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.

Do you give up?" Shezmu bellowed. "No!" I yelled. "No, we don't give up. We will name you. Just . . . Gosh, you're quite well muscled, arn't you? Do you work out?

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!

I know you'll do what's best for Annabeth." "How can you be sure?" "Because she'd do the same for you.

I can't summon anymore gas!" Leo warned. The His faced turned red. 'Wow, that came out wrong. I mean the burning kind.

Bad Cyclops Lady!" he bellowed. "General Tyson says GO AWAY!

I (Percy) set Nico on guard duty with Beckendorf and the Stoll brothers, figuring he'd be safely out of the way. ... "What's happening?" Nico demanded, trying to climb up next to me.