“Ah... Much better" he said. "Backbiter, Luke called it. An appropriate name. Now that it is reforged comeplately, it shall indeed bite back”

“Who's the other kid in the photo?' he asked. 'The sandy-haired guy.'Annabeth's expression tightened. Touchy subject.'That's Luke,' she said. 'He's dead now.”

“The driver got out smiling. He looked about seventeen or eighteen, and for a second, I had the uneasy feeling it was Luke, my old enemy. This guy had the same sandy hair and outdoorsy good looks. But it wasn't Luke. His smile was brighter and more playful. (Luke didn't do much more than scowl and sneer these days.) The Maserati driver wore jeans and loafers and a sleeveless T-shirt."Wow" Thalia muttered. Apollo Is hot.""He's the sun god," I said."That's not what I meant.”

“Poseidon raised his eyebrows as they shook hands. “Blowfish, did you say?”"Ah, no. Blofis, actually.”"Oh, I see,” Poseidon said. “A shame. I quite like blowfish. I am Poseidon.”"Poseidon? That’s an interesting name.”"Yes, I like it. I’ve gone by other names, but I do prefer Poseidon.”"Like the god of the sea.”"Very much like that, yes.”

“Now, as far as I knew, he (Luke) was still sailing around on his demon-infested cruise ship while the chopped-up Lord Kronos re-formed, bit by bit, in a golden sarcophagus, biding his time until he had enough power to challenge the Olympian gods. In demigod-speak, we call this a “problem.”- Percy, 'The Battle of the Labyrinth”

“Blood trickled from the corner of her (Annabeth) mouth. She croaked, "Family, Luke. You promised."Luke stared at the knife in Annabeth's hand, the blood on her face. "Promise." Then he gasped like he couldn't get air. "Annabeth . . ." But it wasn't the Titan's voice. It was Luke's. He stumbled forward like he couldn't control his own body. "You're bleeding. . . ." He gasped again."He's changing. Help. He's . . . he's almost ready. He won't need my body anymore. Please—""The knife, Percy," Annabeth muttered. Her breath was shallow. "Hero . . . cursed blade . . ."Luke turned and collapsed, clutching his ruined hands."Please, Percy . . ."Luke seemed to know what I was thinking. He moistened his lips. "You can't . . . can't do it yourself. He'll break my control. He'll defend himself. Only my hand. I know where. I can . . . can keep him controlled."I raised the knife to strike. Then I looked at Annabeth, at Grover. And I finally understood what she'd been trying to tell me. You are not the hero, Rachel had said. It will affect what you do. The line from the great prophecy echoed in my head: A hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap. My whole world tipped upside down,and I gave the knife to Luke.I watched as Luke grasped the hilt he stabbed himself”

“Who are you?" he asked."I'm a shabti, of course!" The figurine rubbed his dented head. He still looked quite lumpish, only now he was a living lump. "Master calls me Doughboy, though I find the name insulting. You may call me Supreme-Force-Who-Crushes-His-Enemies!”