You’re probably thinking: Wait, you just charged in without a plan? But Annabeth and I had been fighting together for years. We knew each other’s abilities. We could anticipate each other’s moves. I might have felt awkward and nervous about being her boyfriend, but fighting with her? That came naturally. Hmm…that sounded wrong. Oh, well.

Frank Zhang! I, Jason Grace, praetor of the Twelfth Legion Fulminata, give you my final order: I resign my post and give you emergency field promotion to praetor, with the full powers of that rank. Take command of this legion!

Strange things conspire when one tries to cheat fate

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?

The afterlife looks different to every soul," he said, "depending on whatthey believe. For that guy, Egypt must've made a strong impression when he was young , maybe." "And if someone doesn't believe in any afterlife?" i asked. Walt gave me a sad look. "Then that's what they experience.

Vitellius would've given Percy an hour-long lecture on the subject, probably with a PowerPoint presentation.

Okay," Annabeth said. "What exactly do you smell?" "Something bad," Tyson answered. "Great," Annabeth grumbled. "That clears it up.