He touched the screen as if trying to reach through with his hand. "You're a wonderful young lady. I don't tell you that often enough. You remind me so much of your mother. She'd be proud. And Grandpa Tom" --he chuckled-- "he always said you'd be the most powerful voice in our family. You're going to outshine me some day, you know. They're going to remember me as Piper McLean's father, and that's the best legacy I can imagine.

Surfing?” he asked. She laughed, and the sound sent a shock wave through the water. The wailing faded to background noise. Annabeth wondered if anyone had ever laughed in Tartarus before—just a pure, simple laugh of pleasure. She doubted it.

You're the last Olympian,' I said. 'And the most important.' And why is that, Percy Jackson?' Because Hope survives best at the hearth,' I said.

That was Hera. Her Majesty, the Loose Cannon.

You speak horse?" Hazel asked. "Speaking to horses is a Poseidon thing," Percy said. "Uh, I mean a Neptune thing." "Then you and Arion should get along fine," Hazel said. "He's a son of Neptune too." Percy turned pale. "Excuse me?

You mean a bad heel?" I said. "Couldn't I just, like, wear something besides sandals? No offense." -Percy

I'd missed Annabeth probably more than I wanted to admit.