The Crown of Ptolemy (Demigods & Magicians, #3)

by Rick Riordan

“Percy, explaining things to you is like lecturing a gerbil.”

Across the field, Carter’s voice yelled: “STAHP!” I guess stahp is actually a word in Ancient Egyptian. Who knew?

As for the Duat, it was always churning, sending up plumes of magic like sun flares into the mortal world.

Now…I live and breathe weirdness. It goes with the territory when you’re a demigod. But there are still moments when I do a mental double take: like when I’m flying upward inside a giant glowing vulture, flapping my arms to control make-believe wings, holding an almost-immortal magician in my talons…all so I can steal his hat.

“This has been a weird day,” I told Annabeth. She slipped her hand into mine. “I’m thinking cheeseburgers for dinner at P. J. Clarke’s.” “With bacon,” I said. “We’ve earned it.” “I love the way you think,” she said. “And I’m glad you’re not a god.” She kissed me, and I decided that I was glad too. A kiss in the sunset and the promise of a good bacon cheeseburger—with that kind of payoff, who needs immortality?