“Whenever Percy stopped by to see [Annabeth], she was so lost in thought that the conversation went something like this:Percy: 'Hey, how's it going?'Annabeth: 'Uh, no thanks.'Percy: 'Okay...have you eaten anything today?'Annabeth: 'I think Leo is on duty. Ask him.'Percy: 'So, my hair is on fire.'Annabeth: 'Okay, in a while.”
“A little background: Annabeth used to adventure with Hermes's son Luke. Over time, Annabeth developed a crush on Luke. As Annabeth got older, Luke developed feelings for her, too. Luke turned evil. Hermes blamed Annabeth for not preventing Luke from turning evil. Annabeth blamed Hermes for being a rotten dad and giving Luke the capacity to become evil in the first place. Luke died in war. Hermes and Annabeth blamed each other.Confused? Welcome to my world.”
“Until she met the exploding statue, Annabeth thought she was prepared for anything.”
“The cord, a familiar voice said. Remember your lifeline, dummy!Suddenly there was a tug in my lower back. The current pulled at me, but it wasn't carrying me away anymore. I imagined the string in my back keeping me tied to the shore."Hold on, Seaweed Brain." It was Annabeth's voice, much clearer now. "You're not getting away from me that easily."The cord strengthened.I could see Annabeth now- standing barefoot above me on the canoe lake pier. I'd fallen out of my canoe. That was it. She was reaching out her hand to haul me up, and she was trying not to laugh. She wore her orange camp T-shirt and jeans. Her hair was tucked up in her Yankees cap, which was strange because that should have made her invisible."You are such an idiot sometimes." She smiled. "Come on. Take my hand."Memories came flooding back to me- sharper and more colorful. I stopped dissolving. My name was Percy Jackson. I reached up and took Annabeth's hand.”
“Neither torch nor dagger," Annabeth said firmly. "There is a third test, which I will pass." "A third test?" the pater demanded. "Mithras was born from rock," Annabeth said, hoping she was right. "He emerged fully grown from the stone, holding his dagger and torch." The screaming and wailing told her she had guessed correctly. "The big mother knows all!" a ghost cried. "That is our most closely guarded secret!" Then maybe you shouldn't put a statue of it on your altar, Annabeth thought.”
“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”