Percy Jackson," Hermes said, "because you have taken on the curse of Achilles, I must spare you. You are in the hands of the Fates now. But you will never speak to me like that again. You have no idea how much I have sacrificed, how much—" His voice broke, and he shrank back to human size. "My son, my greatest pride . . . my poor May . . ." He sounded so devastated I didn't know what to say. One minute he was ready to vaporize us. Now he looked like he needed a hug.

I concentrated hard and snapped my fingers. "You don't see the sword," I told the girl. "It's just a ballpoint pen." She blinked. "Um . . . no. It's a sword, weirdo.

Your former friend Luke " Poseidon corrected. "He once promised things like that. He was Hermes's pride and joy. Just bear that in mind Percy. Even the bravest can fall.

I hoped they couldn't run very fast with those stubby little legs and flippers, but they waddled along pretty well.

I do like to wrap things up and leave some things to the readers' imagination.

Great, I thought. We just blowtorched a national monument.

Now, you'll have to answer my questions." "Oh, very well," Set said. "I like Brazil for the World Cup. I'd advise investing in platinum and small-cap funds. And your lucky numbers this week are 2, 13--" "Not those questions!" Menshikov snapped.