I knew Dionysus must've filled it out, because he stubbornly insisted on getting my name wrong: Dear _______Peter Johnson__________.

"Cool" Leo said. "I always wanted a sister who could beat me up."

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.

What did he say?" Hazel asked. "With the cussing removed? He said he can get us to the top," Percy replied.

Doesn't miss many meals, does he?" Zeus muttered. "Tyson, for your bravery in the war, and for leading the Cyclopes, you are appointed a general I. The armies of Olympus. You shall henceforth lead you breathren into war whenever required by the gods. And you shall have a new...um...what kind of weapon would you like? A sword? An axe?" "Stick!" Tyson said, showing his broken club. "Very well," Zeus said. "We will grant you a new, er, stick. The best stick that may be found." "Hooray!

I wasn't aiming at the school bus, but of course I got expelled anyway.

So I took her hand, and I don't know what everybody else heard, but to me it sounded like a slow dance: a little sad, but maybe a little hopeful, too.