The Lost Hero (The Heroes of Olympus, #1)

by Rick Riordan

“Yo, Coach Supergoat, whatever you are—I just fell down the freaking Grand Canyon! Stop asking for challenges!”

“She’s going out of her mind with worry. She hoped he’d be here.” “Who?” Jason asked. “Her boyfriend,” Butch said. “A guy named Percy Jackson.”

Leo choked. “Your mom is a rainbow goddess?” “Got a problem with that?” Butch said. “No, no,” Leo said. “Rainbows. Very macho.”

Annabeth turned to Chiron. “Not Kronos. Please tell me it’s not that.”

Jason scratched his head. “You named him Festus? You know that in Latin, ‘festus’ means ‘happy’? You want us to ride off to save the world on Happy the Dragon?”

“Can we just call them storm spirits?” Leo asked. “Venti makes them sound like evil espresso drinks.”

Leo whistled. “So…giants who can throw mountains. Friendly wolves that will eat us if we show weakness. Evil espresso drinks. Gotcha. Maybe this isn’t the time to bring up my psycho babysitter.”

“And our dragon is malfunctioning!” Piper added. “It could crash any minute!” Festus shuddered helpfully, then turned his head and spilled gunk out of his ear, splattering a black Mercedes in the parking lot below.

“Which one do you think is Dylan?” Leo asked. “I wanna throw something at him.”

“Oh, no way,” Leo said. “We’ve been sitting in a cave and you get the luxury tent? Somebody give me hypothermia. I want hot chocolate and a parka!”

“But beauty is about finding the right fit, the most natural fit. To be perfect, you have to feel perfect about yourself—avoid trying to be something you’re not.

If I really believed in Ghost Country, or animal spirits, or Greek gods…I don’t think I could sleep at night. I’d always be looking for somebody to blame.

FLY A HELICOPTER? SURE, WHY NOT. Leo had done plenty of crazier things that week.

Leo grinned. “See, lady, that’s what happens to snow in Texas. It—freaking—melts.”

“That was Hera,” Thalia grumbled. “Her Majesty, the Loose Cannon.”

“An exchange goes two ways,” Jason said. “When I got here, my memory was wiped. I didn’t know who I was or where I belonged. Fortunately, you guys took me in and I found a new home. I know you’re not my enemy. The Roman camp—they’re not so friendly. You prove your worth quickly, or you don’t survive. They may not be so nice to him, and if they learn where he comes from, he’s going to be in serious trouble.”

“Exactly,” Jason agreed. “Percy Jackson is at the other camp, and he probably doesn’t even remember who he is.”