ᴡᴇ ʙᴏᴀʀᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇꜱꜱ ᴀɴᴅʀᴏᴍᴇᴅᴀ

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I was staring at the waves with Aster when Annabeth and Tyson found me.

"What's going on?" Annabeth asked. "I heard you calling for help!"

"Me, too!" Tyson said. "Heard you yell, 'Bad things are attacking!'"

"I didn't call you guys," I said. "I'm fine."

"But then who ..." Annabeth noticed the three yellow duffel bags, then the thermos and the bottle of vitamins I was holding. "What—"

"Just listen," I said. "We don't have much time."

I told them about my conversation with Hermes. By the time I was finished, I could hear screeching in the distance—patrol harpies picking up our scent.

"Percy," Annabeth said, "we have to do the quest."

"We'll get expelled, you know. Trust me, I'm an expert at getting expelled."

"So? If we fail, there won't be any camp to come back to."

"Yeah, but you promised Chiron—"

"I promised I'd keep you from danger. I can only do that by coming with you! Tyson can stay behind and tell them—"

"I want to go," Tyson said.

"No!" Annabeth's voice sounded close to panic. "I mean ... Percy, come on. You know that's impossible."

I wondered again why she had such a grudge against Cyclopes. There was something she wasn't telling me.

She and Tyson both looked at me, waiting for an answer. Meanwhile, the cruise ship was getting farther and farther away.

The thing was, part of me didn't want Tyson along. I'd spent the last three days in close quarters with the guy, getting razzed by the other campers and embarrassed a million times a day, constantly reminded that I was related to him. I needed some space.

Plus, I didn't know how much help he'd be, or how I'd keep him safe. Sure, he was strong, but Tyson was a little kid in Cyclops terms, maybe seven or eight years old, mentally. I could see him freaking out and starting to cry while we were trying to sneak past a monster or something. He'd get us all killed.

On the other hand, the sound of the harpies was getting closer....

"We can't leave him," I decided. "Tantalus will punish him for us being gone."

"Percy," Annabeth said, trying to keep her cool, "we're going to Polyphemus's island! Polyphemus is an S-i-k ... a C-y-k . .." She stamped her foot in frustration. As smart as she was, Annabeth was dyslexic, too. We could've been there all night while she tried to spell Cyclops. "You know what I mean!"

"Tyson can go," I insisted, "if he wants to."

Tyson clapped his hands. "Want to!"

"We need him anyway, for the quest, I mean," Aster remarked nonchalantly, his posture relaxed with his hands casually nestled in his pockets, and the black duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

Annabeth gave us the evil eye, but I guess she could tell I wasn't going to change my mind. Or maybe she just knew we didn't have time to argue.

"All right," she said. "How do we get to that ship?"

"Hermes said my father would help."

"Well then, Seaweed Brain? What are you waiting for?"

I'd always had a hard time calling on my father, or praying, or whatever you want to call it, but I stepped into the waves.

"Urn, Dad?" I called. "How's it going?"

"Percy!" Annabeth whispered. "We're in a hurry!"

"We need your help," I called a little louder. "We need to get to that ship, like, before we get eaten and stuff, so ..."

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