Annabeth, thank goodness, would be staying in New York. She'd gotten permission from her parents to attend a boarding school in the city so she could be close to Olympus and oversee the rebuilding efforts. "And close to me?" I asked. "Well, someone's got a big sense of his own importance." But she laced her fingers through mine. I remembered what she'd told me in New York, about building something permanent, and I thought—just maybe—we were off to a good start.

Whoa, boy, he told himself. Golden Rule for Demigods: Thou shalt not Hokey Pokey with psychos.

Two hundred Romans, and no one’s got a pen? Never mind!" He slung his M16 onto his back and pulled out a hand grenade. There were many screaming Romans. Then the hand grenade morphed into a ballpoint pen, and Mars began to write. Frank looked at Percy with wide eyes. He mouthed: Can your sword do grenade form? Percy mouthed back, No. Shut up.

Hold up." Leo stepped forward, wagging his Wii controller. "Did you just call my a ship a monstrosity? I KNOW you didn't that.

Well . . . sure good to be together again. Arguing. Almost dying. Abject terror. Oh, look. It's our floor.

Are you the cursed kid Nemesis mentioned?" Leo asked. "But you're a girl." "You're a girl," said the girl. "Excuse me?

You're the last Olympian,' I said. 'And the most important.' And why is that, Percy Jackson?' Because Hope survives best at the hearth,' I said.