Your uncle," Poseidon sighed, "has always had a flair for dramatic exits. I think he would've done well as the god of theater.

The first thing we pulled out was a lump of white gunk. “Wax,” Carter pronounced. “Fascinating.

There!" Mars finished writing and threw the scroll at Octavian. "A prophecy. You can add it to your books, engrave it on the floor, whatever." Octavian read the scroll. "This says, 'Go to Alaska. Find Thanatos and free him. Come back by sundown on June twenty-fourth or die'." "Yes," Mars said. "Is that not clear?" "Well, my lord...usually prophecies are unclear. They're wrapped in riddles. They rhyme, and..." Mars casually popped another grenade off his belt. "Yes?" "The prophecy is clear!" Octavian announced. "A quest!

No!" Amy said. "Dan, you're lucky it was only concussive. You could've wiped out the whole Holt family." "And that would've been bad because...?

"Yeah, flattering." Percy raised Riptide. "But actually I'm the son of Poseidon. I'm from Camp Half-Blood."

Five syllables," Apollo said, counting them on his fingers. "That would be real bad.

Thank Artemis, it is you! That little scar on your lip--you tried to eat a stapler when you were two!" ... Hedge nodded like he approved of Jason's taste. "Staplers--excellent source of iron.