Clea

“Percy says be talked to a Nereid in Charleston Harbor!”
“Good for him!” Leo yelled back.
“The Nereid said we should seek help from Chiron’s brothers.”
“What does that mean? The Party Ponies?” Leo had never met Chiron’s crazy centaur relatives, but he’d heard rumors of Nerf sword-fights, root beer-chugging contests, and Super Soakers filled with pressurized whipped cream.
“Not sure,” Annabeth said. “But I’ve got coordinates. Can you input latitude and longitude in this thing?”
“I can input star charts and order you a smoothie, if you want. Of course I can do latitude and longitude!”
― Rick Riordan, The Mark of Athena

“One basketball to rule them all.”
― Rick Riordan

“Leo waited while the fish centaur put away his supplies. Aphros's lobster-claw horns kept swimming around in his thick hair, and Leo had to resist the urge to try and rescue them.”
― Rick Riordan, The Mark of Athena

“She led him past the engine room, which looked like a very dangerous, mechanized jungle gym, with pipes and pistons and tubes jutting from a central bronze sphere. Cables resembling giant metal noodles snaked across the floor and ran up the walls.
“How does that thing even work?” Percy asked.
“No idea,” Annabeth said. “And I’m the only one besides Leo who can operate it.”
“That’s reassuring.”
“It should be fine. It’s only threatened to blow up once.”
“You’re kidding, I hope.”
She smiled. “Come on.”
― Rick Riordan, The Mark of Athena