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

I love Greek Mythology, wish there was a TV series, like being human or smallville, but with the series based around Percy Jackson and the Olympians, Holla Mayne!

Once I got over the fact that my Latin teacher was a horse, we had a nice tour, though I was careful not to walk behind him. I'd done pooper-scooper patrol in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade a few times, and, I'm sorry, I did not trust Chiron's back the the way I trusted his front.

June smiled. "So what will it be? Safety, or a future of pain and possibility?"

I'm calm," Rachel insisted. "Every time I'm around you, some monsters attack us. What's to be nervous about?" "Look," I said. "I'm sorry about the band room. I hope they didn't kick you our or anything." "Nah. They asked me a lot of questions about you. I played dumb." "Was it hard?" Annabeth asked.

We stepped back and looked at the king of the gods, slumped in his chair snoring, and cradling his crook like a teddy bear. I placed the war flail across his lap, hoping it might make a difference—maybe complete his powers or something. No such luck. "Sick weasels," Ra muttered. "Behold," Sadie said bitterly. "the glorious Ra.

Here's a tip, Alyconeus. Next time you choose the biggest state for your home, don't set up base in the part that's only 10 miles wide. Welcome to Canada, idiot.