Percy Jackson, the Son of Olympus: The Sea of Monsters

| Chapter XVIII || The Descent |

*August 28 XXXX*

***

Please. Please.

Those thoughts were running everyone's minds as the Golden Fleece was laid out over Annabeth's body, her face growing paler by the minute as she bled out. The weight of the woven gold was good for keeping pressure on her wound, and soon, the blood was no longer flowing out through the fibres, but Annabeth was looking deader with each passing second.

"Come on!" Percy cried, smashing his fist in the grass. The rage he felt against Polyphemus was repressed, though it bubbled just beneath the surface of his skin. No one touched his friends. No one harmed anyone he cared about, not while he was around. That was a vow he'd made years ago, but now, he'd failed. He'd failed Annabeth, and as a result, she was laying in the grass outside of a cyclops' cave, dying.

Then, as if by some miracle – which was really just the Fleece working its magic – the colour returned to her face. Her eyelids fluttered, before opening weakly and staring at us, exhaustion swimming in the stormy grey orbs. "Hey guys..." she said weakly.

"Annabeth, be still. You need to rest," Artemis said soothingly. She placed her hand gently on Annabeth's chest as the latter girl tried to sit up.

Letting out a short cough, Annabeth winced, then nodded. "Okay..."

"Artemis, while that's a good idea, we need to go," I said. "I know we defeated Polyphemus, but we're still in the Sea of Monsters, and Thalia's tree doesn't have long now. We've already wasted enough time during this journey."

Artemis turned to face Percy for a second before looking back at Annabeth, whose cuts had healed. In fact, the daughter of Athena looked a lot better than she had just minutes before. She practically shone, as if someone had injected her with glitter. (He'd actually almost done that once, when he was very young, but Artemis stopped him and needless to say, Apollo was no longer allowed to supervise him without supervision.)

"Okay," Annabeth said, now sitting up. She paled a little as she did so but otherwise was fine. "How are we going to get down? I don't think I can climb."

"I'll carry you." Percy didn't know why he volunteered, but before he knew it, the words were out of his mouth. "Grover, can you go into the cave and get some rope? We'll tie it to a tree to help lower ourselves."

The satyr nodded. "Rope? Yep. Got it." He trotted away.

"Okay, now Annabeth, keep the Fleece around you, just in case you haven't completely healed yet," he said. Then he hoisted her up, just to gage her general weight on his back, but as he did so, her face whitened to snow. A lower groan escapes her mouth. Immediately, he set her down.

"Bad idea," he said. "Artemis, you and I carry her to the ledge with the Fleece around her. By then, her wound will have healed enough for me to be able to lift her and carry her down. It's just too heavy for me with both her and the Fleece."

Artemis gave a quick nod before grabbing one side of Annabeth and lifting. Between the two of them, they carried her towards the cliff's edge in only a few minutes. In the meantime, Grover had grabbed the rope and tied it to a tree, then dashed over to the other heroes with the end of it, unravelling it as he went.

***

Slowly and precariously, the heroes made their way down the cliff, placing their feet on every hold and resting on every ledge. As it had been on the way up, the walls were smooth, with little to grab onto, but they made it down.

Annabeth – on Percy's back – groaned in mild pain with every jerk and step; the wound on her stomach was being stretched back and forth, painful, as it had only just healed. On Artemis' back, she carried the Fleece, which weighed her down more than Annabeth did to Percy.

The moon goddess cursed her mortal strength as, once again, she stopped to rest. If she was at full strength, she could've just zapped them out of there, heal Annabeth's wound completely, and they could've sailed back out to sea. She scowled as a thought struck her. If she'd had her powers, Annabeth wouldn't even have been injured in the first place! She was the one the daughter of Athena had saved! She was the one who caused Annabeth to get stabbed by the blasted cyclops.

Her foot slipped.

Artemis slid down the cliff's face, her heart now racing in her chest as she desperately grabbed at the walls, trying to find something – anything – to grab hold of. She couldn't help the scream that ripped from her mouth in its attempt to escape her lungs, the sound high pitched and filled with fright.

"Artemis!" she vaguely heard from above - in hindsight, she registered it as Percy, though in the moment, it was generic. Her brain didn't have the time nor the need to figure out who it was.

Then, her fingers caught something. The tiny ridge dug into her fingertips as she used it to stop her momentum, drawing blood. Her arm stretched to its longest, and then some, and Artemis let out a sharp cry of pain as she nearly dislocated her arm. The rest of her body soon followed her hand as it rested against the cliff's face, and she closed her eyes in an effort to regain her equilibrium. Once again searching, this time, her feet found small ledges of their own, and Artemis continued to climb down the cliff, the Fleece on her back, already healing her hand and her shoulder joint.

Finally, they made it to the ground.

Artemis jumped down, collapsing as soon as her feet hit the sand, and she saw that Percy did the same, though he gently set Annabeth down before doing so. Tyson and Grover, the lucky buggers, seemed fine, though Artemis couldn't hold it against them because, time and time again on the journey down, each boy had offered to take the Fleece from her and carry it themselves at least twice, to which she refused. With her hair in the sand, clearly getting full of the small white granules, the goddess let out a large sigh. She let all the air out of her lungs in this one tremendous exhale, before inhaling another load not two seconds after.

After levelling out her breathing, Artemis immediately stood, then pulled Percy to his feet. "We have to go. Rest-time is over."

The son of Poseidon nodded. "The ship's over there." He pointed and dipped his head at the large ship that sat in the shallows just off to their right. It was still as untouched as when they'd left it and seemed in plenty good shape to sail back out into the treacherous waters of the Bermuda Triangle – as the mortals called it.

Picking up Annabeth again was simple, and, with the Fleece on Grover's back, Artemis and Percy hauled the honey-blonde between them towards the ship.

***

Published: Tuesday, February 27, 2018

~CSP2708~