Our problems started in Dallas, when the fire-breathing sheep destroyed the King Tut exhibit.

Since Percy’d lost his memory,his whole life was one big fillin-the-blank. He was____________________, from____________________. He felt like ____________________, and if the monsters caught him, he’d be____________________.

Quintus..." Geryon mused. "Short gray hair, muscular, swordsman?" "Yeah." "Never heard of him.

She was beautiful in combat. I know that’s a crazy thing to say, especially after we’d just climbed a sewage waterfall, but her gray eyes sparkled when she was fighting for her life. Her face shone like a goddess’s, and believe me, I’ve seen goddesses. The way her Camp Half-Blood beads rested against her throat—Okay, sorry. Got a little distracted.

It was beautiful in a harsh I'm-going-to-gut-you-like-a-fish kind of way.

It is," I said. "And it's not even difficult. But I need your promise on the River Styx." "What?" Dionysus cried. "You don't trust us?" "Someone once told me," I said, looking at Hades, "you should always get a solemn oath." Hades shrugged. "Guilty.

Have you ever noticed how parents can go from the most wonderful people in the world to totally embarrassing in three seconds?