We did all the standard camp numbers: "Down By The Aegean," "I Am My Own Great-Great-Great-Great Grandpa," "This Land is Minos's Land.

You never know!” Neith snapped. “The point is, I’ll survive the apocalypse. I can live off the land!” She jabbed a finger at me. “Did you know the palm tree has six different edible parts?” “Um—” “And I’ll never be bored,” Neith continued, “since I’m also the goddess of weaving. I have enough twine for a millennium of macramé!” I had no reply, as I wasn’t sure what macramé was.

I'm not good with children," the god confessed. "Or people. Well, any organic life forms, really.

She was beautiful in combat. I know that’s a crazy thing to say, especially after we’d just climbed a sewage waterfall, but her gray eyes sparkled when she was fighting for her life. Her face shone like a goddess’s, and believe me, I’ve seen goddesses. The way her Camp Half-Blood beads rested against her throat—Okay, sorry. Got a little distracted.

Boys are usually forbidden to have any contact with the Hunters. The last one to see this camp..." She looked at Zoe. "Which one was it?" That boy in Colorado," Zoe said. "You turned him into a jackalope." Ah, yes." Artemis nodded, satisfied. "I enjoy making jackalopes.

Ptah? son of ptooey? What is he god of spitting? i asked

I want to build some thing permanent.