conqueror • percy jackson

7.

Things at camp got worse, just like Tantalus wanted. Percy became the laughingstock of the campers for having a monster for a brother. The only thing that was going well for him was that he and Annabeth teamed up for the chariot race.

Her mother invented the chariot, and his father created horses. It made perfect sense.

And Rosie had already teamed up with Clarisse.

Percy sat with Annabeth by the lake sketching designed for their chariot when Rosie's siblings walked by. They giggled as they asked him if he needed to borrow some eyeliner for his eye, "oh, sorry... eyes."

As they walked away laughing, Annabeth grumbled, "Just ignore them, Percy. It isn't your fault you have a monster for a brother."

"He's not my brother!" The son of Poseidon snapped. "And he's not a monster, either!"

Annabeth raised her eyebrows. "Hey, don't get mad at me! And technically, he is a monster."

"Well you gave him permission to enter the camp."

"Because it was the only way to save your life! I mean...I'm sorry, Percy, I didn't expect Poseidon to claim him. Cyclopes are the most deceitful, treacherous-"

"He is not! What have you got against Cyclopes, anyway?"

"Just forget it," she said. "Now, the axle for this chariot-"

"You're treating him like he's this horrible thing," Percy said. "He saved my life."

Annabeth threw down her pencil and stood. "Then maybe you should design a chariot with him."

"Maybe I should."

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

-

Rosie must've heard about the heckling her siblings delivered, because the following day Silena Beauregard offered to give him his first lesson riding pegasus.

The only problem was that Tyson wanted to ride the "chicken ponies," too, but the pegasi got skittish whenever he approached.

Percy told them telepathically that Tyson wouldn't hurt them, but they didn't seem to believe him. That made Tyson cry.

The only person at camp who had no problem with Tyson, besides Rosie, was Beckendorf from the Hephaestus cabin. The blacksmith god had always worked with Cyclopes in his forges, so Beckendorf took Tyson down to the armory to teach him metalworking.

After lunch, Percy worked out in the arena with Apollo's cabin. People said he was better at it than any camper in the last hundred years, except maybe Luke and Rosie.

While he was with the Apollo campers, Tyson was off with Rosalyn. The two had become good friends.

As they were on a walk of the campgrounds, they passed a group of Athena campers. Their laughter and hushed whispers were enough to set off the red-haired girl.

"Is there a problem?" Rosalyn barked, glaring at them.

"Come on, Rosalyn. We're just having a bit of fun."

Rosalyn merely raised a brow at them.

"He's a monster. You gotta admit, it's a little funny," the boy stammered.

"Tyson is Percy's brother. End of story," Rosalyn snapped. "Tease him again, and I'll run you through."

"It was just a joke," one of the girls said defensively.

"And it wasn't funny."

Rosalyn slipped the gold pin from her hair, but they scurried off before she could spin it into her legendary sword. A small whimper from behind her caught her attention and had her spinning around.

Tyson's large eye was welling with tears.

The small girl slipped the pin back into her hair and released a heavy sigh.

"It's okay, Tyson. They don't know what they're talking about," Rosalyn soothed. She pressed her hand to her large arm and smiled warmly. "Not all monsters do monstrous things. If anyone bothers you again, you come find me. I'll sort it out."

"Pretty girl is nice," Tyson sniffled.

She laughed and started walking again.

"Come on, big guy. You've got a chariot to finish, and so do I."

-

Percy and Tyson finished their chariot the evening before the race, and then returned to Cabin Three for bed.

Tyson said, "You are mad?" making him realize he'd been scowling.

"Nah, I'm not mad."

He lay down in his bunk and was quiet in the dark. His body was way too long for his bed. When he pulled up the covers, his feet stuck out the bottom. "I am a monster."

"Don't say that," Percy protested.

"It is okay. I will be a good monster," Tyson promises. "Pretty girl says I can. Then you will not have to be mad."

Pretty girl was what Tyson always called Rosie.

"I'm sorry," Percy told him. "It's not your fault. I'm mad at Poseidon. I feel like he's trying to embarrass me, like he's trying to compare us or something, and I don't understand why."

I heard a deep rumbling sound. Tyson was snoring.

With a sigh, Percy rolled over in his bed. At least Rosie had managed to make Tyson feel welcome. Percy could never thank her enough for that.

While he slept that night, he had another dream about Grover being in danger.