Direction. Or, more accurately, misdirection.

Obviously, I was sensitive to magic. I could see Mist when I wanted to, and I'd spent months learning to manipulate it. I could sense the magic and power in other people and creatures, and I'd been disturbed by the Sirens' magic even in sleep. It was no surprise, then, that I could feel the Fleece even before Percy and Annabeth.

It's hard to describe. It was a feeling that first reached the skin and then sank deeper. It was like lying in the grass on the sunniest day of the year, feeling the glow of my skin in its light. It was like that air around me was alive. Rather than being heavy and thick with power, the air had a certain quality of thinness. I felt rejuvenated. I felt powerful.

As we drew closer to the island, I also felt unnerved.

The Sea of Monsters was probably the book I remembered the least in terms of detail. It was kind of like the second Harry Potter book. I only reread it when I was going to read the whole series. So I didn't have the kind of plan that I probably should have. There just wasn't enough information, even in my notebook.

It's not that bad, I told myself. We arrive. We sneak in under the bellies of flesh-eating sheep. Grover is there. Annabeth pretends to be Nbdy. Somehow Polyphemus catches Annabeth but we beat him anyways. Somehow. Clarisse shows up sometime? She takes the Fleece.

A lot was missing.

Maybe not so simple.

It was hard not to be troubled, and not only because I didn't know how to make things better. I didn't even know what I could make better. I couldn't even remember enough to make sure I didn't change anything, or if that was even the best course of action. I was going to have to wing it, and that scared me.

I did feel a certain comfort. The power of the Fleece was uplifting, and I was pretty sure it could boost me a little bit. It also felt good to know that I had more in my arsenal that shotguns and Sight. Actually, it was probably a good thing my shotgun had disappeared in the first month of my stay at Circe's, because it wasn't going to come in handy here. Instead, I had magic. If I got really involved—and I'd have to, because it would look weird if I didn't—it would be my first time using my newly learned skills in combat. Circe didn't teach combat.

I wasn't excited for combat. I didn't miss it.

My eyes swept heavenward. The sky was littered with the same Toy Story clouds that had been in my dream, and a shiver went down my spine. There were gods, regrettably, and I was about to fight for them. Not for them, I told myself. For the other kids at camp. For Percy and Annabeth, and Nico and Bianca, and all the other kids in Cabin Eleven. I had no love for the gods, but I felt an obligation to the people I'd spent last summer with.

I didn't know how I'd face them, or even if I'd face them. It hadn't dawned on me until after our conversation, but Annabeth had mentioned my "travelling" as opposed to my going home. She knew I'd left camp and never returned to the parents she probably thought I had. And if she knew, so did the others. Word around camp spread fast. People would probably feel a little betrayed and confused. Even though Percy had taken up most of the spotlight after our return from the West Coast, being a party of the returning party from the first successful quest in years meant that people had a certain view of me. In their eyes, I was truly one of them, and I really did belong at camp; I was something for the others in Cabin Eleven in particular to aspire to, and in many ways, they probably felt that I had social obligations to them. Not to mention that people seemed to think I was going to take up some kind of mentorship of Nico and Bianca. That was frustrating, since as far as they knew I was barely older than Bianca, but it was what it was.

All that is to say that there was an expectation that I would be there. It was one thing if I left during the year to go home, but I was sure many of them had been unpleasantly surprised when I hadn't returned at the beginning of this summer. Or not. Maybe, like Annabeth, they'd all somehow figured out that I had left camp to go to some unknown elsewhere. Maybe they felt hurt. Maybe they felt let down. Maybe they thought less of me.

Maybe it would be best to split ways after we collected the Fleece, that way I didn't have to go back and face the music.

Deep down, though, I knew I didn't really have a choice. This winter, Artemis herself would go missing on a hunt for the Ophiotaurus. On the quest to find her, someone would die. Though my early retrieval of the di Angelo's from the casino meant that Bianca couldn't be recruited by the Hunters in the woods outside of the military academy, I still had an aching paranoia that it might be her. I had already caused both the di Angelos so much… well, trauma that her death was one thing I didn't want to passively allow. I needed to be back at camp to interfere.

That was some planning that needed to be done. But not now.

"This island," I said out loud. Percy and Annabeth jumped. They seemed to be feeling the effects of the Fleece themselves now. "Why are we here?"

Annabeth's eyes widened. "We didn't tell you."

"No," I said dryly. "I was too busy regaling you with the joys of my island."

Percy snorted at me and Annabeth nudged him in the arm. "I guess you don't know what's happening back at camp."

The borders are dying. "Actually, I've heard rumors," I admitted. "We get more traffic on the island than you'd probably expect. Monsters and immortals, mainly. Not the kind of folks who appreciate Camp Half-Blood or its alumni. Rumor has it on the grapevine that the magic protections around the camp were dissolved somehow."

Annabeth frowned. It wasn't just discontentment, but sadness. She was probably mourning her friend, Thalia, who seemed deader now than ever. "Not completely. But the Tree… it was poisoned. It's dying, and the protections around the camp are weakening along with it."

"That's why we're here," Percy explained. "We have to find the Golden Fleece. It'll heal the tree, and then camp should be secure again."

I made myself look skeptical. "That doesn't explain why you're all the way down here, though. If it's just the tree that's dying, couldn't you just strengthen the protections that existed before Thalia's tree? I mean, obviously everyone knows that this is a really dangerous place for people like us to travel. Aren't there… easier alternatives?"

Percy looked intrigued too, but Annabeth's lips were pursed. As usual, the answer came quickly to her. "Well, no. The original protections don't exist anymore. They were slightly weaker, and when Thalia's tree was first erected to strengthen protections around the camp, it became a part of those protections. It transformed them. And…" She looked sad again. "Even if they did, allowing the tree to die would be a slight to Thalia's father."

I secretly resented the fact that Zeus valued a tree (even one that did contain his daughter's dying soul) over the lives of a quest team of demigods, but it wasn't surprising. "And there's no other antidote?"

Percy shook his head. "Michael was telling me that his cabin have been working on it, but they don't even know what kind of poison Luke used."

Annabeth's face, pained, was turned away. "The Fleece is our best option."

"I guess," I admitted, sounding like someone voicing an obvious complaint. Which was exactly what I was doing, to be honest. "And the Fleece is here. I can feel it."

"Yeah," Percy agreed.

"So can I, Annabeth said.

"Which brings me to my question. Where exactly is here?"

The two of them made eye contact, probably because they knew how much they were going to freak out their cowardly friend. "The Cyclops' Island," Percy said finally.

I raised my eyebrows. "The Cyclop's Island?"

Percy cringed. "Yeah."

I looked to Annabeth. "It's here? How did you all figure out the Fleece would be here?"

They made eye contact again, and then began their story.

It was a good way for me to review what had already happened. I'd totally forgotten about the Gray Sisters and their coordinates, and about Tyson's death by explosion. That reminded me that, since he obviously wasn't dead and showed up in later books, he'd survived. In fact, I had a faint memory of him chucking rocks at Polyphemus, unless I was getting mixed up with the dodgeball battle at the beginning of the book. I already remembered Grover's upcoming wedding, so that was no surprise. Of course, I had to pretend it was.

"So that's why you really came out here," I accused, feeling more unnerved as we drew closer to the island.

Percy stared out at the horizon. "Getting the Fleece is important, too," he said, "but… this is Grover. I can't just leave him."

"I understand," I said quietly. "I'm sure we'll get him. And the Fleece."

"We will," Annabeth affirmed, sounding more certain than she probably was.

"Obviously we have to get Grover first," I said. "We won't be able to get the Fleece without beating the Cyclops anyways."

Percy nodded fervently.

One of the things I'd forgotten? That decision would be made for us anyways.

Even my interest as a once aspiring zookeeper couldn't stop me from feeling revolted by the sight of carnivorous sheep shredding a doe down to skin and bone in seconds. All the same, I couldn't look away. I wondered if they were monsters that would explode into the dust or actual animals that would bleed. They clearly still crazed, but would they have sharp canines, like other predatory mammals? Were their eyes positioned different on their heads to account for predatory behaviors? It was hard to tell at the distance.

"They're like piranhas," Annabeth said.

"Piranhas with wool. How will we—"

Before I could correct them both on their incorrect perception of aggression by piranhas, Annabeth let out a quiet gasp and grabbed us both by the wrists. "Look!" she ordered. She let go of me to point down the way at something that I had to squint at first to see. I was confused… and then I wasn't.

"What the hell is that?" I hissed.

It was a little lifeboat, weathered and beaten, laying right on top of the sand. Obviously it hadn't been there for long. No sand had washed over it. Clarisse was here. Had it happened that way in the book? It must have, but I didn't remember our Golden Duo encountering her this early in the game.

"It's from the CSS Birmingham," Annabeth said urgently. "Clarisse's ship."

Percy looked really hopeful, and I rejoiced that for once the world wasn't going to let him down. Tyson would show up, sometime.

"What? I thought you guys said the ship exploded while she was on board." I stared at the boat, then back at Annabeth. "She's dead!"

"Maybe," she said speculatively. "Maybe not."

"Wouldn't it make more sense for Percy's friend to survive?" I pointed out. "If Tyson is a Cyclops, it makes sense that he'd survive the heat of the explosion."

"But what about the force of the explosion?" Annabeth shot back. "He was in the engine room."

"There's a chance," Percy argued.

"Just like there's a chance that Clarisse was already rowing away when the explosion happened."

"So it sounds like both of them had a chance to get away," I interrupted. "But now isn't the time to argue about it. The Fleece is up there and so is Grover. We haven't got the time to waste."

Neither of them looked super happy with me, but they at least agreed enough to move on. The conversation quickly turned from our newfound third purpose for searching the island to how we were going to make it to the Cyclops's cave. It didn't take us too long to agree that the carnivorous sheep were to be avoided. It took a little longer for all of us to agree to anchor the ship unseen behind a massive cliff. That came with the benefit of being hidden, but the drawbacks of having to climb the cliff to have any success in reaching the island and a probable struggle in getting back there with Grover, Clarrise, and the Fleece. Still, in meant we would have no reason whatsoever to have any contact with Polyphemus's flock, so to me, it was a definite yes.

Predictably, the climb made me wish that I could use magic to stick my fingers to the cliffs Spider-Man style. Some places were slick with moss or algae, and there were seemingly perfect handholds that were actually loose rock. It had been a while since I did any heavy lifting, so I was a little behind Percy and Annabeth. In some ways that was fortunate: Percy ate sneaker. I didn't.

Then, when I finally reached the top, realized I wasn't going to die from overexertion, and caught my breath, I got to witness Clarisse's miraculous return from the dead. It actually came in the form of another near death experience. When I heard the Cyclops's unearthly growl, I felt certain for a moment that I was going to have a heart attack. "Motherfucker," I breathed. "It's him."

In spite of myself, I had a morbid desire to see the monster and lifted myself far enough off the ground to squirm towards the sound. It echoed off the cliff face opposite the one we'd just climbed even as he continued talking. "You're a feisty one," its gravelly, deep voice sounded. As I finally came close enough to the edge to see over, I heard Annabeth and Percy scrambling behind me. And what I saw… well, it wasn't a pretty sight.

Polyphemus has mottled, lumpy, ashy grey-pink skin. From the angle, I couldn't see his eye, but I could see that he was wearing some kind of ridiculous get-up made from what looked like disassembled tuxedos. It kind of looked like he'd raided a bridal shop just in time for prom season; I doubted the hideous pale blue would have passed at any other time. Either way, the sash and man-skirt ensemble was not a good look for this guy, even if it could pass for runway fashion.

That was Thing One. Thing Two was Clarrise, suspended by the ankles over a cauldron full of boiling water, like the Cyclops was planning on making the world's blandest cannibal soup. She was screaming her head off, but not for reasonable purposes, like expressing the fear than any person with a modicum of self preservation would have felt. "Challenge me! GIve me back my sword and I'll fight you!"

If it was anyone but Clarrise, I would have thought she was trying to annoy the monster into eating her instantly instead of steaming her alive like a package of Great Value frozen sweet corn, but instead I just thought, Idiot.

If it was anyone but Clarisse, and any circumstances but these exact circumstances, that might have been what happened. Unfortunately, there was a third factor to consider: Grover. I'd been so consumed with the spectacle of a raging Ares camper being slow-cooked over a pot that I'd overlooked him, standing just outside of the mouth of the cave. He also looked like he'd just escaped an impromptu trip to David's Bridal, and was covered head to hoof in white. If I hadn't known it was Grover, I wouldn't have known it was Grover, if you get what I mean. But there he was, in all his glory, relying on Clarisse not recognizing him in order to stay alive. It was the last scenario I'd even want to be in, ever. "Eat loudmouth girl now or wait for wedding feast? What does my bride think?"

Grover practically fell over his ridiculously long bridal train to escape the Cyclops's attention before finally squeaking out, "Oh, um, I'm not hungry right now, dear. Perhaps—"

"Did you say bride?" Clarisse yowled, spinning in place. "Who—Grover?"

"Christ on a stick," I groaned. "She's got all the smarts of a sack of bricks."

"Shut up," Annabeth muttered. "She has to shut up."

"Who's Grover?" Polyphemus said, sounding, in his anger, as if he'd been using stomach acid as mouthwash.

"The satyr!" she yelled back, as if Polyphemus was the stupid one. And, okay, he kind of was.

"Oh! The poor thing's brain is boiling from that hot water. Pull her down, dear!" Grover pleaded, probably more out of self preservation than effort to save Clarisse from her Gordon-Ramsey-unapproved fate.

"What satyr? Satyrs are good eating," Polyphemus commented. "You bring me a satyr?"

Next to me, Percy stiffened.

"No, you big idiot! That satyr! Grover! The one in the wedding dress!" Clarisse yelled.

In that moment, I had to ask myself How? How could a person possibly be that stupid? How could she possibly think giving Grover away was a good idea? How could she miss all the obvious hints? Was she that stupid, or was she really just a shitty person? Seeing this all unfold in front of me, her redemption arc in the last couple of books suddenly wasn't good enough. I hadn't been super close to Grover in this life, but I really hated her.

Because as soon as she said that, the Cyclops acted. In a surprising act of speed, the creature ripped the wedding veil off of Grover in such a manner that I was surprised he hadn't taken Grover's head off as well. The satyr cowered, but he was helpless. Polyphemus was already clued in, and unless we could work out some book-like miracles, Grover was doomed.

"I don't see very well," the monster fumed, muscles rippling with his visible anger. "Not since many years ago when the other hero stabbed me in the eye. but YOU'RE NO LADY CYCLOPS!" Once again, he aggressively tore at Grover's outfit. The wedding dress came off, and Grover seemed much smaller in a shit and jeans. He ducked away from the Cyclops's hands, and for once in her miserable life, Clarisse was quiet.

"Stop! Don't eat me raw!" Grover begged, his hands over his head. "I—I have a good recipe!"

There was movement at my side and Annabeth made a hushed noise. I looked over; Percy was in clear distress, but he was attentive again.

"Recipe?" Polyphemus echoed doubtfully.

"Oh, yes!" Grover agreed fervently, listing off an array of food-borne pathogens the Cyclops could theoretically contract by eating raw satyr. "I'll taste much better grilled over a slow fire. With mango-chutney! You could go get the mangos right now, down in the woods. I'll just wait here."

The monster was clearly entertaining the idea. "Grilled satyr with mango chutney." Then as an afterthought, he looked to Clarisse. "You a satyr, too?"

"Now, you overgrown pile of dung! I'm a daughter of Ares!" She trashed in her bonds. "Now untie me so I can rip your arms off!"

"Rip my arms off." The Cyclops was amused.

"And stuff them down your throat!"

I felt the bitter combination of schadenfreude and petty revenge was over me. Another part I forgot. "You got spunk," the Cyclops mused, looking more closely at Clarisse.

"Let me down!" she demanded.

I'm sure we all know that phenomenon where something happens and you just remember everything you've forgotten. Your English teacher walks in the classroom, for example, and you suddenly realize she's going to collect the five-page research paper you forgot to write. Your stomach sinks. It can't be real. In your head, you go over her late work policy. You tell yourself it'll all work out. You aren't going to fail the class.

That's exactly what I was going through, starting when Polyphemus grabbed Grover in one massive fist. I almost felt myself black out. I was kind of flashing back to watching The Odyssey freshman year of high school. The Cyclops would grab men just like that and toss them into his mouth like popcorn. But that's not what he did. Instead, he announced, "Have to graze sheep now. Wedding postponed until tonight. Then we'll eat satyr for the main course!"

Shit. It's Clarisse.

"But… you're still getting married? Who's the bride?" asked Grover meekly.

Clarisse, however, was quick on the uptake. "Oh no! You can't be serious! I'm not—"

Polyphemus similarly grabbed Clarisse. The rope was pulled taut and then made an odd snapping sound as he pulled her down. "Make yourself comfortable!" he joked cruelly as he tossed them callously into the cave. "I come back at sundown for big event!"

I'm sure they both would have come running out if they could, but Clarisse was still tied around the arms and the landing probably knocked the wind out of both of them. So even though he didn't shut them in right away, instead letting the goats and sheep run out, they stayed where they were, screaming out at him before he put a massive stone in the cave's opening. The sound of the rocks scraping together made me cringe, but not any more than the dawning realization of wow, I have to deal with this now.

The Cyclops sauntered away, leaving us all mortified. He muttered to himself, but I wasn't really listening.

"Can you move the rock?" Percy asked, nudging me with his foot.

I was shell-shocked too, but it was such a stupid question that for a second I didn't register that he was asking me.

"Amara!" he hissed.

"What the hell do you even mean?!" I snapped.

"With magic!" he said with equal fervor.

"Are you kidding me?" I exclaimed. gesturing at the rock as I glanced away from Polyphemus's retreat. "That thing weighs at least 10,000 pounds! I'm a witch, not an earthbender!"

"Would you two stop arguing?" Annabeth interrupted. "We have to get them out of there!"

You know the rest. Sort of.

We hopelessly tried to communicate with Grover and Clarisse through the rocks. It didn't work. We discussed strategies to move the rock, but they wouldn't have worked either. We debated, were frustrated, and felt generally hopeless. Because we knew that there was no leaving the island with both of the others and the Fleece, and there was no getting the others without Polyphemus himself opening the cave again. The problem was that once he did open the cave again, we'd have a very short amount of time to object to the ceremony and save Grover from his transformation into a gourmet meat dish. That meant we had to come up with a game plan, pronto.

Fortunately, we had Annabeth, daughter of the goddess of strategy, coming in clutch. It didn't take her long to draw a connection back to the original story of Odysseus, whose guile enabled him to escape the monster's cave with some of his men alive. He gave the creature a gift of fine wine from his ship, and when Polyphemus passed out from drunkenness, Odysseus and his men drove a hot stake into his eye. He let out an almighty wail, but when his brethren gathered around the closed mouth of his cave to help him, he'd exclaimed, "Nobody is killing me my fraud! Nobody is killing me by force!" 'Nobody', after all, was how Odysseus had introduced himself.

The next morning, Odysseus and his surviving men snuck out hanging from the bellies of sheep. That, we decided, was how the three of us could get into the cave.

In fact, most of Annabeth's plan was something of a spin-off from the hero of millenia before. Percy and I, she suggested, could hitch a ride on the sheep and get into the cave. There, we would loose Clarisse from her bonds and make our getaway. Meanwhile, she'd take on the role of Nobody, providing a distraction outside. Since she had an invisibility cap, she'd be able to conceal herself . No way would Polyphemus, who was almost blind, catch her.

I couldn't remember much in great detail, but I could remember one thing: that would backfire. "Sounds great," I said.

"We've got this," Percy agreed firmly.

"Except," I interrupted, "one thing."

Annabeth looked confused, but the situation was so serious that she wasn't mad. "What's that?"

I smirked in spite of my unease. "Direction."

Illusion, I'd learned on Circe's island, was the easiest form of magic. It was the kind of magic that Hazel somehow managed to master over the course of a single quest in the Heroes of Olympus series. It had taken longer than that for me to master it intentionally, but if I did say so myself, I was pretty good at it. Still, convincing a sheep that it was meandering into an open cave when it was actually standing still was a whole new and unique challenge.

Annabeth and I had chosen the largest ram we could find, that way it wasn't so incredibly awkward for us to be hanging off the belly of the same sheep. It was awkward anyways, but the sheep wasn't on the very of collapse and there was room for both of us. It was a good idea anyways. Still, the additional distraction of a second person was making things a little more complicated than they needed to be.

"It's moving," she muttered, then gagged at the sheep smell, which I was trying not to think about myself.

I turned my head toward the ground as much as I could. Hopefully Percy's sheep is already in there. "Relax," I breathed, quiet as possible. "He's just wandering aimlessly. The trick is to let him move but believe that his surroundings are different than they actually are. He's not going inside."

"If you're sure," she answered. "Can't you just do it to…?"

"He's more intelligent and faster than a sheep. It would be harder and too risky," I said. "Especially given what we're going to do." My heart was racing. I felt sick. "That's a lot of multitasking to be doing all at once."

"Okay," she said uncertainly. "When he's out of sight we'll let go of the sheep. You won't have to worry about it."

"Yeah," I agreed. "Just, you know, running. For my life."

She let out a quiet snort, and just then, we heard the monster's footsteps. "Einstein. Einstein! In, lazy mutton. You are not dinner today!" His roaring laughter was so loud up close, and I was getting really freaked out. If he batted at the ram and realized just how heavy it was, or if it rolled, it was game over. We were dead.

"Now!" I said.

Annabeth, close to me, was stiff with tension. Still, I heard her voice. "Hey, ugly!"

The sound of the Cyclops's movement stopped. "Einstein?" he said uncertainly. "Who said that?"

"Shit," I muttered softly.

"It didn't work?" Annabeth was quiet, but distressed.

"No," I said. "No. Let me try it again. If it doesn't work—"

"WHO SAID THAT?"

"putyourcaponandrun! Now!"

Annabeth exhaled. There was a scary, quiet moment. I concentrated. "Nobody!" she shouted.

The sheep meandered some more as I lost control, but I felt myself physically deflate with relief. Annabeth did the same. Because we both heard her voice, and so did Polyphemus. It just wasn't coming from the sheep.

Holy shit, I can't believe that worked, I thought to myself as I envisioned the hillside, sound flowing down like water. I tried to ignore Annabeth's presence next to me. She wasn't there. She wasn't her. She was Nobody, escaping a monster as she fled into the woods. Her voice, in theory, would follow her.

"Nobody!" Polyphemus screamed. His voice was muffled, like he wasn't facing us anymore, but I couldn't let myself get distracted with the feeling of safeness. "I remember you!"

"You're too stupid to remember anybody." Annabeth's voice sounded a little distant, and very confident. More confident than I was. "Much less Nobody."

There was a crash far away, but it was loud and horrible and the ground shook. I grunted and tried to refocus myself on the images and the sounds. The sheep bumbled, and the Mist was so thick that I almost felt that my hands were knotted in moss and not wool.

"You haven't learned to throw anymore, either!" Annabeth taunted the creature, whose footsteps, still thundering, were farther away. My body shook with effort. You can do this. You can fucking do this. She's there, not here. Make him believe it.

"Come here!" the creature roared. "Let me kill you, Nobody!"

Annabeth was fidgeting. I was losing control of the sheep, so I hoped she was getting her cap so we could part ways with Einstein. "You can't kill Nobody, you stupid oaf! Come find me!"

Or don't, I thought, doing my damndest to cast her voice farther away with every word. "Get down," I grunted as I let my feet drag on the ground. I landed hard. Annabeth, predictably, was invisible, but I could tell by the quiet sound she'd landed on her feet. "What else?" she asked, her voice floating in the air between us.

I was breathless, but since I wasn't also distracting the sheep now, too, I could actually see through the Mist to to Cyclops's retreating form down the hill. "Need to get to the hilltop," I gasped quietly. "So I can see his surroundings. I can cast your voice to trees and rocks—lure him into the forest—"

"Got it," she said firmly, grabbing me by the arm. "I'm going to shout for him. Now."

Since we were on the move, and the picture wasn't quite clear, I went for 'uncomplicated'. I sent her voice to a generic space between Polyphemus and the tree line. "What's the matter? Can't find me?" her voice called.

Polyphemus yowled. He grabbed one of a few moderately sized rocks and hurled it in the direction of the sound.

I nudged Annabeth, and she spoke again. I placed all my focus on one of those mango trees Grover had been talking about earlier. My head felt painful, but in the distance, I could see the tree itself drawing Mist from the environment as her voice flowed from its branches like a speaker. It was easier now that I was more focused and I wasn't multitasking, but I was losing steam. And eventually Polyphemus was going to realize he wasn't smelling Nobody or seeing even a blur of Nobody. I needed to buy us time. Get him deeper into the woods. And then we'd have to run for it.

Polyphemus yanked the tree up by the roots and swung it like a baseball bat, taking out a few more trees around him. But it didn't matter. 'Nobody' was twenty yards away, up another tree, calling him an ogre. He plowed down more trees. My vision grew slightly black around the edges, blurring into the thinning green of the Mist.

"One more time," I said, leaning against Annabeth. I was about to pass out, but at least she wasn't dying in the rocks.

"I don't know…" she said reluctantly, shaking me a little.

"One more time!" I insisted.

There was a pause. My direction was general once again, but for one last time, I directed the Mist to steal Annabeth's voice and place it in the distance. It was muffled, either because it came from the woods or because I was starting to black out. It was weird, I thought, being held by someone I couldn't see.

Polyphemus roared somewhere far away.

"Annabeth? Are you there?" Percy, whose voice was going closer. "I—wow. That worked."

"Is that—?" Clarisse.

"We don't have time right now!" My legs were jelly. Annabeth was pulling me. "We have—go—"

"Wait, guys," I said. Where's Tyson?

It must not have come out as clearly as I thought it did. "Is she okay?" said Grover, who sounded shocked to see me.

When did I close my eyes. "—got scared." It was Clarisse again, sounded less mean-spirited than usual for some reason. "Wake—punk."

A smack. Two people, supporting me from both sides. We were moving. Another roar.

Annabeth cursed. Her voice was in my ear. "Can—do it again?"

I groaned.

"—fight him," Clarisse suggested aggressively.

"Shut up," Percy said on my other side. "This—bridge. Hol—on."

"Wha?" my head lolled. Their voices were so quiet. Much quieter than the sound of the creature that seemed to have given up on the woods and remembered his bride in the cave. He was so loud, but I didn't care that much. I was too tired. I'd done as much as I could. I should have known better than to play with senses I hadn't practiced with much. Besides, I had more pressing fears. The bridge. I was well supported, but my feet dangled over open air. I remembered the chasm. The drop.

I fell asleep.

I don't have time to reply to reviews right now, but thank you so much for your overwhelming support on my last chapter. I appreciate you guys.