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THIRTY, the bride of polyphemus
❀ ✿ ❀ ✿
WHEN ASTER THOUGHT ABOUT the supposed "monster island" (as Percy constantly referred to it as) that housed one of the deadliest monsters in Greek mythology, in the middle of the Sea of Monsters, she assumed it would look a lot scarier than it did. She expected more craggy rocks and bones scattered on the beach like some sort of tourist trap straight out of a horror movie.
The cyclops' island was nothing like that. Sure, it had a rope bridge across a chasm, which was not a good sign—but that was more Indiana Jones than anything monstrous. Besides that small detail, the place looked like a Caribbean postcard. It had green fields and tropical fruit trees and white beaches.
As they sailed toward the shore, Aster breathed in the sweet air. "The Fleece," she said. She could sense its power seeping into the land. The plants sang with life and prosperity—something only the Fleece could bring about.
Percy nodded as he continued steering the boat. Aster's heart filled with hope; with that kind of power, the Fleece could heal anything, even Thalia's poisoned tree.
"If we take it away, will the island die?" he asked.
Annabeth shook her head. "It'll fade. Go back to what it would normally be, whatever that is."
"So if it was dead before, I guess it'll be dead after," Aster said.
Percy glared at her, and she returned it with a bright smile.
Aster felt a bit guilty about ruining this paradise, especially with how all the plants thrived in it, but they had no choice. Thalia's memory would die without it, and the camp... Aster didn't even want to think of what would happen to Camp Half-Blood without it. The sacrifices they had made thus far—Tyson—made it so they had to trudge forward. When Aster saw Percy's crestfallen expression, she suspected the loss of Tyson had started hitting him really hard—especially with the reminder that they would be facing a cyclops.
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, something gold glittering in its branches.
Aster shook her head, looking around for signs of danger. "Something's wrong."
"This is too easy," Percy agreed. "We could just hike up there and take it?"
Annabeth's eyes narrowed. "There's supposed to be a guardian. A dragon or..."
That was when a deer emerged from the bushes. 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.
