Consequences
"Grover, use healing magic on Annabeth while Clarisse gets the Golden Fleece and uses it on her," Percy said, his voice carrying a serious weight that felt unexpectedly authoritative.
Grover nodded at once. And although Clarisse hated taking orders from Percy, this time she did not seem inclined to argue.
Polyphemus looked toward Percy. For a brief instant, he almost felt the boy's dangerous stare pierce through him with contempt. It fueled his rage immediately.
"What is that loo—?"
He did not get to finish.
Suddenly, Percy, who had been standing in front of the cave moments before, leapt at him with startling speed. His step left a deep mark in the stone as he pushed off.
Polyphemus barely caught sight of that cold gaze closing the distance in a blink, right in front of his face.
A straight punch.
The giant raised his hand on instinct to shield himself, but the impact was so brutal that his own palm slammed into his face, forcing him several steps backward.
Percy landed firmly. Without wasting a second, he drew a black sword from the pouch at his waist and, jumping again, unleashed an upward slash.
A merciless arc rising without hesitation.
The blade cut through skin and flesh. Polyphemus roared as his wound burned, froze, and crackled with electricity all at once. Three elements tearing through his flesh in a single strike. Desperate, feeling the cut climbing toward his neck, he began swinging wildly through the air.
Percy had to defend himself, blocking one of the blows with his sword. Even so, the force sent him several meters back. He hit the ground, absorbing the impact, dropped to one knee for a heartbeat, then rose again.
"AAAH!" Polyphemus shouted, staring at the massive wound across his abdomen. No blood flowed; the flesh had been completely cauterized by the sword's power. "You wretch! That hurts!"
Percy did not even seem to hear him. He drew his second sword and stared at him as if the giant's pain meant nothing.
Meanwhile, Clarisse seized the opportunity and began climbing the rock swiftly, aiming for the top.
"You want my Fleece? Then you will have to go through me!" Polyphemus bellowed, grabbing a massive boulder at his side, preparing to hurl it at Clarisse.
"That is exactly what I intend to do," Percy replied, charging at him with both swords in hand.
Seeing that, Clarisse trusted him and kept climbing without looking back.
At the last second, the giant changed targets and threw the boulder straight at Percy. He jumped aside, rolled across the ground to evade it, and rose almost instantly without breaking his momentum. He reached the giant and, with a wide lateral cross slash from both blades, tore into the flesh of his leg.
"AAAH!" Polyphemus screamed again.
Instinctively, he lifted his injured leg, but he did not notice that Percy had already moved behind the other one.
Another slash.
The giant lost his balance and fell forward onto his knees.
Filled with pain, Polyphemus saw Percy appear at his side and leap toward his neck. His instinct, stained with blood, was pure murder. And for the first time, fear flickered in the Cyclops' eye.
He swung his hand desperately to knock him away. He did not manage to stop him, but he lost a finger in the attempt. Even so, that movement deflected the strike that had been aimed directly at his neck.
Percy was thrown back through the air again and landed, his feet scraping lightly against the stone before he propelled himself forward once more, like a beast that had no intention of stopping until his enemy was dead.
Polyphemus saw him coming, and his gaze turned red. Fury. Survival instinct. He began throwing punches wildly, without control.
One of them crashed against both of Percy's swords. He blocked, but this time he was sent flying even farther, nearly tumbling off the cliff. At the last instant, he drove one of his blades into the ground, halting his fall.
Polyphemus used that second to drag himself toward a nearby tree. Even with his injured leg, he tore it from the earth by the roots.
And hurled it straight at Percy without hesitation.
Percy saw the tree hurtling toward him. He released Riptide for a split second and gripped the black sword with both hands above his head. Then he brought it down.
The tree was cleaved in two before it could reach him. Both halves plunged into the chasm below.
But another boulder came flying immediately after.
Percy leapt aside as the stone smashed into the spot where he had stood moments earlier. The ground shook. A section of the cliff broke away and crashed into the void with a thunderous roar.
The giant, even with multiple wounds, still possessed monstrous strength. And the angrier he grew, the more control he lost, hurling attacks indiscriminately.
When Percy closed in again, Polyphemus ripped up another tree and swung it in a wide arc like a weapon. Percy had to retreat once more to avoid it.
But that did not stop him.
He lifted Riptide, spun it once in his hand, and shifted into a throwing stance.
He aimed directly at the Cyclops' great eye.
The sword pierced it instantly.
"AAAH, you wretch!" Polyphemus howled as the agony drove him further into madness. Even then, he continued thrashing the tree in every direction, trying to strike Percy with blind fury.
The branches scraped across Percy's arm and tore at his clothes, leaving shallow cuts behind.
But he did not retreat.
He ran toward the giant, determined to finish it.
He leapt, dodging another swing, and brought his blade down in a descending slash before the giant's arm could strike the ground.
The limb fell.
Polyphemus screamed in agony.
Percy seized the moment and drove a powerful kick into his chest, forcing him backward.
The giant crashed heavily.
Polyphemus collapsed with a strangled roar. He felt Percy's boot press firmly against his chest. And from the sound alone, he understood that the boy's sword was heading straight for his throat.
"Wait, wait! The Fleece!" Polyphemus shouted at once, suddenly filled with panic. "It is fake!" he added desperately.
Percy's blade halted just in front of his neck.
"What?" Percy asked, a lethal glare fixed on the giant.
"It is fake. That Fleece is fake," the Cyclops said, now completely ruled by fear. "The real one is hidden. If you kill me, you will not be able to heal your friend."
Percy's gaze seemed to grow even colder. His hand trembled slightly, not from doubt, but from the urge to drive the blade through that throat once and for all.
"Clarisse!" he shouted without taking his eyes off the Cyclops or lowering his sword.
Clarisse, who had used the fight to climb up to the tree, grabbed the supposed Fleece and examined it closely. A sticky liquid coated it. Looking nearer, she understood what it was; golden blood smeared over nothing more than ordinary sheep's hide.
"Oh no…" she muttered as she realized.
"It is fake!" she shouted down, frustrated.
Below, Percy felt his fury thicken.
"Where is it?" he demanded, his voice carrying an authority that left no room for negotiation. "Tell me where it is or I will kill you right now. And you will not even make it to Tartarus."
He knew Annabeth did not have much time. Even with Grover's healing magic, it would not be enough forever.
Polyphemus suddenly felt that he had gained the advantage. His panic faded slightly, and a crooked smile spread across his face.
"Drop your weapons and I will tell you where it is," he said mockingly.
"Percy, do not believe him! It is a trap!" Grover shouted while continuing to pour healing magic into Annabeth. She was growing paler by the second. She was holding on, but Grover's energy was not endless.
Percy glanced at Annabeth for a moment. Then he looked back at the Cyclops. Grover's words echoed in his mind.
"How do I know you will tell me?" he asked in a low voice.
"You do not," Polyphemus replied with a victorious grin. "But I am the only one who knows where it is. And the only one who can retrieve it."
It was obvious he was lying.
The moment Percy lowered his blades, that foul mouth would try to devour him.
"Go on, kill me," the giant added. "In that case, you will never find it. And your friend will die."
Even if he could not see it clearly, he could sense the hesitation in Percy.
Percy inhaled slowly.
And lowered his sword.
Polyphemus' grin widened instantly. The moment he felt Percy relax his guard, he used his one uninjured hand and grabbed him violently.
"HAHAHA! What a fool," the Cyclops roared between laughs. "Even if I die today, I will return. I will crawl out of Tartarus if I must. But at least I will take you with me. And that brat too!"
"Percy!" Grover shouted, still healing Annabeth. If he stopped, she might die. But he could see Percy straining with all his strength, trying to pry the giant's fingers open.
He could barely move them.
Polyphemus' strength was still monstrous.
Clarisse was descending the cliff as fast as she could, but she would not make it in time. The giant moved his hand swiftly before Percy could break free and opened his mouth, ready to bite his head off.
There was no time left.
"Damn it…" Percy muttered, realizing that lowering his guard had been the worst mistake possible. Even Miraak would have kicked him for something like that.
But just before the Cyclops' jaws could close over him, a hammer flew through the air and slammed violently into the side of Polyphemus' head.
The impact knocked his bite off course.
Percy recognized that war hammer instantly and turned his head toward its source.
Grover and Clarisse did the same.
Among the carnivorous sheep stood Tyson. Upright, in a throwing stance. It had been him.
And what drew even more attention than the hammer—
Draped over his shoulders like a golden cloak was the true Golden Fleece.
"Percy, I have been looking for you everywhere. Look what I found among the bees," Tyson said with a wide smile, waving his hand.
Percy could not help but smile as well, even while trapped.
He looked toward Grover and Clarisse.
"Take Annabeth to Tyson and use the Fleece. I will catch up soon," he roared as he tensed his muscles and began forcing the giant's hand open, while Polyphemus was still shaking his head, trying to recover from the blow.
Clarisse did not hesitate. She leapt the remaining distance, scooped Annabeth up in her arms like a princess, and ran toward Tyson. Grover followed without stopping the flow of healing magic.
On the other side of the hill, Tyson watched everything with a confused expression.
And Percy, still in the giant's grip, clenched his teeth.
The fight was not over yet.