Wouldn't That Put A Twist In Your

Families Are Messy. Immortal Families Are Eternally Messy. Sometimes The Best We Can Do Is To Remind Each Other That We're Related For Better Or For Worse...and Try To Keep The Maiming And Killing To A Minimum.

Your Uncle," Poseidon Sighed, "has Always Had A Flair For Dramatic Exits. I Think He Would've Done Well As The God Of Theater.

It Was Like Percy Had Faced Death Before, Like He Knew About Grief. What Mattered Was Listening. You Didn’t Need To Say You Were Sorry. The Only Thing That Helped Was Moving On—moving Forward.

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.

I Wondered If I Would Appear On A Temple Wall Painting Someday. A Blonde Egyptian Girl With Purple Highlights Running Sideways Through The Palm Trees, Screaming "yikes!" In Hieroglyphics As Neith Chased After Me. The Thought Of Some Poor Archaeologist Trying To Figure That Out Almost Lifted My Spirits.