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.

Do you have a favorite constalation, Percy?' I was still kind of wondering about the little green snakes he'd shoved into his jogging shorts, but i said. 'Uh, I like Hercules.' 'Why?' 'Well... because he had rotten luck. Even worse than mine. It makes me feel better." The jogger chuckled. 'Not because he was strong and famouse and all that?' 'No.

Traitor!" Hera shouted. "You meddlesome, D-list goddess! You aren't worthy to pour my wine, much less rule the world.

Eat bitter, taste sweet," Frank said. "I hate that proverb." "But it's true. What do they call it these days---no pain, no gain? Same concept. You do the easy thing, the appealing thing, the peaceful thing, mostly it turns out sour in the end. But if you take the hard path---ah, that's how you reap the sweet rewards. Duty. Sacrifice. They mean something.

"We're staying together," he promised. "You're not getting away from me. Never again."

With great power... comes great need to take a nap. Wake me up later.

What about King Tut’s tomb?” I protested. “That boy king?” Zia rolled her eyes. “Boring. You should see some of the good tombs.