"Gah!"
Percy gasped in pain as something heavy landed on his stomach. He shoved the mysterious object off of his chest and rubbed his eyes groggily. "What the Hades?" The object that rudely woke Percy happened to be a small cardboard box- one of many, many cardboard boxes surrounding him.
Percy found himself in what must have been a cargo room. Boxes and bags were piled along the walls, some balanced precariously on the tops of towers and others suspiciously chained to the cold metal walls boxing Percy in. One lantern hung from the ceiling, swaying in a hypnotic fashion and throwing shadows around the cramped room. Percy pushed himself up into a seated position, leaning against the large bag behind him.
Man, you betray a monster's trust one time, Percy scoffed to himself. I've gone from fuzzy blankets to metal floors. Percy closed his eyes and sighed. His head ached, but the gentle swaying of the room helped him to think- which was a good and a bad thing. He was worried- worried about Camp Half-Blood, worried about his friends, wherever they were. Percy prayed silently to the gods that they somehow survived. He wanted to be with them; he wanted to protect them. Now, they were in trouble and he was located at 45 degrees North, -60 degrees East heading southwest at a speed of 50 knots.
Percy's eyes snapped open. There was only one way he could know that. He was at sea. He was at sea and sailing straight for Camp Half-Blood at a speed fast enough to reach it in one day.
"Gods," Percy moaned, leaning forward so that his elbows rested on his knees and the palms of his hands dug into his eyes. "How am I going to fix this?" Their quest had failed. Percy had promised to kill a demigod, and if the monsters gave him more Hyde, the damage could be catastrophic.
And that's exactly why Percy had to put a stop to it. Sitting here isn't going to change anything, Percy chided himself. I still have time. The first thing Percy had to do was figure out where on the ship he was. Reaching forward, Percy grabbed the box that had landed on him earlier, turning it roughly around to find the opening. It had probably slipped off one of the stacks while Percy was unconscious.
"What could they possibly-" Percy stopped short when he was face-to-face with a giant, splotchy red word painted on the side of the box: "Explosives."
Percy stifled the urge to chuck the box as far away from himself as possible. Instead, he gently set it on the ground and used his foot to softly slide it away. Then, he turned around and unzipped the duffel bag behind him. Inside were dozens of axes and swords, stuffing the bag to the brim. Percy turned over a few more boxes- cautiously, of course- and his heart rate escalated; he discovered more and more menacing red labels: "Poison," "Bombs," and "Extra-Nasty Dynamite Sticks," to name a few.
An idea struck Percy, and he laughed coldly. They had stored their "secret weapon" with all the other weapons; Percy had been demoted to an object instead of a prisoner. Looking around, Percy noticed that the room had no portholes, making the room eerily dark with only the swaying lantern to provide any light, and only one door, which looked dented and suspiciously burned on the bottom from who knew what.
"I need to get out of here," Percy mumbled, and he hurriedly crossed the room and yanked on the handle. It was locked, of course. After three more useless attempts, Percy dug around in his pockets for Riptide, uncapped the sword, and jabbed it in between the door's edge and the doorframe, sliding it down and hacking at the lock. After a few tough swipes, the door broke open, and Percy swung it wide open…
…and found himself face-to-face with the very Minotaur he killed about 6 years ago.
"Uh," Percy stated eloquently, and he tried to fling the warped metal door shut again; the beast's giant hand shot out, but Percy caught his furry wrist by jamming it between the door and doorframe. Even so, the minotaur managed to snag Percy by the back collar of his black shirt, and with a grunt, he pulled both his own overbuilt arm and Percy out of the cargo room, carrying the half-blood like a lion carries a cub.
"Watch it!" Percy yelped as he hung by his shirt collar, one hand clinging to the clothing to keep himself from choking and the other wildly swinging Riptide around. "Put me down!"
The Minotaur growled at Percy and simply carried the flailing demigod towards a metal ladder located a couple yards away. Percy looked around, trying to get his bearings. They were walking along a wide balcony ringing the ship, most likely around the second floor since there was a shiny metal ceiling above. The door to the cargo room was one of many doors lining the walkway on Percy's left, and to his right- a vast expanse of shimmering ocean, maliciously slapping the sides of the boat like a cat smacking its toy. The sun was nearing the horizon, preparing to slowly dip down into the sea in an brilliant array of orange, pink, and purple- but until then, it made sure to send its bright beams of light bouncing off the metallic boat and into Percy's eyes.
He shut his eyes tight to keep from going blind, but quickly forgot about the sunlight when he felt the salty air rustle his dark, messy hair. Percy took a deep, soothing breath. He felt more awake, more alive out on the ocean- yet here he was, captured and helpless. The sea does not like to be restrained, Percy thought to himself, remembering his father's all-too-true words from a few years back.
"So Mr. Minotaur," Percy piped up, still swinging as the Minotaur climbed one-handed up the ladder through a hole in the metallic ceiling, his hopping gait making Percy's shirt collar choke him after each step. "I take it this is the ocean division of the monster army? The one Callisthenes and I were supposed to lead? Say, now that Callisthenes is, uh, out of commission, am I in charge? Can I-"
The Minotaur snarled menacingly at Percy, shutting him up. I didn't think so, Percy answered himself. The Minotaur finally hauled himself and Percy up through the opening and chucked Percy a few feet away, where the demigod rubbed gingerly at his throat. However, as Percy looked around, he forgot the burning sensation the choking shirt collar had left on his neck.
"Wow," breathed Percy.
Now, the ship may've belonged to the monsters, but man, was it a beauty. Percy's magical knowledge of all things sea-faring told him that this was a Man O' War, with three looming masts adorned with gleaming white rectangular sails and hundreds of dark ropes tying everything down securely. There looked to be three levels of deck, and Percy was seated on the lowest one near the bow, or front, of the ship. Most designs of Man O' War ships lacked balconies like the one Percy had just come from, but the monsters had modernized this model so that the first floor below deck opened out into a balcony that ran along either flank of the ship. Overall, the monsters' vessel looked like a pirate ship, but there was one feature that stood out even more than its enormous size: it was all made of a silver metal. The floors, railings, and masts shone in the setting sunlight, and Percy guessed that the light-weight metal of the boat was similar to that of a cruise ship- a shiver ran through him as the memory of the Princess Andromeda popped into his mind- and made the boat sailable. Personally, Percy preferred the pirate-like design to the luxury liner, but he knew what that certain design meant- rows of gundecks and cannons ready to fire at Camp Half-Blood upon arrival.
Breaking up the monotony of silver glaring back at Percy were monsters of all shapes and sizes milling about the decks- some sporting full armor, others sipping frilly drinks and leaning on the ship's black railing. Closest to himself, the Minotaur, and the trapdoor through which they'd climbed up onto the deck were a couple of Telekhines, barking orders at each other and carrying some wooden planks between them. One of the taller ones caught Percy's eye and snarled menacingly, so Percy turned his gaze upwards. Perched above him on the ropes stretched taught from the foremast to the side of the ship were numerous Stymphalian birds, crazed eyes staring back down. Percy gulped, remembering the time they had attacked the charioteers racing back at Camp Half-Blood. Not an experience he wanted to relive.
Farther back on the sip, skidding around the quarterdeck, was Orthus, Geryon's two-headed dog. Percy's mind flash-backed to Geryon's ranch, where he had cleaned out the flesh-eating horses' stables in return for his friends' freedom. Luckily, Orthus had not attacked the demigods then, but he had no owner here to hold him back. Brushing by the two-headed dog were Empousai, Draconae, Cyclops, and so many more monsters that Percy had never even seen before. The silver of the decks and the dark wooden trapdoors spaced every 20 yards- leading down to various levels of the ship- could barely be seen underneath the mass of claws, hooves, and gnarly feet stomping about. The poop deck, which made up the third and highest deck of the ship, was occupied by big ol' blue Bonoas, who seemed to be stationed at the ship's wheel, heaving it sharply to the side to counteract a rough wave that had just slammed into the ship.
A loud creak rang out across the decks, and from the wall beneath the poop deck that held the open entrance to the Captain's Quarters, Aralus appeared in full armor.
"Well, if it isn't the man of the hour- Perseus Jackson," the red Giant snarled, crossing the quarter deck as the monsters hurried to clear a path. Aralus made his way over to the foremast and stood next to the Minotaur.
"Aralus, nice to see you again," Percy remarked casually, brushing off his black hoodie and standing up to face the giant. "Oh! I want you to know that I really appreciated my room upgrade. Cold floors, minimum light- first class, I can tell. However, I may have to file a complaint about falling explosives."
Aralus laughed- without humor. "That's what happens when you go back on your word, half-blood!" He flung his iron-clad arms wide, gesturing grandly at the massive ship. "Welcome aboard the S. S. Tartarus, our vessel of victory and your prison. Forterae had our Telekhines and Empousai make you a special welcoming gift."
Percy gasped as something cold and heavy clamped around his thinning waist- he hadn't eaten anything in over twenty-four hours, and even though he'd had quite the feast before the Opening Ceremony in Forterae's conference hall, the past few days had been scarce food-wise. Percy looked down in surprise to find a giant iron band circling his torso, and behind it trailed a long chain, winding all over the floor and up, up... into the gloved hands of the regal Forterae herself.
"What-"
"After the little fiasco at the Ceremony, you think we would let you roam the ship loose? We are not idiots, Perseus," Forterae explained, her expression sinister. She crossed over to the foremast and wrapped the dark, cold chains repeatedly around the mast, tying them securely and locking them with an obnoxiously large padlock. She gave a humph of satisfaction and cast a fuming glance at Percy.
"You are the son of Poseidon, after all. You cannot be trusted- especially at sea."
The chains had enough leeway to allow Percy a ten-yard radius in all directions around the mast, but no more. Percy simply glared right back at Forterae and Aralus before reaching into his pocket and yanking out Riptide, uncapping the pen and taking a frustrated swipe at the chains.
Nothing.
Percy faltered. Then, with a shake of his head, he lifted the blade again and stabbed down. The blade slide down the metal link as if it was coated in oil. Not a scratch was left on the links.
Aralus laughed at Percy's pathetic attempts to cut the chains, and he nodded to the Minotaur, who stomped over to Percy. The bull-man grabbed Percy's sword arm with an unyielding grip, snatched Riptide by the blade, and tugged it away from Percy. Turning towards the railing of the S. S. Tartarus, the Minotaur chucked the sword overboard. Blood dripped from the monster's hand, but he didn't seem to care. Percy stared in disgust and disbelief at the Minotaur's bleeding hand. These monsters will stop at nothing to please the Giants, Percy realized, watching the monster wipe the blood off on his fur.
As the Minotaur trudged back to the giants, Percy called out, "You know the sword'll just come back, right?"
Forterae rolled her eyes at the demigod and scoffed in a low voice, "It does not matter. Your celestial bronze cannot cut through Stygian iron."
Stygian iron? Percy thought, a sense of dread settling in his stomach. Didn't Nico say something about it cutting through the mind as well as the body- some weird Hades voodoo like that? He worried that this iron band could be more than just a leash.
"We'll leave you be," Forterae finished, heading towards Bonoas at the back of the ship. "Every monster on board the S.S. Tartarus has been ordered to ignore you, so do not bother trying to find help here. You will find no friends, no monster willing to help a treacherous little rat like yourself." Percy narrowed his eyes at the Giant.
"I will always defend those who have earned my trust. Did you actually think I would turn against my friends?" Percy called after her retreating form, and she paused, turning to glance at the chained demigod once more.
"I fooled myself into thinking you truly understood our cause, Perseus. But alas, you are just as ignorant as the rest of them. I am not surprised." She whipped back around and stormed off, the Minotaur following her lead, but Aralus stayed behind. His meaty fist grasped the chain and pulled Percy closer, snarling in Percy's face and letting his spittle spatter the demigod's nose. "I may not be allowed to kill you, under Forterae's orders, but she said nothing about a little maiming." Before Percy could even react, Aralus brandished his dagger and cut a clean slice right above Percy's left eyebrow, letting the red blood trickle down around his eye.
"Aralus!" chided Forterae, and the red giant shoved Percy down hard on to the deck before grumbling after his comrades. "By the way," added Aralus over his shoulder. "The iron stifles your powers- healing, water, earthquakes, blood-bending, all of it. Any attempts to drown the lot of us are futile." With that crushing reveal, he sauntered off across the deck and locked himself back in the Captain's Quarters. Everything was still for a moment- the monsters, the wind, the waves- but the hustle and bustle of ship life returned as quickly as it had left. Percy crawled dejectedly towards the foremast and sat with his back against the icy silver metal. He tried to wipe away the blood slowly dripping down his forehead and eye, but he did little more than smear it across the left side of his face.
Percy felt vulnerable. He was unarmed and tethered to the mast by unbreakable chains; he had no plan and no options. His head throbbed and his heart ached, but it was more than simple self-pity. Percy felt tense, like every muscle in his body was being electrocuted- a feeling he was all too familiar with, thanks to the Grace siblings. His hands began to tremble, and he felt a bubble of panic wedge itself inside of him, fragile and ready to pop at any moment. What's happening to me? Percy cried inwardly. He had never felt like this before, or if he had, never this strongly.
He wanted to leave the ship.
No, he wanted to jump off the ship and into the water.
The water. Percy wanted the water. He needed the water. The sea does not like to be restrained, Percy thought again to himself. He stared out at the sea, the sun's colors reflecting off the waves, rapidly fading to blues and purples as it descended farther beyond the horizon. I am part of the sea, Percy thought. I am the sea, and I do not like to be restrained.
Percy's eyebrows furrowed, and a determined grimace spread across his face. I do not like to be restrained.
Suddenly, Percy leapt to his feet and sprinted away from the metal mast, heading directly for the railing lining the edge of the deck. The sea, Percy thought, his mind blank expect for those few words. Please, let me reach the sea! The Stygian iron chain tugged taught, and Percy was wrenched backwards so hard that he toppled over, hitting the deck for the second time.
The knock to the floor seemed to bring him to his senses. Was that some sort of panic attack? Percy wondered, sitting up but not returning to the mast. Percy had been captured and tied up before, and he had never reacted like that. Why now? Why were his emotions so... amplified?
Monsters passed him by on their way to knot the ropes or polish the weaponry, casting countless dirty glances at Percy as they did so, but none stopped to say anything. They walked around him like he was just a mud puddle in their path. One Empousai nearly slipped as her uneven legs scrambled to steer her out of the son of Poseidon's space. Percy didn't move out of her way.
Percy closed his eyes and felt the ocean's rhythmic swaying underneath the S. S. Tartarus, rocking the hull back and forth. He felt it calling to him, drawing him closer, begging him to join the sea- but he couldn't. He was trapped. He was so close to the ocean, but he couldn't reach it. It was like the ocean was a magnet, and he was a scrap of metal- the ocean was trying to drag him into its depths, wrap him in the currents, comfort him in the endless waves.
But Percy couldn't.
This feeling of belonging in the sea was not entirely unfamiliar. Percy felt it in little doses whenever he went to the beach or stretched on the sands of Long Island Sound. Before now, he had written it off as a peaceful desire, just his enjoyment of the sea. In this moment, though, everything clicked. Being the son of Poseidon, he was drawn to the ocean, and most of the time it wasn't hard to find a way to connect with the water. He lived next to the Atlantic Ocean. He had a little fountain in his room. He almost always had access to water- in the ground, in the pipes, even in the air. Water was always everywhere, calling to him. Even when he resisted its call, it was of his own free will. Now, Percy had no choice. He was prisoner in his own realm, and his mind didn't know how to cope. The Stygian iron was repressing his ability to connect with the sea, making him even more desperate for freedom.
"It's a torture device," Percy mumbled under his breath, placing a shaking hand on the icy iron band. Not only was the Stygian iron affecting his powers, it was affecting his soul. What was it that Nico had told him? Stygian iron absorbs the essence of a monster? It'd explain why Forterae wore gloves when handling the chains, at least. But how would it affect a demigod? Maybe it's messing with my core; Dr. Derideo said my powers are already unstable, so this must be aggravating them. The simultaneous increase and oppression of his powers were screwing with his mind.
"Deep breath," Percy told himself, taking in a large gasp of salty sea air and releasing it ever so slowly. He awkwardly stood up- it was hard to maneuver with a giant iron band wrapping around your torso- and dragged himself and the heavy chain back towards the foremast. Two Dracanae slithered by, and one pointed to the trailing chain while whispering into the other one's ear. They both hissed, and the closer one lashed out with a scaly leg and caught the chain, tripping Percy. They giggled and stuck their forked tongues out at the downed demigod before slinking away towards a ladder leading up to the quarterdeck.
Feels like middle school again, groaned Percy, pulling himself into a seated position against the mast. He felt a weird combination of fatigue, anxiety, and restlessness. In a simple word- uncomfortable. I just need to... to calm down. Focus on something besides the sea.
To Percy's right, he could see the front of the ship, with a sharp black pole jutting out from the front of the hull. Displayed halfway down the pole, a flag buffeted in the wind, showcasing a black and white snake, wrapped around and preparing to bite a skull.
Percy shivered. Yikes. Above him, the Stymphalian Birds sat on the foresail and fore topsail and stared, each one cocking its head sporadically and twitching, silhouetted against a purple and blue sky. They could barely resist the urge to swoop down at scratch Percy's eyes out. Only the Giants' orders kept them at bay.
A jolt ran down Percy's back and he gasped in pain, grabbing the iron clasp and pushing it off of him in a desperate attempt to relieve the stifling pain it shot through his chest. "What the Hades?" he growled, sucking in his stomach in a quick attempt to get the horrible chain off of him. His hands stung at the cold where he touched the Stygian iron, so he tugged his hands into his hoodie and held the iron off that way. He could feel it draining him, suppressing his power and packing it into a tiny box, getting smaller and tighter and fiercer and stronger and-
"Stop," Percy panted, slowly releasing the chain's band. There was nothing he could do now except ignore it. He just had to hold out until they reached Camp Half-Blood.
Find something new, Percy reminded himself. He scanned the S. S. Tartarus, taking in the looming white sails, the silver floors and masts, the dark, withering ropes, the monsters pacing the decks, Bonoas steering on the other end of the ship with Forterae by his side. For some reason, all those monsters weren't really comforting him.
Off in the distance, Percy spotted something bobbing on the horizon. It looked like a little fisherman's boat, probably hoping to catch more fish in the deeper sea. Percy watched its calming path, slowly sailing closer and closer. He tried to ignore the call of the ocean and just focus on the little boat. I wonder what they think of the S. S. Tartarus, Percy thought, grinning in amusement. Its not everyday you set sail for some fish and catch a silver pirate ship.
"Target spotted!" a monster shouted excitedly from the crow's nest at the top of the center mast. The monsters below roared and squawked and growled eagerly in reply, then proceeded to run about the decks in a bustle of business. A dozen of them crowded the trapdoors and climbed down the hatches belowdeck, while a good half of the monsters left on deck ran to the starboard railing on Percy's right, leaning over and pointing at the fishermen's tiny boat.
Target? thought Percy, shakily standing up. The Stygian iron was exhausting him, but Percy tried to shrug it off.
"Monsters!" Forterae announced, cupping her hands around her mouth like a megaphone in order to grab every monster's attention. "A target has been spotted! Let us make sure our cannons work, shall we?"
The hordes of scaly, furry, and slimy beings cheered in approval, pumping their fists and whistling. Aralus re-emerged from the captain's quarters to join the chaos. Percy could feel a rumbling from below, making the upper deck vibrate as the noise echoed up from underneath the silver planks. The sound rolled from the center of the ship to the starboard hull, making the ship tilt slightly to the right as the combined weight of the monsters and whatever was going on below gathered on that one side.
"The cannons," Percy gasped, and he scrambled forward, trying to join everyone by the railing. "They're preparing the cannons. They're going to shoot the fishermen."
"Wait!" Percy yelled, reaching out to any monster that he could, trying to grab his or her attention. "Stop! That boat is carrying mortals; you can't fire!"
"Perseus Jackson!" boomed Aralus, who sauntered smugly over to the chained demigod. "Do you remember what Forterae told you yesterday? Take this as a reminder that monsters take their threats seriously."
"What are you talking about?" Percy yelled in exasperation. "This is different. That boat is carrying innocent mortals; you can't shoot it."
"Why?"
"They'll die!"
"That, little half-blood, is the point," someone responded from behind Percy. He whipped around to find Forterae standing tall, arms held behind her back in a very regal manner. "Shall I remind you of our conversation from yesterday? I warned you that any attempt at mutiny would result in your imprisonment and the slaughtering of any and every human we come across on the voyage."
A thud thundered around the boat as the cannons were locked into place. The ocean roared beneath them, either protesting the upcoming execution or supporting it. Percy wasn't sure.
I have to do something. With a yell of defiance, Percy gripped the large black chain with both hands and yanked for all he was worth.
Nothing.
They'll die.
"Ready," Aralus began, raising his bulky arm above his head, signaling for the monsters to await his approval.
They'll die.
"Stop! This is wrong!" Percy screamed. Aralus showed no sign of hearing Percy's words, but a few Telekhines shifted uncomfortably next to Percy. He was getting through to them. At least some monsters here have morals, he thought thankfully to himself.
"Please," he turned to the monsters, reaching out a hand. They scrambled away, so Percy retracted his approach. "Please, he repeated softly. "You know those fishermen don't deserve it."
One of the seals looked into Percy's eyes, as if searching for a clue.
They'll die.
The Telekhine nodded in approval. He turned to Aralus and barked, "Sir, maybe we shouldn't-"
"Shut up!" roared Aralus, and the giant shot the Telekhine a glare so ferocious that the monsters sniveled in fear and sped away, hiding behind the mast.
They'll die.
"Set," continued the giant, closing his fist with his arm still raised above his head.
Percy's heart beat accelerated, and every thump of his heart whispered those two same words.
They'll die.
He had to do something.
They'll die.
He was about to watch a fishermen's boat smashed to itty bitty pieces; the monsters were too cowardly to stand up against Aralus; Percy was powerless to help.
"No," Percy whispered. "No powers, but I'm not powerless." Tapping his pocket, he let out a relieved sigh when he felt Riptide's familiar form safely tucked away. Percy shoved his hand into his pocket, and with a tug, click, and shink, the ancient bronze blade was ready for battle.
Aralus tensed, preparing to release the cannons. Percy's sword arm swung back before launching Riptide forward, spinning blade over hilt, until it firmly lodged itself in Aralus's bicep.
"GARGH!" roared Aralus, dropping the signal and yanking the weapon out of his arm. He took one look and recognized Percy's sword, sent a deadly glare at the demigod, and chucked it right back at him.
Percy ducked just as it flew over his head and impaled the mast behind him, as if it was a regular mast made out of wood, not silver.
"HOLD YOUR FIRE!" Aralus screamed, stomping over to Percy and shoving the demigod against the mast, Riptide still sticking out inches above Percy's head.
"We warned you what would happen if you committed treason before. And now," he snarled, "now you've gone too far."
"You can't kill them!" Percy spat defiantly. "They aren't even in the ship's path! You can't kill mortals."
"Why do you care?" Aralus growled. He grabbed Percy's right arm and pinned it against the mast. "You do not know them. They are nobody. They are not important."
Percy's eyes narrowed. "Everybody. Is. Important."
"Well, if everybody is important," laughed Aralus cynically, "that would include me- especially since I am your superior." He yanked Percy's chain forward, pulling him off the mast and lifting him ever so slightly, so that just the toes of his beat-up sneakers brushed the deck.
"And you should never assault and defy your superior." Monsters silently gathered around the demigod and Giant, watching with wide eyes- some looked hungry for blood, and others...others looked afraid. Afraid of Aralus. Afraid of Percy.
Aralus' grip on Percy's right arm tightened, and he began to bend it back.
Percy yelled in pain, wrenching his arm first then his whole body as he tried to wriggle out of Aralus's hands. He screamed. The giant bent his arm more and more until-
SNAP.
Percy let out a howl of pain. Aralus grinned at seeing the son of Poseidon so helpless. Percy glanced at his broken arm. His upper arm bone- humurus, his agonized brain reminded him- had been broken. Luckily it didn't stick out of the skin or anything too gruesome like that, but Damn did it hurt.
Percy's breaths came in short gasps. Percy had felt pain in all different shapes and forms, and he knew that a broken arm wasn't the worst thing he'd ever faced, but that didn't stop the pain.
"ARALUS!" boomed a female voice, and Forterae stormed across the decks, not waiting for the monster soldiers to scramble out of the way and kicking a few of them as a result, and punched her comrade's shoulder.
"Drop him."
Aralus did, letting the Stygian iron chain clank obnoxiously to the deck while Percy clinged gingerly to his broken arm.
Before Aralus could begin to explain, Forterae yelled, "He is our weapon. We need him in top condition for the battle, and you just broke his sword-arm."
Forterae looked around at the masses of monsters watching in anticipation- or maybe it was fear? The sun's fading rays were finally extinguished as the ocean swallowed it on the horizon, painting the sky and thin clouds in deep blues and purples. The fishermen's boat drifted away, a fish forgotten and freed from the hook of the fishing line.
"I will not tolerate any mutiny aboard this vessel," Forterae proclaimed. "Not from any demigods, and not from any monsters. Unfortunately, I cannot kill Perseus... yet. You-"
She pointed a gloved finger at Percy, who was sitting on the deck and cradling his broken arm. "You are not allowed to speak to any monster on the S.S. Tartarus unless they address you first. If you try to defy me again, I will personally dissect your girlfriend in front of your bleeding eyes, and I will make certain that you never experience anything remotely similar to joy ever again. As you can see," Forterae gestured out towards the fishermen, "I take my threats very seriously, and you should heed them with caution. I loathe you, and the only reason your limp body isn't hanging from the figurehead of this ship is because I still need you. One false step and I may just end this entire voyage just to have the satisfaction of watching you die. Is. That. Clear?"
Percy nodded solemnly.
"Well," Forterae turned to the crowd of scales, fur, and leathery monsters with an exasperated sigh. "We've missed our chance in regards to shooting those mortals, but keep an eye out for another ship. I will not miss the second time. Debilis!"
The whimpering Telekhine that had spoken out against Aralus slowly crept out of his hiding place behind the mast. "Y-Yes?"
Forterae snapped her fingers, and Aralus snatched the seal/dog/beast in his giant red fist.
"Let this teach the rest of you not to help this wretched boy in any way. Aralus, dispose of him."
Debilis barked a word that was lost in the wind as Aralus chucked the monster off the ship. All eyes were trained to the Telekhine as he tumbled through the air before splashing into the ocean with messy crash.
Nobody spoke.
Forterae glanced down at her injured prisoner. "Take him to the Sickbay and fix his arm. Now."
A Cyclops broke through the masses of monsters and approached Percy. He was wearing a simple black tank top that showed off his bulging muscles. He had a tool belt filled with first aid supplies tied carefully around his waist, and his single eye looked old and experienced.
Wordlessly, the Cyclops grabbed Percy's left, uninjured arm and pulled him to his feet before turning to Forterae. "He won't be able to heal with the Stygian Iron on. It prevents his healing abilities. Could we-?"
Forterae mumbled something under her breath, but she took out a black key from a hidden pocket in her armored pants and unlocked the clasp. The moment it dropped around Percy's feet, Percy gasped in relief. His mind sharpened, his senses jumped into hyperdrive, his vision cleared. He took a deep breath and let it out with a slight laugh. He hadn't realized how tense and pained the Stygian Iron made him until the curse of its metal had been lifted.
The Cyclops nodded in approval and pushed Percy towards the hatch that he had entered earlier that day with the Minotaur.
"Remember what I told you, Perseus. Think before you act," Forterae warned him.
The Cyclops opened the hatch with a grunt and gestured for Percy to climb down the ladder first. Percy did, albeit slowly; he did only have one working arm at the moment. The Cyclops followed closely behind shutting the hatch after himself. The pathway that Percy had stood on an hour before looked completely different in the evening light. No sunlight was glaring off the metal walls and floor. No salty wind lashed at his hair and face this time, as if the breeze had decided it was time to sleep.
"It's the farthest door," the Cyclops informed Percy, and together they followed the ship's railing down towards the aforementioned door.
"So-" Percy began, but the Cyclops hushed him.
"Not until we are inside. Not until Forterae and Aralus cannot hear you."
Dr. Cyclops- Percy assumed he was a doctor, given the first aid supplies- grabbed the brass knob with his meaty, surprisingly scarred hand and shoved the door open. He reached in and lit a lantern that was hooked on the wall, shining a dim orange light into the . The Cyclops turned to lock the door as Percy squeezed past and climbed up on to the patient's table. The Sickbay looked like a typical Doctor's office: cramped, clean, and quiet. It was made up of two rooms, the first being the main medical quarters and the second being a bathroom with a sink, toilet, and abnormally large shower.
To fit those Minotaurs and Laistrogonians, Percy realized. He shifted uncomfortably on the thin paper strip laying over the pale blue patient's table. Across from him was a mirror surrounded by wooden cabinets, all locked shut with loads of little padlocks. The metal counter and drawers beneath it were just as securely guarded. Percy looked at his reflection. His hair was messy and stood up on the right side, matted with blood. The cut above his eyebrow was still bright red, and dried blood marked his forehead like baby Simba from the Lion King.
The Cyclops took a seat on the lone stool next to Percy, causing the old, worn-out wood to squeak under the monster's weight. He reached out toward's Percy's broken arm, which the demigod still cradled delicately. Percy winced when the Cyclops' sausage-like fingers tapped the wound.
The Cyclops held up his other hand to silence Percy, who was busy biting his lip to hold back his cries. Another prod from the Cyclops, another gasp from Percy.
"Hold still," the Cyclops ordered, gently holding the arm up to his one brown eye that looked as if it had seen things Percy couldn't even imagine. Where has this Cyclops been? Percy wondered. What has he seen?
"So," began Percy, eyeing the monster's awkward medical procedure. "Where did you get your medical degree?"
"Monsters University," the monster answered, shooting a questioning glance at Percy.
"Wait, really?" laughed Percy. "That exists?"
"Oh yea, Mike and Sully were my roommates- No, it doesn't exist," scoffed the Cyclops, rolling his eye. "Honestly, with how much Tyson praises you and all of your accomplishments, I thought you'd be smarter."
"Well excuse me for believing in a monster's education," Percy defended, wincing as he lifted up his hands in mock surrender. Then, he asked, "You know Tyson? Did you work in Poseidon's Forges?"
"Up until recently, yes. Stationed there for 87 years; worked in the medical field there as well. I've treated more burns than you've ever seen. Tyson in particular shows up often- although half of the time it's just to chat and share a peanut butter sandwich with me." The Cyclops laughed. "Good kid, that Tyson."
"Yea, he is," smiled Percy. "I owe a lot to him." Glancing down at his broken arm, Percy added softly, "He deserves a better brother than me."
The medic gave Percy a dubious look.
"What?" Percy responded, furrowing his eyebrows.
The Cyclops didn't answer right away. He stood and crossed the room, unlocking one of the lower cabinets, and with a clink the padlock opened. He grabbed a tiny container of grape-smelling goo.
Giving up on waiting for an answer, Percy followed his question up with, "Why are you here? Why did you join Forterae and her goons?"
"I didn't join Forterae." The Cyclops returned to his private stool and uncapped the container, dipping one finger into the mix. "I joined Vinomi." The Cyclops spread the fruit-scented medicine on Percy's upper arm.
Percy sucked in a sharp gasp. Then, a cooling sensation spread up and down his arm, and he let out a slow sigh of relief. He really does know his stuff, Percy thought. "I've heard the name Vinomi a few times. Who is he? What does he want?"
"Vinomi is a monster of a breed all his own. He stands twice as tall as Forterae or Bonoas or any of her brothers- whom I've heard you killed. Impressive," mused the Cyclops.
"Is that a grudging respect I hear?"
"Guess again, Perseus. You demigods have big enough egos already." He capped the container and stood once again. "Vinomi is often forgotten in myths because whoever he touches goes insane. Anybody that lives afterwards can't be understood through all of their screaming."
Percy whistled. "Yikes."
"'Yikes' is right. He has talons dripping with thin, sticky poison. One scratch and the pain is unbearable. His victims don't die from it, but the pain is enough to make them wish for death."
"Is there a cure?" Percy asked, a chill running through his body. That... that thing was on this boat. That thing was headed straight for Camp Half-Blood.
The Cyclops shook his head 'no.' He took a few lumbering steps over to his cabinets, pausing in front of the mirror. He heaved a great sigh, gazing at his one-eyed reflection. "I don't agree with his methods, but I agree with his motivation."
Percy slid off of the patient's table, bending his elbow with care. It hurt, but the pain had eased up a bit. "Vinomi wants to kill all the half-bloods because we're killing all of his monsters. Sort of a...taste of our own medicine thing, right?"
The Cyclops shut the cabinet, locking the padlock "...correct."
"And, in all honesty, I get it. We kill first and ask questions later and- and that's wrong."
"Then you understand why this battle is necessary." The Cyclops returned to Percy's side, examining the arm once again and purposefully not looking Percy in the eyes.
"Well, no. I don't think it is."
The Cyclops shot him a questioning glance. The paste on Percy's arm was beginning to burn, but Percy tried to ignore it.
"You see, if the monsters attack Camp Half-Blood, then both people and monsters are going to die. I can tell you now that you will not be able to kill every single demigod, and those who are left will never rest until they avenge the others. Trust me. The cycle will never end. War leads to more war."
Percy subconsciously took Riptide out of his pocket, twirling it delicately in his fingers. The Cyclops stared suspiciously at the pen in his hand but remained silent. "I admit, I used to think that the only way to win peace was to kill the monsters. I thought you were, uh, mindless, I guess. I never thought about your lives, really. I killed...a lot. When I was in Tartarus, I had to face the facts. It was wrong. I was wrong. I saw so many monsters that I had sentenced to time in Tartarus, and- and I wouldn't wish that upon anyone. I met the Arai, and I felt the monsters' pain, their wounds. I..." Percy trailed off, eyes distant and distracted.
The Cyclops was surprised to see the horror hidden in those deep sea-green eyes. What sort of things has this boy seen? the Cyclops thought to himself.
Percy blinked and shook his head, bringing his attention back to the present. "I realized that the only way any sort of balance can be reached is through a compromise."
The Cyclops laughed. "And how do you suppose we do that? Monsters and demigods working under a treaty? Impossible. Look back through history, Perseus. We have never been able to work together."
"No, no, don't you see?" Percy turned to look the Cyclops right in eye. "It has happened. It is possible! Tyson, for example. He and Camp Half-Blood are completely fine. Ella the Harpy, too. Bob the Giant-"
"Who?"
"Iepatus, sorry. Iepatus helped Annabeth and I, and he didn't have to. I owe him my life." Percy grabbed the Cyclops shoulder with his uninjured arm, full of hope. "We don't have to fight anymore. It is possible to find peace. Think of how many lives- demigods and monsters- will be saved."
"Percy," the Cyclops began, lightly dragging Percy's arm off of his shoulder. Percy noticed a scar running around the Cyclops wrist and briefly wondered wear it came from. "Violence is inevitable. How long would a peace treaty last in this world? One false step, and it goes up in flames. Aralus would never agree. Vinomi would laugh in your face and kill you on the spot."
Percy's eyebrows furrowed. "I refuse to believe that. Nobody wants to die; nobody wants anymore death."
"Vinomi does. He thrives on death."
"Well, then Vinomi and I need to have a chat."
"No."
The Cyclops grabbed Percy this time- the wrong shoulder, making Percy wince. "Do not talk to Vinomi. He is unreasonable. You will be killed. Please, just...I don't want to see anybody cut by his talons. The after-effects..." The Cyclops closed his eye. "No monster nor demigod should ever experience that."
Suddenly, the Cyclops opened his eye and let go of Percy's arm. He clapped his hands together and declared, "Your upper arm is broken," as if reminding himself of why they were here.
Percy choked out a dry laugh. "Gee thanks, I had no idea."
"I'll give you a square of ambrosia to eat, and if you spend fifteen minutes or so in that shower, the water will heal you right up- no funny business with the water, or I will be forced to kill you."
"Ha, ha," Percy laughed, but he quickly stopped when he saw the Cyclops' expression. "Oh. Yea, okay. No funny business."
Percy headed over to the bathroom section of the Sickbay, and as he shut the door, he caught a glimpse of the Cyclops eyeing that scar on his wrist with a faraway look. Percy wondered again how the Cyclops got it. There's a story behind every scar- Percy would know- but something told Percy the Cyclops' story wouldn't be one he'd be willing to share.
Geez Louise, this is long- and I had planned to make it even longer. However, you all have waited way too long for a new chapter, so here you go! I know, I know, I am inexcusably late. I have no excuse. I will try to be better about posting sooner. The rest of the story has been planned, and I have a pretty clear idea of the next chapter, so it shouldn't be obnoxiously long before I upload it.
Thanks for waiting- Enjoy!