A/N: I don't own the rights to any of the Percy Jackson series or it's characters. That right goes to Rick Riordan. I also don't own the rights to Animorph including it's title.

I am, however, the person who posted 'The Tales of...' series.

This is not a crossover of the Percy Jackson series with the book/tv series Animorph, despite what you might think from the title. I just thought it be a proper name for the ability to turn into animals since that's why the tv/book series 'Animorph' was called that in the first place.

If you haven't read this yet, read:

Animorph Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lightning Thief

I Turn into Polyphemus's Wedding Present

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

Polyphemus's island was nothing like that. I mean, okay, it had a rope bridge across a chasm, which was not 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.

I nodded. I could not see the Fleece yet, but I could feel its power. I could believe it would heal anything, even Thalia's poisoned tree. "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. And Tyson… Tyson would still be with us if it were not for this quest.

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 the massive oak tree I had seen in my dreams. 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 is 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—"

"Percy!" 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.

…

Between my shapeshifting powers and Annabeth's cap of invisibility we could have sneaked pass the sheep and got the Fleece, but we did not know if there was another guardian would appear. So, we decided to find Grover and whoever had come ashore in that lifeboat—assuming they had gotten past the sheep. I was secretly hoping that it was Tyson as it would mean he was alive.

We moored the Queen Anne's Revenge on the back side of the island where the cliffs rose straight up a good two hundred feet. I figured the ship was less likely to be seen there.

The cliffs looked climbable for me. Hopefully for Annabeth too. I hoped that Polyphemus did not also keep carnivorous mountain goats.

We rowed a lifeboat to the edge of the rocks and made our way up, very slowly. I shapeshifted into a mountain goat and climb up the cliff with Annabeth clinging onto my back and horns. It was tough, as mountain goats are not the biggest cliff side climbers, but it was the fastest.

We reached the top with ease as Annabeth got off me and I shapeshifted back. But our moment of peace was broken by a bellow, "Garrr!"

I swirled around, but could not see who that was.

Annabeth clamped her hand over her mouth and pointed with the other.

The ledge we stopped on apparently was narrower than I realized. It dropped off on the opposite side, and that's where the voice was coming from—right below us."

"You're a feisty one!" the deep voice bellowed.

"Challenge me!" Clarisse's voice, no doubt about it. "Give me back my sword and I'll fight you!"

The monster roared with laughter.

Annabeth and I crept to the edge. We were right above the entrance of the Cyclops's cave. Below us stood Polyphemus and Grover, still in his wedding dress. Clarisse was tied up, hanging upside down over a pot of boiling water. I was half hoping to see Tyson down there, too. Even if he has been in danger, at least I would have known he was alive. But there was no sign of him.

"Hmm," Polyphemus pondered. "Eat loudmouth girl now or wait for wedding feast? What does my bride think?"

He turned to Grover, who backed up and almost tripped over his completed bridal train. "Oh, um, I'm not hungry right now, dear. Perhaps—"

"Did you say bride?" Clarisse demanded. "Who—Grover?"

Next to me, Annabeth muttered, "Shut up. She has to shut up."

Polyphemus glowered. "What 'Grover'?"

"The satyr!" Clarisse yelled.

"Oh!" Grover yelped. "The poor thing's brain is boiling from that hot water. Pull her down, dear!"

Polyphemus's eyelids narrowed over his baleful milky eye, as if he were trying to see Clarisse more clearly.

The Cyclops was an even more horrible sight than he had been in my dreams. Partly because his rancid smell was now up close and personal. Partly because he was dressed in his wedding outfit—a crude kilt and shoulder-wrap, stitched together from baby-blue tuxedoes, as if he had sinned an entire wedding party.

"What satyr?" asked Polyphemus. "Satyrs are good eating. You bring me a satyr?"

"No, big idiot!" bellowed Clarisse. "That satyr! Grover! The one in the wedding dress!"

I wanted to wring Clarisse's neck, but it was too late. All I could do was watch as Polyphemus turned and ripped off Grover's wedding veil—revealing his curly hair, his scruffy adolescent beard, his tiny horns.

Polyphemus breathed heavily, trying to contain his anger. "I don't see very well," he growled. "Not since many years ago when the other hero stabbed me in eye. But YOU'RE—NO—LADY—CYCLOPS!"

The Cyclops grabbed Grover's dress and tore it away. Underneath, the old Grover reappeared in his jeans and T-shirt. He yelped and ducked as the monster swiped over his head.

"Stop!" Grover pleaded. "Don't eat me raw! I—I have a good recipe!"

I reached for my sword, but Annabeth hissed, "Wait!"

Polyphemus was hesitating, a boulder in his hand, ready to smash his would-be bride.

"Recipe?" he asked Grover.

"Oh y-yes! You do not want to eat me raw. You will get E coli and botulism and all sorts of horrible things. I will taste much better grilled over a slow fire. With mango chutney! You could go get some mangos right now, down there in the woods. I'll just wait here."

The monster pondered this. My heart hammered against my ribs. I figured I would die if I charged. But I could not let the monster kill Grover.

"Grilled satyr with mango chutney," Polyphemus mused. He looked at Clarisse, still hanging over the pot of boiling water. "You a satyr, too?"

"No, you overgrown pile of dung!" she yelled. "I'm a girl! The daughter of Ares! Now untie me so I can rip your arms off!"

"Rip my arms off," Polyphemus repeated.

"And stuff them down your throat!"

"You got spunk."

"Let me down!"

Polyphemus snatched up Grover as if he were a wayward puppy. "Have to graze sheep now. Wedding postponed until tonight. Then we'll eat satyr for the main course!"

"But… you're still getting married?" Grover sounded hurt. "Who's the bride?"

Polyphemus looked toward the boiling pot.

Clarisse made a strangled sound. "Oh, no! You cannot be serious. I'm not—"

Before Annabeth or I could do anything, Polyphemus plucked her off the rope like she was a ripe apple, and tossed her and Grover deep into the cave. "Make yourself comfortable! I come back at sundown for big event!"

Then the Cyclops whistled, and a mixed flock of goats and sheep—smaller than the man-eaters-flooded out of the cave and past their master. As they went to pasture, Polyphemus patted some on the back and call them by name—Beltbuster, Tammany, Lockhart, etc. When the last sheep had waddled out, Polyphemus rolled a boulder in front of the doorway as easily as I would close a refrigerator door, shutting off the sound of Clarisse and Grover screaming inside.

"Mangos," Polyphemus grumbled to himself. "What are mangos?"

He strolled off down the mountain in his baby-blue groom's outfit, leaving us alone with a pot of boiling water and a six-ton boulder.

…

We tried for what seemed like hours, but it was no good. The boulder was too big to move for humans, and when I wanted to try and go elephant, Annabeth turned down the idea, saying I could attract Polyphemus here. She reminded me of Tyson's hyper sense of hearing and that Polyphemus could have the same hearing. That also made it difficult for us to try and get Grover to hear us since again, Polyphemus might hear us if we were too loud.

Another problem, at least according to Annabeth, is even if we choose to fight Polyphemus, no hero been able to kill him. The most damage any hero been able to do was blinding him.

In total frustration, I stabbed Riptide against the boulder. Sparks flew, but nothing else happened. A large rock is not the kind of enemy you can fight with a magic sword.

Annabeth and I sat on the ridge in despair and watched the distant baby-blue shaped Cyclops as he moved among his flocks. He had wisely divided his regular animals from his man-eating sheep, putting each group on either side of the huge crevice that divided the island. The only way across was the rope bridge, and the planks were much too far apart for sheep hooves.

We watched as Polyphemus visited his carnivorous flock on the far side. Unfortunately, they did not eat him. In fact, they did not seem to bother him at all. He fed them chunk of mystery meat from a great wicker basket. I am starting to see why Grover prefer being a vegetarian.

"Trickery," Annabeth decided. "We'll have to use trickery."

"Okay," I said. "What trick?"

"I haven't figured that part out yet."

"Great."

"It is best to have Polyphemus to move the rock himself when he let the sheep inside," Annabeth stated.

"Which will be at sunset," I said. "Which is when he'll marry Clarisse and have Grover for dinner. I'm not sure which is grosser."

"I could get inside invisibly," Annabeth said. "You might be able to get in posing as a sheep."

"Great…" I responded.

…

Annabeth put on her cap and went invisible as I turn into a sheep. It was weird compare to most animals I turn into. I had so much wool I swear I felt hot the moment I turned. I was able to join the heard without a problem. I just hope Polyphemus is dumb enough not to think twice about an extra sheep.

Another problem is, I was still smaller than Polyphemus smallest sheep. The average sheep was supposed to only get as big as around four feet, but Polyphemus sheep were big enough to hide a full-grown man if he climbed under it—at least that is what Annabeth said. How the heck he gets his sheep to grow so big?

No sooner as when the sun started going down, the Cyclops roared, "Oy! Goaties! Sheepies!"

The flock dutifully began trudging back up the slopes toward the cave.

"This is it!" Annabeth whispered. "I'll be close by. Don't worry."

I started plodding up the hill. Rock climbing was not as hard as a sheep as I thought.

"Hasenpfeffer!" the Cyclops said, patting one of the sheep in front of me. "Einstein! Widget!"

Then came my turn as I was in the back of the line. Polyphemus must keep track of his sheep through names because he almost left me out until I let out a sheep sound.

Polyphemus reach down and patted me. "Oh, aren't you a little one? Where you come from?"

I worried he might mistaken me as a sheep from the meat-eating breed or something.

"Must be a wedding present from Poseidon. He knows I like sheep." Polyphemus said. "Welcome to the heard. I'll fatten you up in no time."

That is right. I forgot that Polyphemus was the son of Poseidon. That means if he married Clarisse, she would become my sister-in-law.

Great, just when I thought things were bad enough.

Either way, I was now in the cave.

The Cyclops was about to roll the stone back into place, when from somewhere outside Annabeth shouted, "Hello, ugly!"

Polyphemus stiffened. "Who said that?"

"Nobody!" Annabeth yelled.

That got exactly the reaction she had been hoping for. The monster's face turned red with rage.

"Nobody!" Polyphemus yelled back. "I remember you!"

"You're too stupid to remember anybody," Annabeth taunted. "Much less Nobody."

I hoped to the gods she was already moving when she said that, because Polyphemus bellowed furiously, grabbed the nearest boulder (which happened to be his front door) and threw it toward the sound of Annabeth's voice. I heard the rock smash into a thousand fragments.

For a terrible moment, there was silence. Then Annabeth shouted, "You haven't learned to throw any better, either!"

Polyphemus howled. "That's it! This is the day I'll kill Nobody!"

"You can't kill Nobody, stupid oaf," she taunted. "Come find me!"

Polyphemus barreled down the hill toward her voice.

"Now, the "Nobody" thing wouldn't have made sense to anybody, but Annabeth had explained to me that it was the name Odysseus had used to trick Polyphemus centuries ago, right before he poked the Cyclops's eye out with a large hot stick. Annabeth had figured Polyphemus would still have a grudge about that name, and she was right. In his frenzy to find his old enemy, he forgot about resealing the cave entrance. Apparently, he did not even stop to consider that Annabeth's voice was female whereas the first Nobody had been male. On other hand, he had wanted to marry Grover, so he could not have been all that bright about the whole male/female thing.

I just hoped Annabeth could stay alive and keep distracting him long enough for me to find Grover and Clarisse.

I morphed back into human form and searched the main room. There was no sign of Grover or Clarisse. I pushed through the heard of sheep and goats toward the back of the cave.

Even though I had dreamed about this place, I had a hard time finding my way through the maze. I ran down corridors littered with bones, past rooms full of sheepskin rugs and life-size cement sheep that I recognized as the work of Medusa. There were collections of sheep T-shirts; large tubs of lanolin cream; and wooly coats, socks, and hats with ram's horns. Finally, I found the spinning room, where Grover was huddled in the corner, trying to cut Clarisse's bonds with a pair of sheep theme safety scissors.

"It's no good," Clarisse said. "This rope is like iron!"

"Just a few more minutes!"

"Grover," she cried, exasperated. "You've been working at it for hours."

"Maybe I can help." I said causing the two to jump. They turned to see me.

"Percy?" Clarisse said. "You're supposed to be Scylla chow!"

!"

"Good to see you, too. Now hold still while I—"

"Perrrrrcy!" Grover bleated and tackled me with a goat-hug. "You heard me! You came!"

"Yeah, buddy," I said. "Of course, I came."

"Where's Annabeth?"

"Outside," I said. "But there's no time to talk. Clarisse, hold still."

I uncapped Riptide and sliced off her ropes. She stood stiffly, rubbing her wrist. She glared at me for a moment, then looked down at the ground and mumbled, "Thanks."

"You're welcome," I said. "Now, was anyone else on board your lifeboat?"

Clarisse looked surprised. "No. Just me. Everybody else aboard the Birmingham… well, I didn't even know if Annabeth made it out, and I thought Scylla might of ate you since I didn't see you."

"I sprayed skunk stink directly at Scylla's face the moment I was close enough," I said, trying t hide the fact that my last hope of seeing Tyson alive had just been crushed.

Grover made a face. "Dangerous, but effective. Even satyrs cannot stand the smell of skunk spray. Especially directly in the face."

"Come on. We have to help—"

An explosion echoed through the cave, followed by a scream that told me we might be too late. It was Annabeth crying out in fear.