I wanted to keep things as normal as possible for the trainees, so I led my usual morning class. I called it Magic Problem-Solving 101. The trainees called it Whatever Works.

You seem to be clean," Terminus decided. "Do you have anything to declare?" "Yes," Percy said. "I declare this is stupid.

Number eight, the silver one, belongs to Artemis. She vowed to be a maiden forever. So of course, no kids. The cabin is, you know, honorary. If she didn't have one, she'd be mad.

If I were a flowerpot, I would've checked my hair. ~Carter Kane

Her hair is smoldering. Her face was smudged with soot. She had a cut on her arms, her dress was torn, and she was missing a boot. Beautiful.

The others strapped themselves below - except for Coach Hedge, who insisted on clinging to the forward rail, yelling, "YEAH! Bring it on, Lake!

Then there was Nico di Angelo. Dang, that kid gave Leo the freaky-deakies. He sat back in his leather aviator jacket, his black T-shirt and jeans, that wicked silver skull ring on his finger, and the Stygian sword at his side. His tufts of black hair struck up in curls like baby bat wings. His eyes were sad and kind of empty, as if he’d stared into the depths of Tartarus—which he had.