Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or Camp Half-Blood or mythology. Rick does. Well, at least the characters and Camp Half-Blood.

Chapter 9

Percy's dream was a little different this time. Instead of fading to black after his mother's death, he was standing on Half-Blood Hill. Except there was something wrong with it.

Half-Blood Hill should have been a regular, grassy hill, but next to where he stood rose a massive tree. It looked like an ash tree. He looked down into the valley. Camp Half-Blood looked about as healthy and lively as he'd ever seen it. It was day time, and kids were running back and forth. But they didn't look like they were having fun. They were running toward the forest where they usually played capture the flag.

Someone yelled at him from the Big House: "Come on, Percy! We gotta go!"

Looking down, he saw Annabeth, the daughter of Athena, waving at him. She ran off. Not long after, there was a sudden explosion from inside the forest. There were panicked screams from campers. He ran down the hill and into the forest. By the time he got down there, a fire had started. Fiery flames fed off the dry bark of the dryads' trees. Many of them were trying to put them out. Some were burning. He willed the creek to rise and put out the fire, and a huge wave of water washed through the forest.

He kept running until he found himself at Zeus' Fist, where the dead bodies of dozens of campers lay spread out around the whole area. There were piles of dust spread around. Monsters had invaded camp. There were destroyed catapults, bent and dented armour. He looked down and saw the half-burned face of Clarisse, her expression full of surprise. A spear sprouted from her chest.

"Percy!" Luke voice shouted from somewhere back in the forest.

The son of Poseidon ran toward the voice until he found the son of Hermes sitting on a rock in the shade along the creek. Percy paused when he saw a double of himself walking slowly toward Luke. He realized that he was re-living a moment a couple days ago when he and Luke met about placing a spy in the camp.

"Percy!" Luke shouted again. "This is not a joke!"

"I never said it was," Percy's double said. "I'm just saying that you can't be a spy for Kronos. It has to be someone who Kronos thinks is worthless. It would have to be someone who the camp trusts, but who also will listen to you."

"Then who do you propose?" Luke growled.

He shrugged. "I don't know. I know people. I know what people do at camp. I'm good at blending in. I'm good at finding out what people sneak in and out. I may be known as camp's best fighter for his age, but otherwise, I'm just another unclaimed kid. I don't stand out." Percy sipped from his smuggled can of Coca-Cola. "You, on the other hand, have found places I've never thought existed. You found this giant rock with a hidden label of BUNKER 9. You are more useful to be working outside of camp because you already know how to navigate it so well."

"So you're going to manipulate people?"

"No." Percy's double looked around to make sure nobody was around. "Only one of us can make noise. That's you. You wanted the glory. I'll feed you the inside stories. I'll be your eyes and ears on the inside. But until… until I can reveal the truth, you'll need another spy."

Percy's dream-self watched as dryads began poking their heads out of their trees to listen. So the dryads had been listening, he thought.

"Why can't you just tell me what truth this is?" Luke demanded. "It can't be that bad."

Percy's double shook his head. "I can't. The time isn't right. I promise you that Kronos willed this."

Luke sighed. "Fine. But you promised to go on the quest, so you better fulfill it. The Titan lord will punish you if you fail."

"Trust me," Percy's double said darkly. "I know."

The dream suddenly shifted scenes. He was back on Half-Blood Hill, but Camp Half-Blood was destroyed and there was no ash tree. Everything had been burned down and destroyed. All that was left was the burning wreckage of buildings in a smoldering valley of death.

Standing before him were the twelve Olympians, all alive and in battle armour. There were two demigods and a satyr standing in front of the gods, and they all looked angry. Annabeth, Thalia… and Grover. The two female demigods were wearing armour and looked tired and beat up. Grover looked like he'd been through Hades and back. But nobody looked as furious as Zeus, the king of the gods, who thundered, "How dare you turn on the Olympians? You failed, and this is the price you pay!"

Hermes took out a human body out of what was seemingly thin air and tossed it in front of him. It was Luke, broken and dead. Percy stared in horror as the demigods took a step forward.

"We expelled Kronos," Annabeth said. "No thanks to you. You destroyed our home—your home because of your greed and your pride. Just because you were too stubborn to forgive. Just because you felt like having revenge on your father for something out of his control was the best path to take."

"I never would have turned on the gods," Thalia snarled. "You're a disgrace to all children of the Big Three. Camp is gone now, and the future of demigods now has to be rebuilt from scratch. We thought you were our friend. But you betrayed us. I hate people who stab their friends in the back."

Grover was the worst. He looked more disappointed than anything. "We were friends, even if your mind and your life were more devoted to the cause of the rise of the titans. I thought we were best friends. But you proved me wrong. I'm… I'm ashamed to be affiliated with you in any way. You don't make me angry, Percy. You make me feel disappointed. You should be shameful."

His father looked almost the same. And for some weird reason, Percy truly felt bad, even though it was just a dream. "I'm ashamed to call you my son. But you chose your path. I let you. Now, here I am, at the end of it. And I'm forced to kill you. Because you aren't my son. You're not the boy Sally and I would have wanted."

Percy stood there in stunned silence as Poseidon raised his trident and blasted him with a bright green beam. As it hit him, his eyes shot open.

He was back on the Queen Anne's Revenge. There was no camp around him. Only the wooden deck of the sailing ship surrounded him. And beyond that only the blue ocean ringed around.

At least, that was what he thought until he stood up.

Up ahead was another blotch of land—a saddle-shaped island with forested hills and white beaches and green meadows—just like he'd seen in his dream. His nautical senses confirmed it: 30 degrees, 31 minutes north, 75 degrees, 12 minutes west.

He'd reached the home of the Cyclops.

As he sailed toward the shore, he breathed in the sweet air. "The Fleece," he said. Even though he couldn't see it, he could feel its power. He knew that it would heal anything, even an old Titan lord who had been cut into a gazillion pieces. How had the Cyclops gotten the Fleece?

Then he spotted the sheep of doom.

They were milling around at the base of the ravine, just like in his dream, not bothering to munch on the grass. Percy knew that there was no way he could get around the sheep. He'd be the next skeleton in Polyphemus' science lab: new, clean and real. He had to go around to a different part of the island and get up there. But the only problem about the saddle-shaped island was that there was only one place where he could climb up and not be doomed to death… unless, of course, Polyphemus had carnivorous mountain goats.

On the back side of the island, the cliffs rose straight up a good two hundred feet. The Queen Anne's Revenge was less likely to be seen there. The cliffs looked climbable, barely—about as difficult as the lava wall back at camp.

He rowed a lifeboat to the edge of the rocks and made his way up, very slowly.

He only came close to dying six or seven times, which he thought was pretty good considering the fact that he should have died via Scylla and Charybdis, got lucky with Circe, and somehow found a miracle and broke the Sirens' spell with water and pure will.

Once, he lost his grip and found himself dangling by one hand from a ledge fifty feet above the rocky surf. But he found another handhold and kept climbing.

Sure, he could control water, but he was dead tired halfway up. He wasn't sure he could make it another foot not to mention make a water bed to catch himself. Somehow, he found the will to keep going and made it all the way to the top. His fingers felt like molten lead and his arm muscles were shaking from exhaustion as he hauled himself over the top of the cliff and collapsed. "Ugh," he groaned.

After a couple minutes of rest, he rolled over to the side, expecting that he was on a nice, big ledge. He nearly fell off as he reacted alertly. Then it fell apart.

Percy slid onto the giant boulder just below him before skidding right off and crashing to the ground with a hard thump. The dirt was harder than he'd expected and he felt like he'd fallen from a two story building and managed to survive.

He groaned again and looked up. There was his prize. The Golden Fleece. Down the hill, across the chasm, and down another hill to the end of the path. Then the path itself led down into the forest to the flock of killer sheep. All Percy needed to do was get the Fleece, bring it back up to the Cyclops' cave, throw it down two hundred feet and jump after it hoping he would land in the water. A perfectly sane idea.

Better than being torn apart by sheep, he thought.

He struggled to get up and clutched his chest. He felt like he was punched like fifty times in the chest. It hurt. He slowly made his way across the bridge toward the Golden Fleece, but when he got across he realized a big problem: the killer sheep were in the way.

They flocked around the tree of the Golden Fleece, as if someone had led them up the path recently. As if the Cyclops had been around very recently.

As quickly as a cobra, a giant hand swatted him back toward the rope bridge. Percy swore he heard something crack.

Turning, he came face-to-face with the keeper of the island, Polyphemus, the dreaded Cyclops he'd dreamed about. Percy backed up as the Cyclops slowly walked forward with his mossy, yellow incisors grinning maniacally at him.

"Who are you?" asked the Cyclops in a deadly quiet tone.

Percy, out of fear and anxiety, stayed silent. Just because he was serving Kronos didn't make lesser creatures like Cyclopes any less deadly and scary. And Polyphemus' breath was to die for. Literally. It was horrible. The guy needed some toothpaste or mouthwash.

Polyphemus' hand jutted out and grabbed him. One moment he was staring the Cyclops down, the next he was flying through the air. He heard Polyphemus bark out an order of some sort before he crashed into a tree. Percy screamed in pain as he slid down to the ground. There was a large thump in front of him, and through his blurred vision, he could see a hulking figure approaching him.

The sheep around him were baring their teeth, but they were hesitant to approach, as if he was a dangerous bomb or something.

"Who are you?" bellowed the Cyclops.

Percy tried to stand. He was only successful when he leaned against the tree. "I'm… I'm Nobody," he decided. "I'm Nobody."

The Cyclops growled. "I remember you, Nobody. You stab my eye many years ago. Maybe I not seeing but I smelling. Smell like fish. Die fish!"

Polyphemus swung his arm, but Percy managed, with his remaining strength, to dive to the side. Pain screamed through his body, but he rolled and stabbed the monster through his big belly. Polyphemus roared in pain and stumbled back.

"Mortal!" Polyphemus bellowed. "Thieving human! Come here to steal my Fleece!"

"It's not your Fleece," Percy spat back. "It belonged to Colchis. It belonged to Phrixus. Then Jason took it. And then you stole it somehow. You've been using it to lure satyrs to their deaths!"

"So? Satyrs good eating!"

"The Fleece should be used to heal! It belongs to the children of the gods!"

"I am a child of the gods!" Polyphemus swiped at Percy, but Percy ducked. "Father Poseidon, curse this thief!"

He was blinking hard now, like he could barely see, and Percy realized he was targeting by the sound of his voice.

"Poseidon won't—" Percy cut himself off. The image of his dream came back to him. He remembered Poseidon's disappointment. And it gave Polyphemus enough time to swipe at him.

Percy went flying through the ravine and over all of the sheep. He landed in the sand at the beach. He was bleeding from his mouth, felt like he was bruised everywhere, and exhausted. But he was back on home territory. If only he'd landed a couple feet further away… But he could crawl.

The moment he did, though, searing pain shot up his left leg. Immediately, he knew something was broken. Polyphemus landed in the water in front of him blocking his only escape route. The killer sheep were circling around behind him, and the Cyclops wielded a deadly spear with a tip made of a ram's horn.

"This is what you used to stab me, Nobody," Polyphemus growled. "Now, I will use this to stab you!"

Luckily for Percy, Polyphemus was pretty much blind. He missed the stab. But only by inches.

Percy needed the ocean. Percy needed a miracle right now. Poseidon had already helped him with the hippocampus. Would the god help him again?

Percy prayed. Please, father. I need help!

A voice echoed in his head. You are my son, whether you like it or not. You are my son, whether you like it or not.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Queen Anne's Revenge turn the corner, and an idea formed in his head. He thought hard about the ship as she began to sail within range of the whole fiasco. Polyphemus ripped the spear from the ground as he grumbled about poor aim. Percy didn't have much time. He needed this to work. Otherwise he was dead.

"No you won't, Cyclops." The anger swelled in Percy as he realized he wouldn't get the Fleece… that he would fail his quest. "Because I am a son of Poseidon! And while you may rule this island, I command the seas!"

He screamed: "Fire!" With all of his might, he rolled over to the side, screaming in delight and agonizing pain.

Percy was glad that he'd taken the Queen Anne's Revenge. All the starboard side cannons fired, and six cannonballs sailed at Polyphemus. The whole spectacle caught him so off guard that two of the six hit him straight in the chest, nailing him to the ground. Percy knew that it wasn't going to be enough to kill him, but at least he'd be down.

The demigod rolled into the water and immediately felt the pain in his leg lessen. He felt power fill his veins, and with a desperate scream, he let loose the largest torrent of water he'd ever sent before. A thirty foot wave of water slammed into the beach, submerging everything within a hundred meters. Sheep were knocked over, bleating as they were thrown around by the unrelenting water. Percy never felt better in his life; the water seemed to be a part of him, and it listened to every command he gave it.

Suddenly, a hippocampus broke the surface behind him… the hippocampus broke through the surface.

"Rainbow!" Percy shouted with glee. He hopped onto his steed and ordered the Queen Anne's Revenge to fire on the island again. The sand blew ten feet into the air as the cannonballs exploded against the sand.

Percy looked up at the Golden Fleece. He knew if he tried, he'd kill himself. He already felt the pain seeping back into his body. The sugar rush was draining from him.

Percy looked back at Rainbow, who began his course away from Polyphemus' Island. So somehow Poseidon had listened to him by giving him the exact same help as he did back in Virginia. Cheap-ass dad.

"But thanks," Percy muttered.

And for some reason, Percy knew that somewhere out there his dad was smiling back at him saying "You're lucky you're not dead."

Because truly, like the Gray Sisters had said, this was a suicide quest. He'd only gotten lucky that Charybdis decided to stop eating and start barfing. He'd been fortunate that he had Hermes' bottle of multivitamins otherwise he would've been a guinea pig stuck on Circe's Island forever. And he received the greatest miracle of all: a twisted mind to escape the trickery of the Sirens.

The Fates hadn't cut his string yet. And perhaps he'd learned something through this whole adventure: there was a pair of green eyes watching him. And he hoped the owner was proud.

Okay, so this might seem like a stupid chapter... stupid fight. Why didn't Percy get the Fleece? He's already had enough miracles. Even the greatest of heroes weren't lucky until death. They usually had a very painful life up until their equally painful death. Except the original Perseus' case. That's a little different. Now this further's Percy's conflicted sides. He's already teetering. Now he's understanding more of his father's side. He's realizing that his father is helping him. He wants his father's attention, but he also dislikes the Olympians and their carelessness toward unclaimed children. Percy is very much a person trying to weigh out his options. He knows what joining Kronos has done for him. He's beginning to know what the side of the gods will do for him. But it isn't until later when it is truly brought out.

I hope you enjoy this chapter. If you haven't already, please vote for the poll. Read, rate and review. Or read, stop halfway and never come back if you hate it. But if you stop halfway, that means you're not reading this. If you are reading this and dislike it, why haven't you stopped already?

Thanks,
Sharky