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.

I keep forgetting about your amnesia. Heh. Forgetting about amnesia. That's funny.

You deal with mythological stuff for a few years, you learn that paradises are usually places where you get killed.

The real story of the Fleece: there were these two children of Zeus, Cadmus and Europa, okay? They were about to get offered up as human sacrifices, when they prayed to Zeus to save them. So Zeus sent this magical flying ram with golden wool, which picked them up in Greece and carried them all the way to Colchis in Asia Minor. Well, actually it carried Cadmus. Europa fell off and died along the way, but that's not important." "It was probably important to her.

I've always liked the idea that writing is a form of travel. And I started my writing career as a mystery novelist for adults.

That's it, cupcake. You're going down.

So, destroy?" Cal asked. Clearly, the conversation was giving his two brain cells a serious workout.