To all my librarian friends, champions of books, true magicians in the House of Life. Without you, this writer would be lost in the Dust.

A surgeon would never hesitate to amputate a rotting hand, no matter how faithfully it had served its owner in the past.

Percy (to Annabeth): If I was going to pick one person in the world to reattach my head, I'd pick you. Silena: Awww . . . Percy, that is so sweet! Annabeth: Shut up, Silena.

Annabeth came up to me. She was dressed in black camouflage with her Celestial bronze knife strapped to her arm and her laptop bag slung over her shoulder—ready for stabbing or surfing the Internet, whichever came first.

God alert!" Blackjack yelled. "It's the wine dude! Mr. D sighed in exasperation. "The next person, or horse, who calls me the 'wine dude' will end up in a bottle of Merlot!

Good fighting with you, Seaweed Brain." Ditto.

I wrote for 10 years before I even started the 'Percy Jackson' series.