That sounded about as likely as Apophis and Ra becoming Facebook buddies, but I decided not to say anything.

While Leo fussed over his helm controls, Hazel and Frank relayed the story of the fish-centaurs and their training camp. 'Incredible,' Jason said. 'These are really good brownies.' 'That's your only comment?' Piper demanded. He looked surprised. 'What? I heard the story. Fish-centaurs. Merpeople. Letter of intro to the Tiber River god. Got it. But these brownies--' 'I know,' Frank said, his mouth full. 'Try them with Ester's peach preserves.' 'That,' Hazel said, 'is incredibly disgusting.' 'Pass me the jar, man,' Jason said. Hazel and Piper exchanged a look of total exasperation. Boys.

A tinkerer,” snapped Pasiphaë. “Even worse. I knew Daedalus. His inventions brought me nothing but trouble.” Leo blinked. “Daedalus…like, the Daedalus? Well, then, you should know all about us tinkerers. We’re more into fixing, building, occasionally sticking wads of oilcloth in the mouths of rude ladies—

I found myself staring at her, which was stupid since I'd seen her a billion times. Still, she seemed so much more mature. It was kind of intimidating. I mean, sure, she'd always been cute, but she was starting to be seriously beautiful.

"Boys," Annabeth interrupted, "I'm sure you both would've been wonderful at killing each other. But right now you need some rest."

But who are you?" Percy—" I started to say. Then the skeletons turned around. "Gotta go!" What kind of name is Percy Gotta-go?

I grabbed a pair of glowing red legs.