Carter Kane, 14, died tragically in Paris when he was eaten by his sister’s cat Muffin.

Percy," my father said, "what exactly do you mean?" "Kronos couldn't have risen if it hadn't been for a lot of demigods who felt abandoned by their parents," I said. "They felt angry, resentful, and unloved, and they had a good reason.

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

My fatal flaw is hubris. The brown stuff they spread on veggie sandwiches? No, seaweed brain. That's hummus. Hubris is worse. What could be worse than hummus?

I haven't devoured a soul in...What month is this? March?

Then there was Nico di Angelo. Dang, that kid gave Leo the freaky-deakies. He sat back in his leather aviator jacket, his black T-shirt and jeans, that wicked silver skull ring on his finger, and the Stygian sword at his side. His tufts of black hair struck up in curls like baby bat wings. His eyes were sad and kind of empty, as if he’d stared into the depths of Tartarus—which he had.

June cackled with delight, muttering, "Whoops!" as a car almost killed them.