Percy Jackson and the Titan's Curse (Percy Jackson and the Olympians, #3)

by Rick Riordan

The young girl looked at me, her eyes colder and brighter than the winter moon. ‘I am Artemis,’ she said. ‘Goddess of the Hunt.’

After seeing Dr Thorn turn into a monster and plummet off the edge of a cliff with Annabeth, you’d think nothing else could shock me. But when this twelve-year-old girl told me she was the goddess Artemis, I said something really intelligent like, ‘Um … okay.’

Artemis’s silver eyes gleamed. ‘Yes, boy. You see, Bianca di Angelo is not the only one with an annoying brother. It’s time for you to meet my irresponsible twin, Apollo.’

‘You satyrs. You’re all in love with Artemis. Don’t you get that she’ll never love you back?’ ‘But she’s so … into nature,’ Grover swooned.

‘Wow,’ Thalia muttered. ‘Apollo is hot.’ ‘He’s the sun god,’ I said. ‘That’s not what I meant.’

It seemed weird calling a teenager ‘sir’, but I’d learned to be careful with immortals. They tended to get offended easily. Then they blew stuff up.

‘It’s cool. No sword. See? No sword. Calm thoughts. Sea grass. Mama cows. Vegetarianism.’

‘Over two hundred metres tall,’ I said. ‘Built in the 1930s.’ ‘Five million cubic acres of water,’ Thalia said. Grover sighed. ‘Largest construction project in the United States.’ Zoë stared at us. ‘How do you know all that?’ ‘Annabeth,’ I said. ‘She liked architecture.’

As for me, I did the stupidest thing of my life, which is saying a lot. I attacked the Titan Lord Atlas.

‘Ares,’ Poseidon interrupted, ‘they are worthy heroes. We will not blast my son to bits.’ ‘Nor my daughter,’ Zeus grumbled. ‘She has done well.’

There are parties, and then there are huge, major, blowout parties. And then there are Olympian parties. If you ever get a choice, go for the Olympian.