/ thálassa | pjo \

/ chapter sixteen | we have a rock fight \

edited. 

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 It would have been funny to see an oversized, one-eyed version of Shrek running down a mountain in a kilt if he didn't want to kill us with boulders bigger than the Big House back at Camp.

"You'd think he'd run out of rocks," Percy muttered beside me, just kinda staring at the incoming Cyclops mirthlessly.

"You'd think!" In my delirium, I laughed, rubbing a hand over my grimy forehead, "But nooooo."

He snickered at me, looking just as exhausted as I felt as Grover shouted, "Swim for it!"

Clarisse and Grover took off into the surf, taking a still-weak Annabeth and the now sopping-wet Golden Fleece with them.

But Polyphemus was not mad about the Fleece being stolen away or us escaping, but he was really pissed at Percy and I's brother.

"You, young Cyclops!" The monster bellowed–his single eye ablaze with anger. "Traitor to your kind!"

Tyson's body went rigid as he stopped in his spot–just feet in front of us.

Don't listen to him!" Percy begged him–grabbing onto his arms and pulling. "Come on."

I looked up into Tyson's eye, seeing the confusion and hurt.

He looked at me, and I shook my head. My voice was soft as I firmly told him, "He's a liar. You're no traitor."

My little brother pinched his lips, turning to face the bigger Cyclops with squared shoulders, "I am not a traitor."

"You serve mortals!" Polyphemus screamed at him–as if that would change Tyson's mind in the slightest. "Thieving humans!"

He threw another boulder in our direction, but Tyson swiped it out of the air like it was nothing, snapping back, "Not a traitor. And you are not my kind."

"Death or victory!" Polyphemus snarled as he charged into the water. He face-planted, though, his foot still injured, sending waves towards the three of us as Clarisse shouted, "Percy! Come on!"

Wiping salt water from my eyes, I turned–seeing that our friends were almost to the ship. My lips pinched before I spun back at the sound of Tyson saying, "Go. I will hold Big Ugly."

"No! He'll kill you." Percy retorted, his eyes wide with determination. "We'll fight him together."

"Yeah, Tyson, we're in this together," I reassured him.

He looked ready to cry at our indignation to stay and fight with him, but he nodded, "Together."

I drew Undertow, ignoring the heat that surged from the hilt and stood between my brothers, getting ready to fight.

Well–kinda. Honestly, my head was spinning, and my joints hurt as we watched the giant Cyclops reel his arm back, wielding another boulder.

One that he promptly chucked at us like a dodgeball in gym class.

Something overcame me again–just like it had back in the cave–and I watched as the boulder flew toward us in slow motion. As it flew–Polyphemus making a stupid face as he launched it and my brothers both looking a little startled–all I could hear was Ave Maria playing in my head. It was almost peaceful watching the death trap just soaring to send us to Tartarus–which, now that I am saying that, sounds really concerning.