
That day cha...
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Chapter 21
We Go Boatin'
Percy POV
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Welcome back to another Percy POV, peeps, back by popular demand. I'm just kidding; the only reason I'm here is that Theo's asleep, and the following 2 thousand words are critical to the storyline, so I'll be talking about them.
Now Tyson may be 'lesser minded' than the rest of us, but he still knew I wanted to go on a trip, and Tantalus wouldn't let me.
"You will go anyway?" he asked.
"I don't know," I admitted. "It would be hard. Very hard."
"I will help."
"No. I—uh, I couldn't ask you to do that, big guy. Too dangerous."
Tyson looked down at the pieces of metal he was assembling in his lap—springs, gears, and tiny wires. Beckendorf had given him some tools and spare parts, and now Tyson spent every night tinkering, though I wasn't sure how his huge hands could handle such delicate little pieces.
"What are you building?" I asked. Tyson didn't answer. Instead, he made a whimpering sound in the back of his throat.
"Annabeth doesn't like Cyclopes. You...don't want me along?"
"Oh, that's not it," I said halfheartedly. "Annabeth likes you. Really."
He had tears in the corners of his eye. I remembered that Grover, like all satyrs, could read human emotions. I wondered if Cyclopes had the same ability.
Tyson folded up his tinkering project in an oilcloth. He lay down on his bunk bed and hugged his bundle like a teddy bear. When he turned toward the wall, I could see the weird scars on his back, like somebody had ploughed over him with a tractor.
I wondered for the millionth time how he'd gotten hurt. Whatever or whoever it was must have been super powerful to overcome Tyson.
