𐌙/𐌍 Ᏽ𐌵𐌀𐌋𐌄 & 𐌕𐋅𐌄 Ᏽ𐌐𐌄𐌀𐌕 𐌌𐌙𐌕𐋅𐌔 ¹

Chapter 15

Fifteen
𖧷

We Encounter THE Sheep

  When you think “monster island,” you think craggy rocks and bones scattered on the beach like the island of the Sirens.

  The Cyclops’s island was nothing like that. I mean, okay, it had a rope bridge across a chasm, which was not a good sign. You might as well put up a billboard that said: SOMETHING EVIL LIVES HERE. But except for that, the place looked like a Caribbean postcard. It had green fields and tropical fruit trees and white beaches. As we sailed toward the shore, Annabeth breathed in the sweet air. "The Fleece," she said.

  Even though I couldn't see it, yet, the overwhelming smell of glitter and apples was enough to make me feel the magic from the Fleece. I felt that it could save anything. "If we take it away, will the island die?"

  Annabeth shook her head. "It’ll fade. Go back to what it would be normally, whatever that is."

  I felt a little guilty about ruining this paradise, but I reminded myself we had no choice. Camp Half-Blood was in trouble–We needed to help it.

  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 glittered in its branches.

  "This is too easy," I said. "We could just hike up there and take it?"

  Annabeth’s eyes narrowed. "There’s supposed be a guardian. A dragon or ..."

  That’s 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.

  Grass and tufts of fur flew into the air.
A second later the sheep all moved away, back to their regular peaceful wanderings. Where the deer had been was a pile of clean white bones.

  Annabeth and I exchanged looks.

  "They’re like piranhas," she said.

  "Piranhas with wool. How will we–"

  "(y/n)!" Annabeth gasped, grabbing my arm. “Look."

  She pointed down the beach, to just below the sheep meadow, where a small boat had been run aground ... the other lifeboat from the CSS Birmingham.

  We decided there was no way we could get past the man-eating sheep. Annabeth wanted to sneak up the path invisibly and grab the Fleece, but in the end I convinced her that something would go wrong. The sheep would smell her. Another guardian would appear. Something. And if that happened, I’d be too far away to help. And Percy was still half asleep. Even after the songs from the sirens, he slept through all of it. I have no idea how.

  Besides, our first job was to find Grover and whoever had come ashore in that lifeboat–assuming they’d gotten past the sheep. Maybe Clarisse had gotten out alive, or possibly Tyson. But we didn't count much on the latter.