The wind blowing through my ripped clothes was so cold that I felt like a Percysicle.

i love to read and you should read percy kackson & the olympians the last one the best

Hope survives best at the hearth.

Which reminded me...I still owed the gods a debt. "You're a genius," I (Percy) told Annabeth.

And, whoa!" He turned to Mr.D. "Your the wine dude? No way!" Mr.D turned hi eyes away from me and gave Nico a look of loathing. "The wine dude?" "Dionysus, right? Oh, wow! I've got your figurine!" "My figurine." "In my game, Mythomagic. And holofoil card, too! And even though you've only got like five hundred attack points and everybody thinks your the lamest god card, I totally think your powers are sweet!" "Ah." Mr.D seemed truly perplexed, which probably saved my life. "Well, that's...gratifying.

You set us up!” “No! I swear—” Her face fell. “Mel. Mel must’ve told him.” “Right,” I grumbled. “Blame Mel.

Hades raised an eyebrow. When he sat forward in his throne, shadowy faces appeared in the folds of his black robes, faces of torment,as if the garment was stitched of trapped souls from the Fields of Punishment, trying to get out. The ADHD part of me wondered, off-task, whether the rest of his clothes were made the same way. What horrible things would you have to do in your life to get woven into Hades' underwear?