Zoë threw up her hands in exasperation. "I hate this language. It changes too often!

But if she'd realized that nine desiccated zombie nymphs would be waiting for her, she never would have come down here.

I will call him Small Bob," said Bob. "He is a good monster." End of discussion.The Titan hefted his spear and they continued marching into the gloom.

He pinched the name tag and ran his fingers under the letters. "Can you read this, mate? It says C-H-A-R-O-N. Say it with me: CARE-ON." "Charon." "Amazing! Now: Mr. Charon." "Mr. Charon." "Well done.

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

With my sister perched on my arm, I walked to the elevator. A business man with a rolling suitcase was waiting by the doors. His eyes widened as he saw me. I must’ve looked pretty strange—a tall black kid in dirty, ragged Egyptian clothes, with a weird box tucked under one arm and a bird of prey perched on the other. “How’s it going?” I said. “I’ll take the stairs.” He hurried off.

But this plan of yous!' Tawaret shuddered, causing a tsunami of jiggling hippo flesh.