It is a costly thing, looking on the true face of Love.

Percy was getting tired of water. If he said that aloud, he would probably get kicked out of Poseidon’s Junior Sea Scouts, but he didn’t care.

Hope," Frank grumbled. "I'd rather have a few good weasels.

Oh, obviously,” Reyna said. “Without you, I doubt Percy could find his way out of a paper bag.” “True,” Annabeth agreed.

Together we made our way down to the street level. Neither of us said a word. The music was awful--Neil Diamond or something. I should've made that part of my gift form the gods: better elevator tunes.

Grand buildings made her feel better--maybe because being in a place so permanent made her feel more permanent.

I wondered if I would appear on a temple wall painting someday. A blonde Egyptian girl with purple highlights running sideways through the palm trees, screaming "Yikes!" in hieroglyphics as Neith chased after me. The thought of some poor archaeologist trying to figure that out almost lifted my spirits.