Right before the game, she strolled up to me. "Hey, Seaweed Brain." "Will you stop calling me that?" She knows I hate that name, mostly because I never have a good comeback. She's the daughter of Athena, which doesn't give me a lot of ammunition. I mean, "Owl-head" and "Wise Girl" are kind of lame insults.

It is," I said. "And it's not even difficult. But I need your promise on the River Styx." "What?" Dionysus cried. "You don't trust us?" "Someone once told me," I said, looking at Hades, "you should always get a solemn oath." Hades shrugged. "Guilty.

Sometimes, it takes us a while to appreciate something new, something that might change us for the better.

Waitress!" Hedge called. "Six double espressos, and whatever these guys want. Put it on the girl's tab.

Hephaestus glowered up at us. “I didn’t make you, did I?” Uh,” Annabeth said, “no, sir.” Good,” the god grumbled. “Shoddy workmanship.

But she wondered why beautiful things had to be wrapped up with evil history. Or was it the other way around? Maybe the evil history made it necessary to build beautiful things, to mask the darker aspects.

My resolve, my anger, even my grief gave me confidence