More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
The city had some connection to Annabeth—the only person he could remember from his past. His memory of her was frustratingly dim.
Then he thought about Annabeth, the only part of his old life he was sure about. He had to find her.
“All roads lead there, child. You should know that.” “Detention?” Percy asked.
Also, he was reluctant to share his one clear memory: Annabeth’s face, her blond hair and gray eyes, the way she laughed, threw her arms around him, and gave him a kiss whenever he did something stupid. She must have kissed me a lot, Percy thought.
Then she’d met Percy. At first, when she saw him stumbling up the highway with the old lady in his arms, Hazel had thought he might be a god in disguise. Even though he was beat up, dirty, and stooped with exhaustion, he’d had an aura of power. He had the good looks of a Roman god, with sea-green eyes and wind blown black hair.
Yeah, teddy bears must have nightmares about that guy. But you’re in!
“I wish I was ADHD or dyslexic. All I got is lactose intolerance.”
PERCY SLEPT LIKE A MEDUSA VICTIM—which is to say, like a rock.
He imagined holding hands with Annabeth at a café. Maybe when they were older, watching their own kid chase seagulls across the forum…
For some reason, Annabeth and he had visited a spa and decided to destroy it. He couldn’t imagine why. Maybe they hadn’t liked the deep-tissue massage? Maybe they’d gotten bad manicures?
“Do you have anything to declare?” “Yes,” Percy said. “I declare this is stupid.”
Frank shook the thought out of his head. He was no prince or hero. He was a lactose-intolerant klutz, who couldn’t even protect his friend from getting kidnapped by wheat.
“You keep slaves?” Hazel knew it might be dangerous to speak, but she was so outraged she couldn’t stop herself. “The men?” Kinzie snorted. “They’re not slaves. They just know their place. Now, move.”
Percy muttered something in Ancient Greek that Hazel was pretty sure the nuns at St. Agnes wouldn’t have liked.
“Life is only precious because it ends, kid. Take it from a god. You mortals don’t know how lucky you are.”
THE FEAST OF FORTUNA HAD NOTHING to do with tuna, which was fine with Percy.
“Otrera stayed dead the second time,” Kinzie said, batting her eyes. “We have you to thank for that. If you ever need a new girlfriend…well, I think you’d look great in an iron collar and an orange jumpsuit.” Percy couldn’t tell if she was kidding or not. He politely thanked her and changed seats.
She offered Hazel a gold pirate hat. “I’m gonna be Percy Jackson when I grow up,” she told Hazel solemnly. Hazel smiled and ruffled her hair. “That’s a good thing to be, Julia.”
