Doesn't miss many meals, does he?" Zeus muttered. "Tyson, for your bravery in the war, and for leading the Cyclopes, you are appointed a general I. The armies of Olympus. You shall henceforth lead you breathren into war whenever required by the gods. And you shall have a new...um...what kind of weapon would you like? A sword? An axe?" "Stick!" Tyson said, showing his broken club. "Very well," Zeus said. "We will grant you a new, er, stick. The best stick that may be found." "Hooray!
Rick RiordanWell," said Apollo with a brave smile. "You were right, my dear. You had everything under control! Let's go see if we boiled anyone important, shall we?
Rick RiordanApollo?โ I guessedโฆ He put a finger to his lips. โIโm incognito. Call me Fred.โ A god named Fred?
Rick RiordanThatโs us,โ he said. โThose five nuts right there.โ Which one is me?โ I asked. The little deformed one,โ Zoe suggested. Oh, shut up.
Rick RiordanWhat-what do you want?" Annabeth asked, trying to maintain a tone of confidence. The voice cackled maliciously. 'To curse you, of course! To destroy you thousand times in the name of Mother Night!' "Only a thousand times?" Percy murmured. "Oh, good...I thought we were in trouble.
Rick RiordanThe other thing that troubled me: Dad was clutching his workbag. Usually when he does that, it means we're in danger. Like the time gunmen stormed into our hotel in Cairo. I heard shots coming from the lobby and ran downstairs to check on my dad. By the time I got there, he was just calmly zipping up his workbag while three unconscious gunmen hung by their feet from the chandelier, their robes falling over their heads so you could see their boxer shorts. Dad claimed not to have witnessed anything, and in the end the police blamed a freak chandelier malfunction.
Rick Riordan