¹Pocket Full of Posies, p. jackson

xiii. Nobody Wins! (Sort Of)

chapter thirteen
❛ nobody wins! ❜

━━━━━  "I GOT NOBODY!" gloated Polyphemus, loudly cheering for his accomplishment.

The four still inside the Cyclops's cave quietly crept to the entrance, peeking around the stone entrance to spot the monster. He was grinning wickedly, holding up something that was invisible. He shook his fist aggressively, and a navy blue baseball cap fluttered to the ground — it was Annabeth's cap of invisibility. And there, hanging upside down from her legs, her feet caught in Polyphemus's large fist, was Annabeth.

Polyphemus laughed loudly, shaking the daughter of Athena. "Nasty invisible girl! Already got feisty one for wife. Means you gotta be roasted with mango chutney!"

As she dangled in mid-air, Annabeth struggled against Polyphemus's fist. She tried reaching towards her feet, her blonde braids dangling down like a backwards torch — but it was useless. She seemed too dazed, and Polyphemus was just too strong. She even had a nasty cut on her forehead, like she had tripped and taken a bad fall. Her grey eyes were glassy as she tried to fight.

As Percy crouched beside Posie, he whispered to the others, "I'll rush him. Our ship is around the back of the island. Posie, you can lead Clarisse and Grover —"

Clarisse, Posie, and Grover all snapped their heads over in one fell swoop. "No way," they told him insistently. Posie added, "We're not letting you deal with Polyphemus by yourself, Percy. Even Annabeth got caught. That would just be stupid."

The son of Poseidon gave her a dry look. "That's for instilling me with confidence, Posie."

She silently pursed her lips, biting back a sarcastic comment. It wasn't the time, even if she could feel the ball of anxiety in her stomach growing with every passing second. By then, Clarisse had armed herself with a highly collectible ram's-horn spear that Polyphemus had put up for display. Grover, too, had found a weapon (as close as the satyr would ever get to being violent) — a picked-clean sheep's thigh bone. He looked deeply upset with it, but held it up like a club, ready to attack.

Posie took a deep breath, trying to loosen the knot in her stomach. "We're not leaving you to deal with Polyphemus alone, Percy," she insisted, tightening her grip on Anthos and Arsis. "We take him as a group, okay?"

"And beat his ass while we're at it," Clarisse added helpfully, grinning slyly.

"Yeah," agreed Grover, nodding along adamantly. Then, he blinked, his mouth clamping shut, looking shocked that he had found anything that he could agree with Clarisse on.

Percy looked at them for a moment, then he nodded. "All right," he decided. "Attack plan, Macedonia."

Immediately, the others all nodded. They had all taken the same training courses at Camp Half-Blood. They were mandatory, even for the satyrs and nature spirits. In moments like these, Posie found herself suddenly grateful for Lee and that he was such a stickler for attendance. As the Macedonia attack plan was written, they would sneak around either side and ambush the Cyclops from the flanks, all the while, someone was keeping Polyphemus's attention to keep him as distracted as possible. (Knowing how these things normally go, the person distracting would more than likely be Posie or Percy; hopefully Percy and not Posie, even if she wouldn't say that to him.) All that meant was if things went wrong (and there was a high likelihood they would, they were all going to die instead of just Percy).

Percy hefted Riptide, loudly shouting, "Hey, ugly!"

Hearing the sudden voice, Polyphemus whirled around (with Annabeth still in his grip). "Another one?" he demanded, his milky eye narrowing in a slit. "Who are you?"