The metal blade hit her shoulder and passed cleanthrough her body as if she were made of water. HISSS!
Rick RiordanI picked up Pandora's jar. The spirit of Hope fluttered inside, trying to warm the cold container. "Hestia," I said, "I give this to you as an offering." The goddess tilted her head. "I am the least of the gods. Why would you trust me with this?" "You're the last Olympian," I said. "And the most important." "And why is that, Percy Jackson?" "Because Hope survives best at the hearth," I said. "Guard it for me, and I won't be tempted to give up again."
Rick RiordanPlease, Percy...change your clothes. You smell like you've been run over by an electric horse.
Rick Riordan