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Maybe if I kick you in your soft spot, I thought. And make you sing soprano for a week.
So naturally I tripped coming in the door and made a total fool of myself.
As for the attention problems, that’s because you see too much, Percy, not too little.
The last thing I remembered was sinking in a burning sea, knowing that Tyson was gone forever, and wishing I were able to drown.
his voice impossibly soft.
‘It’s cool. No sword. See? No sword. Calm thoughts. Sea grass. Mama cows. Vegetarianism.’
There were too many goodbyes. That night was the first time I actually saw camp burial shrouds used on bodies, and it was not something I wanted to see again.
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.’
‘All hail, Perseus Jackson,’ Tyson said. ‘Hero of Olympus … and my big brother!’
