I turned and faced the Olympians. "We need a shroud," I announced, my voice cracking. "A shroud for the son of Hermes.

She deserved at least one person who saw her and knew how good she was.

The name says it all. That's where Dad (Hades) tries out his new punishment ideas, but he says the traditional ones still work best: the lava flows, the minefields full of exploding surprises, burning at the stake, running naked through cactus patches... You name it, we've got it here - Nico di Angelo

Poseidon grinned. "You're doing well with those new cabins, by the way. I suppose this means I can claim all those other sons and daughters of mine and send you some siblings next summer." "Ha-ha." Poseidon reeled in his empty line. I shifted my feet. "Um, you were kidding, right?" Poseidon gave me one of his inside-joke winks, and I still didn't know whether he was serious or not.

Otis barreled towards them empty-handed, before apparently realizing that a) he was empty-handed and b) charging towards a large body of water to fight a son of Poseidon was maybe not a good idea.

Desjardins was literally fuming. His tattered robes still smoked from battle. (Carter says I shouldn’t mention that his pink boxer shorts were showing, but they were!)

Why won't you drown?" he wailed, pummeling me with his fists. "I'm Poseidon's son," I said. "Curse that upstart! I was here first!