Think About Isis,” Jaz Repeated. “and Sadie…there

Number Eight, The Silver One, Belongs To Artemis. She Vowed To Be A Maiden Forever. So Of Course, No Kids. The Cabin Is, You Know, Honorary. If She Didn't Have One, She'd Be Mad.

Piper Leaned Toward [jason], Her Caramel Braid Falling Over Her Shoulder. Her Multicolored Eyes Made It Hard For Him To Think Straight. “and Where Is This Place?” She Asked. “a . . . Uh, A Town Called Split.” “split.” She Smelled Really Good—like Blooming Honeysuckle. “um, Yeah.” Jason Wondered If Piper Was Working Some Sort Of Aphrodite Magic On Him—like Maybe Every Time He Mentioned Reyna’s Name, She Would Befuddle Him So Much He Couldn’t Think About Anything But Piper. He Supposed It Wasn’t The Worst Sort Of Revenge.

Carter Started Down The Stairs, But I Grabbed His Arm. “hang On. What About Traps?” He Frowned. “traps?” “didn’t Egyptian Tombs Have Traps?” “well…sometimes. But This Isn’t A Tomb. Besides, More Often They Had Curses, Like The Burning Curse, The Donkey Curse—” “oh, Lovely. That Sounds So Much Better.

Everybody Loves To Show Up At The Party Once All The Hard Work Is Done.

He Looked Like An Evil Male Model, Showing Off What The Fashionable College Age Villain Was Wearing To Harvard This Year.