So, yeah. Our cat was a goddess. What else is new?

Jason's fingers itched to draw his sword. He'd met plenty of scary demigods, but he was starting to realize that Nico di Angelo--as pale and gaunt as he looked--might be more than he could handle.

Me? I slept like the dead, which I hoped wasn’t a sign of things to come.

People are more difficult to work with than machines. And when you break a person, he can't be fixed.

So I saved your life, and you repaid me by raising Kronos. That's fair.

The horse seemed to bend time and space as he ran, blurring the landscape and making Frank feel like he'd just drunk a gallon of whole milk without his lactose-intolerance medicine: "Seven hundred and fifty miles per hour. Eight hundred. Eight hundred and three. Fast. very Fast.

I prayed the monsters would give up. Or that perhaps Philip of Macedonia would climb back to the terrace (do crocodiles climb?) and renew the fight.