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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. 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 they sailed toward the shore, Annabeth breathed in the sweet air. "The Fleece," she said.
Percy nodded. Marlowe couldn't see the Fleece yet, but she could feel its power. She could believe it would heal anything, even Thalia's poisoned tree. Scratch that, she knew it could heal anything.
"If we take it away, will the island die?" Percy asked.
Annabeth shook her head. "It'll fade. Go back to what it would be normally, whatever that is."
"Balance would be restored," Marlowe said, her eyes taking in the view around her. It was much more grand than the books could ever describe. "The Fleece would finally be used for something worthy."
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 a massive oak tree with 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 be a guardian. A dragon or..."
"Piranha-like sheep," Marlowe suggested. She watched as a deer emerged from the bushes and pointed over for the others to see.
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.
"Piranhas with wool," Percy gulped. "Great. How will we—"
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.
They decided there was no way they could get past the man-eating sheep. Annabeth wanted to sneak up the path invisibly and grab the Fleece, but in the end Marlowe convinced her that something would go wrong.
They moored the Queen Anne's Revenge on the back side of the island where the cliffs rose straight up a good two hundred feet. The cliffs looked climbable, barely—about as difficult as the lava wall back at camp. At least it was free of sheep.
