“Aretmis gripped her bow. “Let us pray I am wrong.”Can goddesses pray?”

“Very well! It shall be as you say. But my son, pray this works.I am praying. I'm talking to you, right?Oh...yes. Good point. Amphitrite - incoming!”

“Is Tyson okay?" I asked.The question seemed to take my dad by surprise. He's fine. Doing much better than I expected. Though "peanut butter" is a strange battle cry."You let him fight?"Stop changing the subject! You realize what you are asking me to do? My palace will be destroyed."And Olympus might be saved."Do you have any idea how long I've worked on remodeling this palace? The game room alone took six hundred years."Dad—"Very well! It shall be as you say. But my son, pray this works."I am praying. I'm talking to you, right?"Oh . . . yes. Good point.”

“My sister, with her ratty red-highlighted hair and her linen pajamas and her combat boots—how could she possibly worry about being possessed by a goddess? What goddess would want her, except the goddess of chewing gum?”

“I prayed the monsters would give up. Or that perhaps Philip of Macedonia would climb back to the terrace (do crocodiles climb?) and renew the fight.”

“Zia," I said, "that's a goddess. She defeated Bast. What chance do you have?"Zia held up her staff and the carved lion's head burst into flames - a small red fireball so bright, it lit the entire room. "I am a scribe in the House of Life, Sadie Kane. I am trained to fight gods.”

“Um," Grover said. "Percy?""Yeah?""I thought you'd want to know.""Yeah?""Cerberus? He's saying we've got ten seconds to pray to the god of our choice.After that...well...he's hungry.”