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.

Quintus..." Geryon mused. "Short gray hair, muscular, swordsman?" "Yeah." "Never heard of him.

Whathat!" Tyson gasped. "Those are the stables for the pegasi," I replied, "You know, winged horses?" "Whasthat!" "Um... those are the toilets.

He was beautiful the way an angel is beautiful - timeless, perfect, remote.

Besides, you're a cat. It's your nature to think you're the center of the universe.

I can see hope inside it." Rachel ran her fingers over the ceramic designs. "So fragile.

I sat up in bed. "What did he say?" Tyson groaned, still half asleep. He was lying facedown on the couch, his feet so far over the edge they were in the bathroom. "The happy man said...bowling practice?" I hoped he was right, but then there was an urgent knock on the suite's interior door. Annabeth stuck her head in--her blonde hair in a rat's nest. "DISEMBOWLING practice?