ELIMINATE | Percy Jackson & Twilight Saga |

52 | NOBODY GETS THE FLEECE

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO | NOBODY GETS THE FLEECE

"Bad Polyphemus."

—

"I GOT NOBODY!" POLYPHEMUS GLOATED.

They crept to the cave entrance and saw the Cyclops, grinning wickedly, holding up empty air. The monster shook his fist, and a baseball cap fluttered to the ground. There was Annabeth, hanging upside down by her legs. Malia's heart stops in her chest as she silently panicks; sure, it would've been devastating to lose Clarisse, and Malia would surely shed a few tears. But losing Annabeth? You might as well kill her now.

"Hah!" the Cyclops said. "Nasty invisible girl! Already got feisty one for wife. Means you gotta be grilled with mango chutney!"

Annabeth struggled, but she looked dazed. She had a nasty cut on her forehead. Her eyes were glassy.

"I'll rush him," Percy whispered to Malia and Clarisse. "Our ship is around the back of the island. You and Grover—"

"No way," they said at the same time. Clarisse had armed herself with a highly collectible ram's-horn spear from the Cyclops's cave. Malia had her six inch dagger, and she looked fierce even while wearing furry Uggs on her feat instead of her regular trendy running shoes. Grover had found a sheep's thigh bone, which he didn't look too happy about, but he was gripping it like a club, ready to attack.

"We'll take him together," Clarisse growled.

"Yeah," Grover said. Then he blinked, like he couldn't believe he'd just agreed with Clarisse about something.

"All right," Malia said. "Attack plan Macedonia."

They nodded. They'd all taken the same training courses at Camp Half-Blood. They knew what Malia was talking about. They would sneak around either side and attack the Cyclops from the flanks while Percy and Malia worked together to hold his attention in the front. Probably what this meant was that they'd all die instead of just the children of Poseidon, but Malia was grateful for the help.

She hefted my dagger and shouted, "Hey, Ugly!"

The giant whirled toward me. "Another one? Who are you?"

"Put down my friend. I'm the one who insulted you."

"You are Nobody?" Polyphemus scoffs in disbelief, "both of you?"

"That's right, you smelly bucket of nose drool!" Percy shouted. It didn't sound quite as good as Annabeth's insults, but it was probably all he could think of. "We're Nobody and we're proud of it! Now, put her down and get over here. I want to stab your eye out again."

"RAAAR!" he bellowed.

The good news: he dropped Annabeth. The bad news: he dropped her headfirst onto the rocks, where she lay motionless as a rag doll. The other bad news: Polyphemus barreled toward the siblings, a thousand smelly pounds of Cyclops that they would have to fight with a very small sword and an even smaller dagger. At least both were sharpened.

"For Pan!" Grover rushed in from the right. He threw his sheep bone, which bounced harmlessly off the monster's forehead. Clarisse ran in from the left and set her spear against the ground just in time for the Cyclops to step on it. He wailed in pain, and Clarisse dove out of the way to avoid getting trampled. But the Cyclops just plucked out the shaft like a large splinter and kept advancing on two.