Chapter 12: HOW TO TRAUMATIZE A BABY CYCLOPS
You ever have one of those moments where your brain just straight-up refuses to process what's happening?
Like, one second you're gearing up to fight an actual sea monster, ready to throw hands with something that could snap a battleship in half—
—And then the monster opens its mouth and says, "Brother?"
Yeah. That's what just happened.
The Birmingham rocked in the waves as we all just…stared at the massive figure in front of us.
A Cyclops.
A very wet, very pathetic-looking Cyclops.
Standing on what could generously be described as a raft, but was actually just a bunch of wooden planks nailed together with sheer optimism.
And Percy, standing right next to me, was looking at him like he'd just been punched in the soul.
"…Tyson?" Percy said, voice cracking.
The Cyclops beamed. "Brother!"
He jumped—like, just launched himself off his weird little raft like an excited puppy. A puppy the size of a minivan.
SPLASH.
The entire ship rocked. Grover bleated in terror and tried to grab the nearest solid object, which unfortunately happened to be me.
I peeled him off. "Dude. Personal space."
Annabeth, meanwhile, was holding her head in absolute despair. "No. No, no, no. This is not happening."
Clarisse looked just as horrified. "You left him at camp!" she shouted at Percy. "Why is he here?!"
Percy, who still looked like he was suffering from extreme emotional whiplash, shook his head. "I—I don't know?! Tyson, what are you doing here?"
Tyson surfaced, grabbing onto the ship's railing with a death grip like it was the only thing keeping him from drowning.
"I come help!" he said proudly. "Clarisse no trust Tyson. But Tyson good helper!"
Clarisse groaned like she was actually dying. "You built a raft and followed us through the Sea of Monsters?"
Tyson nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! But—" His face scrunched up. "Bad time. Very bad time."
I raised an eyebrow. "Define 'bad time.'"
Tyson shuddered.
"Underwater bad," he whispered, voice filled with the kind of haunted, war-torn exhaustion of someone who had seen some things. "Very scary. Many teeth."
Annabeth blinked. "Wait. Are you telling me—"
Tyson nodded solemnly.
"Tyson…afraid of ocean."
Silence.
I let that sink in for a second.
This was a Cyclops.
A literal son of Poseidon.
And he was afraid of the ocean.
I did the only logical thing in this situation.
I lost it.
I cackled, bending over as my entire body shook with laughter. "Oh, that's rich. That's fantastic. Percy, man, your half-brother is a sea god's kid who's scared of the sea."
Percy, to his credit, looked just as done with life as usual. "Lionel, this is not funny."
I wiped a tear from my eye. "Oh, it absolutely is."
Tyson, meanwhile, was still clutching the railing like he was seconds away from being dragged back into the abyss.
"I see big fish," he said gravely. "Big scary fish."
Grover whimpered. "Like…how big?"
Tyson held his hands apart.
Then moved them wider.
Then kept going until his arms were practically spread eagle.
Grover made a sound like a balloon deflating.
Clarisse pinched the bridge of her nose. "Great. Just great. Not only are we lost in the middle of the Sea of Monsters, but now we've got a Cyclops hitchhiker with ocean trauma."
Tyson perked up. "Oh! But I fix problem!"
We all stared at him.
"Uh-huh," I said. "And how exactly do you plan on fixing this, big guy?"
Tyson smiled.
Then pointed over his shoulder.
"At my raft!"
We all turned to look.
At the raft.
Or at least, what used to be a raft.
Because what we saw was a rapidly sinking pile of driftwood, disappearing into the sea like it was finally giving up on life.
There was a very long pause.
"…Tyson," Percy said carefully. "Your raft is gone."
Tyson frowned. "Oh."
We all just stood there as the remains of Tyson's handmade death-trap were swallowed by the waves.
Then he turned back to us, still smiling like a golden retriever. "Can I stay with you now?"
I had never seen Annabeth come so close to just straight-up throwing herself overboard.
We were gathered around the ship's deck, trying to figure out what to do next.
Annabeth had taken one look at Tyson sitting happily in the corner and just buried her face in her hands.
"Percy," she mumbled, voice muffled. "You cannot be serious."
Percy sighed. "Annabeth—"
"He followed us, Percy."
"I know—"
"Through the Sea of Monsters."
"Yes—"
"On a raft."
"I know."
She pulled at her hair. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?! How impossible it should be for him to even survive that long?!"
Tyson grinned. "Tyson strong!"
I pointed at him. "Can't argue with that logic."
Clarisse just grumbled something under her breath and crossed her arms. "Doesn't matter. We're still lost."
"Not lost!" Tyson said.
Annabeth glared at him. "Oh? And what, pray tell, is your master plan?"
Tyson beamed. "We go that way!"
He pointed in a completely random direction.
Annabeth groaned.
I patted Tyson's shoulder. "I like it. Good strategy."
Annabeth looked like she wanted to murder me.
Percy sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Look, as much as I love how much of a disaster this has become, we need an actual plan. Annabeth, do we at least sort of know where we are?"
She scowled but pulled out the map. "We're somewhere past Charybdis. If Polyphemus' island is still where it was in the myths, we should be—"
BOOM.
The entire ship lurched again.
Grover screamed again.
I clutched the railing, already so done with this day. "OH, COME ON."
Clarisse unsheathed her electric spear. "What now?!"
Tyson yelped and scrambled behind Percy.
A deep, guttural growl filled the air.
I turned my head.
And I immediately regretted it.
Because looming in the mist, rising from the water like some kind of primordial horror—
Was something big.
Something with teeth.
Something that was probably very interested in eating us.
Tyson whimpered.
Annabeth paled. "That…is a very big fish."
I exhaled.
Cracked my neck.
Rolled my shoulders.
Then grinned.
"Well, boys."
I clenched my fists.
"Round Two."