Neither torch nor dagger," Annabeth said firmly. "There is a third test, which I will pass." "A third test?" the pater demanded. "Mithras was born from rock," Annabeth said, hoping she was right. "He emerged fully grown from the stone, holding his dagger and torch." The screaming and wailing told her she had guessed correctly. "The big mother knows all!" a ghost cried. "That is our most closely guarded secret!" Then maybe you shouldn't put a statue of it on your altar, Annabeth thought.

I need to talk to Clarisse," Annabeth said. I stared at her as if she'd just said "I need to eat a large, smelly boot." "What for?

To foreswear romantic love forever. To never grow up, never get married. To be maiden eternally.

I was flying right toward him (the pig) at the speed of demigod-smashing.

Dreams like a podcast, Downloading truth in my ears. They tell me cool stuff." "Apollo?" I guess, because I figured nobody else could make a haiku that bad. He put his finger to his lips. "I'm incognito. Call me Fred." "A god named Fred?

My girlfriend: sophomore honors student, demigod, and — oh, yeah — head architect for redesigning the palace of the gods on Mount Olympus in her spare time.

Do you think me cruel?” Neith asked. “Oh, yes, I collect the pockets of my enemies.” “Horrifying,” I said. “I didn’t know demons had pockets.” “Oh, yes.” Neith glanced in either direction, apparently to be sure no one was eavesdropping. “You just have to know where to look.