The world was collapsing, and the only thing that really mattered to me was that she was alive.

Green grass breaks through snow, Artemis pleads for my help, I am so cool.

If Annabeth's mother was Athena, the goddess of wisdom, then why didn't Annabeth know better than to fall off a cliff?

Words had started swimming off the page, circling my head, the letters doing one-eighties as if they were riding skateboards.

And if I was humming "Happy Birthday" and smiling stupidly as I fled for my life—well, that was nobody's business, was it?

Safety from what? Who's after me?" Oh, nobody much," Grover said, obviously still miffed about the donkey comment. "Just the Lord of the Dead and a few of his blood-thirstiest minions.

I want to build some thing permanent.