oh, it's you.

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Bronte and Percy were staring at the waves when Annabeth and Tyson found them

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Bronte and Percy were staring at the waves when Annabeth and Tyson found them.

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

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

Percy glanced nervously over at Bronte. "We didn't call you guys," he said.

"Yeah, we're fine," Bronte added.

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

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

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

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

"That's what I told him," the blonde huffed.

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

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

"Yeah, but you promised Chiron—"

"I promised I'd keep you two 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...come on. You know that's impossible."

Bronte didn't understand why Annabeth hated Tyson so much. She knew something bad had to happen for her to have this reaction.

"We can't leave him," Percy 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.

"It's okay, we know what you mean," Bronte told her.

"Tyson can go," Perxy insisted. "If he wants to."

Tyson clapped his hands. "Want to!"

Annabeth gave Percy the evil eye, but knew they didn't have time to argue. "All right," she said. "How do we get to that ship?"

"Hermes said my father would help," Percy explained.

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

"C'mon, Sharkboy. Your father awaits you!" Bronte exclaimed.

Percy sighed, turning to the blonde. "Will I ever get to be called Sharkman? I'm tired of being called Sharkboy!"

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐮𝐬, 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒚 𝒋𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒔𝒐𝒏Where stories live. Discover now