xxi. all or none

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"I GOT NOBODY!"

Dangling by her legs from Polyphemus' fist is Annabeth, her baseball cap on the ground.

"Ha, nasty invisible girl! Already got one for a wife. Means you gotta be grilled with mango chutney!"

There's a deep cut on Annabeth's forehead, enough that the blood runs past her hairline. That isn't the scary part; Annabeth's eyes are glassy, more than just a concussion.

"We'll rush him," Thea says, nodding at Percy. "Our ship is around the back of the island. You and Grover take Charlie and—"

"No way," they say at the same time. While Thea is armed with a slightly rusted Trojan sword stolen from the cave, Clarisse has a collectible rams-horn spear, and Grover has a sharpened sheep thigh bone. Neither seem to care about their flimsy weapons.

"We'll take him together," Clarisse growls and grips her spear tighter. Grover agrees and looks down at the sheep's thigh bone with a look of disgust.

"I'll go too," Charlie groans, his entire body seeming to grimace along with him.

"You can barely stand," Clarisse says fiercely. "Unless you got magic powers like Thea, it doesn't matter."

"Well, sorta, but I'm not good at it—"

"No magic for you," Thea says, propping him up against the cave wall. "Got it? Just—just let Grover go with you, and if—if we don't make it then he'll get you to the ship."

"Why would the make me feel any better—"

"Attack plan Macedonia," Percy says.

It isn't discussed who will go where, but Percy and Thea seem to automatically know where to go. Clarisse sneaks on the right flank, Grover sneaks on the left, and she and Percy up the front. Percy lifts his sword above his head. "Hey, ugly!"

"Another one? Who are you?"

"Put down my friend, I'm the one who insulted you."

"You are Nobody? Who is she?"

"I'm Nobody, and she's—she's Anybody!"

"Yeah, I'm Anybody!" Thea yells, brandishing her sword. "Now put her down and fight me, you giant dickhead!"

Thea barely has time to think before Annabeth falls, headfirst, toward the rocks. She says the first thing that comes to mind, the first spell she ever learned, and Annabeth stops mere inches above the ground. Thea feels her energy drain out of her as she lets Annabeth drop to the ground.

"Bad witch!" Polyphemus roars, trampling forward.

Grover yells in the name of Pan, but his sheep bone bounces harmlessly off of the cyclops. Clarisse places her spear on the ground just in time for Polyphemus to step on it, but it's only a splinter to him.

Thea dives out of the way just in time and Percy stabs him in the thigh. She follows after and twists her sword into the wound, barely making it away before he swats at her.

"Get Annabeth!" Percy yells, narrowly avoiding Polyphemus' foot.

Grover races over to Annabeth and picks her up, Charlie leaning against him, but Thea can't focus on that. It's three demigods against one giant cyclops, they barely stand a chance. In Thea's case, she's lucky if she gets a hit in, but her main focus is avoiding him. She stands no chance, not when she's exhausted.

"Fall back!" Percy yells.

Thea gives him a wild look, but she follows anyway.

"Grind you into sheep chow!" he roars. "A thousand curses on Nobody!"

"Faster!"

They are heading toward the bridge. Percy is holding her wrist, pulling her along to make her go faster, his sword in the other.

"Grover!" Percy yells. "Get Annabeth's knife!"

Terrible plan. It's their only chance.

The first stand snaps off and the bridge sways wildly as Polyphemus chases after them. Thea leaps with what little strength she has left and the three of them fall onto the grass, the bridge snapping behind them.

But it doesn't matter. Because Polyphemus is on their side, too.

"Failed!" Polyphemus yells gleefully. "Nobody and Anybody failed!"

Thea charges forward alongside Clarisse and Grover, but it's useless. Polyphemus swats her aside and she crashes into the dirt ten feet away, her ribs cracking. She gasps as pain bursts through her. She can taste blood in her mouth, oh gods, there is blood in her mouth—

It hurts, it hurts so bad. She can feel her chest, it isn't right, it hurts too much, her body hurts, it hurts and there is nothing she can do, she can't make herself move, and gods she is gonna die. She can feel it, just like before she is going to die and it's going to be all her fault. She is going to die and there is nothing she can do.

Tears leak out of the corner of her eyes as her body jerks, an awful wet coughing noise coming from her. After another desperate cough, blood splatters onto her face. It only makes the tears go faster.

Everything is becoming fuzzy, it's too hard to here, but she knows everyone isn't too far. They have to deal with Polyphemus, but—she is going to die alone. Annabeth is dying, too. She can admit it now that she has nothing left to lose. Maybe they'll be lucky enough to see each other in the Underworld. She wonders if, somehow, she'll get to see her mother too.

But she doesn't want to die alone. She can't do it alone, not again.

"Ch-ch . . ."

She can't get a word out, not as blood is choking her. She's going to die, for real this time.

"P-p-p . . . cy-cy . . ."

Clarisse slides to her knees beside her and takes Thea's hand in her own. Tears are in her eyes. "Oh gods. Thea, it—it'll be alright, Tyson's going to get the Fleece and we'll give it to you first. You'll be okay." She shakes her head. Annabeth needs it more. If it's one or the other, it will always be her. "Percy, Grover!"

Thea does her best to squeeze Clarisse's hand. "St-st . . ."

"I'm right here, I'm not leaving," she says, squeezing her hand. "Fuck, fuck. Get the Fleece over here, now! Come look at her for fuck's sake, she's dying!"

"Ch-ch . . ."

"Charlie's passed out, he took another hit from Polyphemus but he's okay. He'll be okay." Clarisse's lip is trembling. Thea wonders if it is the first time she has seen anyone die. "You're strong as shit, Vasquez, you can do it."

Her hold on her hand is getting weaker. She doesn't want to die, but it's okay. She won't be alone. That is all she cares about.

"You idiot, you shouldn't have used any more magic and—no, keep holding onto my hand, Thea. Don't let go you little fucker."

A small smile slips onto Thea's bloodstained lips. She's glad it was Clarisse. It feels fitting.

"Th-th-k—"

"Don't thank me you'll be fine, got it? You'll be fucking fine. You'll go back to camp and make those stupid little trinkets in the forge. You'll be fine."

She sees the Fleece wrap around Annabeth's shoulders as she stumbles over and she can't be happier. Annabeth deserves to live, she has too much ahead of her. She'll be an architect, she will build everything she ever wanted. She will live.

As her grip fails on Clarisse's hand she feels the Fleece wrap around her. She should have known that Percy would never pick one or the other—it's both, or none at all.