I headed towards the mountain, which was an almost irresistible beacon to my storm self. It glowed with heat, pressure, and turbulence—everything a little dust devil like me could want.

Annabeth's voice caught on the word friend. Percy was a lot more than that. Even boyfriend really didn't cover it. They'd been through so much together, at this point Percy was part of her--a sometimes annoying part, sure, but definitely a part she could not live without.

I survive all those battles," she growled, "and I get defeated by a stupid chunk of rock!

The dead are hard to look at. Their faces shimmer. They all look slightly angry or confused. they will come up to you and speak, but their voices sound like chatter, like bats twittering. Once they realize you can't understand them, they frown and move away. The dead aren't scary. They're just sad.

No more Lastrygonians.” Ella fluttered down and landed next to them. “Six minus six is zero. Spears are good for subtraction, yep.

How old is she now?" he asked. "Hard to say. She was a tree for a while. Now she's immortal.

In the old legends, Arachne had gotten into trouble because of pride. She’d bragged about her tapestries being better than Athena’s, which had led to Mount Olympus’s first reality TV punishment program: 'So You Think You Can Weave Better Than a Goddess?' Arachne had lost in a big way.