Ares Percy Jackson Quotes

The real world is where the monsters are.

Nothing like watching your relatives fight, I always say.

Everybody was patting Nico on the back, complimenting him on his fighting. Even the Ares kids thought he was pretty cool. Hey, show up with an army of undead warriors to save the day, and suddenly you're everybody's best friend.

Two hundred Romans, and no one’s got a pen? Never mind!" He slung his M16 onto his back and pulled out a hand grenade. There were many screaming Romans. Then the hand grenade morphed into a ballpoint pen, and Mars began to write. Frank looked at Percy with wide eyes. He mouthed: Can your sword do grenade form? Percy mouthed back, No. Shut up.

The throne rumbled. A wave of gale-force anger slammed into me. WHO DARES- The voice stopped abruptly, The anger retreated, which was a good thing, because just those two words had almost blasted my mind to shreds. Percy. My fathers voice was still angry but more controlled. What-exactly-are you doing on my throne? "I'm sorry, Father," I said. "I needed to get your attention." This was a very dangerous thing to do. Even for you. If I hadn't looked before I blasted, you would now be a puddle of seawater.

You're pretty smug, Lord Ares, for a guy who runs from Cupid statues.

Festus just detected a large group of eagles behind us—long-range radar, still not in sight.” Piper leaned over the console. “Are you sure they’re Roman?” Leo rolled his eyes. “No, Pipes. It could be a random group of giant eagles flying in perfect formation. Of course they’re Roman!

Don't untie me," she said, "no matter what happens or how much I plead. I'll want to go straight over the edge and drown myself." "Are you trying to tempt me?" "Ha-ha.

My mother made a squeaking sound that might of been either "yes" or "help". Poseidon took it as a yes and came in. Paul was looking back and forth between us, trying to read our expressions. Finally he stepped forward. "Hi, I'm Paul Blofis." Poseidon raised an eyebrow and then shook his hand. "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" "Well!" My mother interrupted. "Um, were so glad you could drop by. Paul, this is Percy's father." "Ah." Paul nodded, though he didn't look real pleased. "I see." Poseidon smiled at me. "There you are, my boy. And Tyson, hello, son!" "Daddy!" Tyson [shouted]... Paul's jaw dropped. He stared at my mother. "Tyson is..." "Not mine," she promised. "It's a long story.

Hey, can I see that sword you were using?" I showed him Riptide, and explained how it turned from a pen into a sword just by uncapping it. "Cool! Does it ever run out of ink?" "Um, well, I don't actually write with it." "Are you really the son of Poseidon?" "Well, yeah." "Can you surf really well, then?" I looked at Grover, who was trying hard not to laugh. "Jeez, Nico," I said. "I've never really tried." He went on asking questions. Did I fight a lot with Thalia, since she was a daughter of Zeus? (I didn't answer that one.) If Annabeth's mother was Athena, the goddess of wisdom, then why didn't Annabeth know better than to fall off a cliff? (I tried not to strangle Nico for asking that one.) Was Annabeth my girlfriend? (At this point, I was ready to stick the kid in a meat-flavored sack and throw him to the wolves.)

The Council agrees," Zeus said. "Percy Jackson, you will have one gift from the gods." I hesitated. "Any gift?" Zeus nodded grimly. "I know what you will ask. The greatest gift of all. Yes, if you want it, it shall be yours. The gods have not bestowed this gift on a mortal hero in many centuries, but, Perseus Jackson-if you wish it-you shall be made a god. Immortal. Undying. You shall serve as your father's lieutenant for all time." I stared at him, stunned. "Um...a god?" Zeus rolled his eyes. "A dimwitted god, apparently. But yes. With the consensus of the entire Council, I can make you immortal. Then I will have to put up with you forever." "Hmm," Ares mused. "That means I can smash him to a pulp as often as I want, and he'll just keep coming back for more. I like this idea.

If the statue engulfs people in fire, we should send Leo.’ ‘I love you too, man.’ ‘You know what I mean. You’re immune. Or, heck, give me some of those nice water grenades and I’ll go. Ares and I have tangled before.

Wait just a minute," Ares growled. He pointed at Thalia and me. "These two are dangerous. It'd be much safer, while we've got them here—" "Ares," Poseidon interrupted, "they are worthy heroes. We will not blast my son to bits." "Nor my daughter," Zeus grumbled. "She has done well.

So," Annabeth said, "are you going to argue about me coming along?" "Nah. You'd just beat me up." Percy said. She managed a laugh, which was good to hear

George unhinged his jaw and coughed up a little plastic bottle filled with chewable vitamins. "You're kidding," I said. "Are those Minotaur-shaped?" Hermes picked up the bottle and rattled it. "The lemon ones, yes. The grape ones are Furies, I think. Or are they hydras? At any rate, these are potent."

As soon as the rocky coast line of the island came into view, I ordered one of the ropes to wrap around Annabeth's waist, tying her to the foremast. "Don't untie me," she said, "no matter what happens or how much I plead. I'll want to go straight over the edge and drown myself." "Are you trying to tempt me?" "Ha-ha.

Kronos couldn't have risen if it hadn't been for a lot of demigods who felt abandoned by their parents," I said. "They felt angry, resentful, and unloved, and they had a good reason." Zeus's royal nostrils flared. "You dare accuse-" "No more undetermined children," I said. "I want you to promise to claim your children-all your demigod children-by the time they turn thirteen. They won't be left out in the world on their own at the mercy of monsters. I want them claimed and brought to camp so they can be trained right, and survive." "Now, wait just a moment," Apollo said, but I was on a roll. "And the minor gods," I said. "Nemesis, Hecate, Morpheus, Janus, Hebe--they all deserve a general amnesty and a place at Camp Half-Blood. Their children shouldn't be ignored. Calypso and the other peaceful Titan-kind should be pardoned too. And Hades-" "Are you calling me a minor god?" Hades bellowed.

Tell me when it's over " Thalia said. Her eyes were shut tight. The statue was holding on to us so we couldn't fall but still Thalia clutched his arm like it was the most important thing in the world. "Everything's fine " I promised. "Are... are we very high " I looked down. Below us a range of snowy mountains zipped by. I stretched out my foot and kicked snow off one of the peaks. "Nah " I said. "Not that high.

Athena called, "Annabeth Chase, my own daughter." Annabeth squeezed my arm, then walked forward and knelt at her mother's feet. Athena smiled. "You, my daughter, have exceeded all expectations. You have used your wits, your strength, and your courage to defend this city, and our seat of power. It has come to our attention that Olympus is...well, trashed. The Titan lord did much damage that will have to be repaired. We could rebuild it by magic, of course, and make it just as it was. But the gods feel that the city could be improved. We will take this as an opportunity. And you, my daughter, will design these improvements." Annabeth looked up, stunned. "My...my lady?" Athena smiled wryly. "You are an architect, are you not? You have studied the techniques of Daedalus himself. Who better to redesign Olympus and make it a monument that will last for another eon?" "You mean...I can design whatever I want?" "As your heart desires," the goddess said. "Make us a city for the ages." "As long as you have plenty of statues of me," Apollo added. "And me," Aphrodite agreed. "Hey, and me!" Ares said. "Big statues with huge wicked swords and-" All right!" Athena interrupted. "She gets the point. Rise, my daughter, official architect of Olympus.

The taller they are, the longer they fall.

Annabeth frowned. "Percy's sword is a she?" Jack laughed. "Well, duh." Percy studied Riptide, though I could've told him from experience it was almost impossible to tell a sword's gender by looking at it. "I don't know," he said. "Are you sure -?" "Percy," said Alex. "Respect the gender." "Okay, fine," he said. "It's just kinda strange that I never knew." "On the other hand," Annabeth said, "you didn't know the pen could write until last year." "That's low, Wise Girl.

Um..." Hazel faltered. "You mean you won't... you're not going to-" "Claim your life?" Thantos asked. "Well, let's see..." He pulled a pure-black iPad from thin air. Death, tapped the screen a few times, and all Frank could think was: Please don't let there be an app for reaping souls. "I don't see you on the list," Thantos said. "Pluto gives me specific orders for escaped souls, you see. For some reason, he has not issued a warrant for yours. Perhaps he feels your life is not finished, or it could be n oversight. If you'd like me to call and ask-" "No!" Hazel yelped. "That's okay." "Are you sure?" Death asked helpfully. "I have video-conferencing enabled. I have his Skype address here somewhere...

I'm Crusty," he said, with a tartar-yellow smile. I resisted the urge to say, Yes, you are.

Because I’m not normal,” I said. “You say that as if it’s a bad thing, Percy. But you don’t realize how important you are.

Grilled satyr with mango chutney," Polyphemus mused. He looked back at Clarisse, still hanging over the pot of boiling water. "You a satyr too?" "No, you overgrown pile of dung!" she yelled. "I'm a girl! The daughter of Ares!Now untie me so i can rip your arms off!" "Rip my arms off," Polyphemus repeated. "And stuff them down your throat!" "You got spunk.

The real world is where the monsters are. That's where you learn whether you're any good or not.

You may choose to believe or not, but the fact is that immortal means immortal. Can you imagine that for a moment, never dying? Never fading? Existing, just as you are, for all time?

I am happy to crush my enemies underfoot, but I don't fight without reason. I don't want war without end.

The dead praetor raised his sword. ''Our desires reveal us. They show us for who we really are. Someone has come come for you, Jason Grace.

Ares’s power was causing my anger. He’d love it if I attacked. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

But the real world is where the monsters are. That's where you learn whether you're any good or not.

And NONE of you noticed?” The Ares campers developed a sudden interest in their combat boots.

He’d perfected his wolf stare over the last few months–a look that said: However bad you think you are, I’m worse. After strangling sea monsters and running over gorgons in a police car, Percy wasn’t scared of gangs. Pretty much nothing in the mortal world scared him anymore.

As thick-headed as he is, Ares has a point.” “Right!” Ares said. “Hey, wait a minute. Who you callin’—” He started to get up, but a grape vine grew around his waist like a seat belt and pulled him back down.

You want a bonbon?” Silena asked. “My dad sent them. He thought—he thought they might cheer me up.” “Are they any good?” I asked. She shook her head. “They taste like cardboard.” I didn’t have anything against cardboard, so I tried one.

Snack bar,” I said wistfully. “Snack bar,” she agreed. “Are you two crazy?” Grover said. “This place is weird.” We ignored him.

Zeus rolled his eyes. "A dimwitted god, apparently. But yes. With the consensus of the entire Council, I can make you immortal. Then I will have to put up with you forever." "Hmm," Ares mused. "That means I can smash him to a pulp as often as I want, and he'll just keep coming back for more. I like this idea." "I approve as well," Athena said, though she was looking at Annabeth. I glanced back. Annabeth was trying not to meet my eyes. Her face was pale. I flashed back to two years ago, when I'd thought she was going to take the pledge to Artemis and become a Hunter. I'd been on the edge of a panic attack, thinking that I'd lose her. Now, she looked pretty much the same way. I thought about the Three Fates, and the way I'd seen my life flash by. I could avoid all that. No aging, no death, no body in the grave. I could be a teenager forever, in top condition, powerful, and immortal, serving my father. I could have power and eternal life. Who could refuse that? Then I looked at Annabeth again. I thought about my friends from camp: Charles Beckendorf, Michael Yew, Silena Beauregard, so many others who were now dead. I thought about Ethan Nakamura and Luke. And I knew what to do. "No," I said. The Council was silent. The gods frowned at each other like they must have misheard. "No?" Zeus said. "You are . . . turning down our generous gift?" There was a dangerous edge to his voice, like a thunderstorm about to erupt. "I'm honored and everything," I said. "Don't get me wrong. It's just . . . I've got a lot of life left to live. I'd hate to peak in my sophomore year." The gods were glaring at me, but Annabeth had her hands over her mouth. Her eyes were shining. And that kind of made up for it.

Sometimes it's the smallest waves that knock you off your feet. Tsunamis—everybody know's they're powerful. Tidal waves—big and impressive. But those small waves? They hold a lot of power. They prove what the ocean is capable of, even when no one is paying attention (...) I always keep an eye on you, Percy, mostly from a distance, it's true. I've watched you save the world multiple times, conquering enemies that would scare most immortals. But it wasn't till today that I realized how much of a hero you truly are (...) You risked your life for a cupbearer you barely know. Not for a letter. Not because the fate of the world was at state. But because that's just who you are. Today, you created a small wave, and you showed what the ocean is capable of.

As for Ares's other sacred grove, the one in Colchis, things were run a little differently over there. The king was a guy named Aeetes. (As far as I can figure, that's pronounced "I Eat Tees.") His big claim to fame was that the Golden Fleece - that magical sheepskin rug I'm related to - ended up in his kingdom, which made the place immune to disease, invasion, stock market crashes, visits from Justin Bieber, and pretty much any other natural disaster.

Annabeth pushed over an easel. Architectural drawing scattered across the floor. “I used to respect you. You were my hero! You—you built amazing things. You solved problems. Now…I don’t know what you are. Children of Athena are supposed to be wise, not just clever. Maybe you are just a machine. You should have died two thousand years ago.

So if the gods fight,” I said, “will things line up the way they did with the Trojan War? Will it be Athena versus Poseidon?” She put her head against the backpack Ares had given us, and closed her eyes. “I don’t know what my mom will do. I just know I’ll fight next to you.” “Why?” “Because you’re my friend, Seaweed Brain. Any more stupid questions?

Otrera, we meet at last,’ he said. ‘Dang, girl, you’re fine.’ Otrera’s knees shook. It’s not every day you meet one of your favourite gods. But she didn’t bow or kneel. She was done bowing to men, even Ares. Also,

The book was The Art of War by Sun Tzu. Percy had never heard of it, but he could guess who sent it. The letter read: Good job, kid. A real man’s best weapon is his mind. This was your mom’s favorite book. Give it a read. P.S.—I hope your friend Percy has learned some respect for me. “Wow.” Percy handed back the book. “Maybe Mars is different than Ares. I don’t think Ares can read.

You're wounded," Annabeth told me. "Quick, Percy, get in the water." "I'm okay." "No, you're not," she said. "Chiron, watch this." I was too tired to argue. I stepped back into the creek, the whole camp gathering around me. Instantly, I felt better. I could feel the cuts on my chest closing up. Some of the campers gasped. "Look, I - I don't know why," I said, trying to apologize. "I'm sorry...." But they weren't watching my wounds heal. They were staring at something above my head. "Percy," Annabeth said, pointing. "Um ..." By the time I looked up, the sign was already fading, but I could still make out the hologram of green light, spinning and gleaming. A three-tipped spear: a trident. "Your father," Annabeth murmured. "This is really not good." "It is determined," Chiron announced. All around me, campers started kneeling, even the Ares cabin, though they didn't look happy about it. "My father?" I asked, completely bewildered. "Poseidon," said Chiron. "Earthshaker, Stormbringer, Father of Horses. Hail, Perseus Jackson, Son of the Sea God.

All around me, campers started kneeling, even the Ares cabin, though they didn't look happy about it. 'My father?' I asked, completely bewildered. 'Poseidon,' said Chiron. 'Earthshaker, Stormbringer, Father of Horses. Hail, Perseus Jackson, Son of the Sea God.

—¿Vas a pelear conmigo ahora? —le espeté—. ¿O vas a esconderte detrás de otro de tus cerditos? Ares estaba morado de rabia. —Ojo, chaval. Podría convertirte en… —… ¿una cucaracha o una lombriz? Sí, estoy seguro. Eso evitaría que patearan tu divino trasero, ¿verdad?

I love it," Ares said. "Is this Corinthian leather?" "Mortal skin, actually," Hephaestus said. Ares got teary-eyes. "This is the nicest gift...I—I can't even...

She fixed me with her cold gray stare, and I realized what a terrible enemy Athena would make, ten times worse than Ares or Dionysus or maybe even my father. Athena would never give up. She would never do something rash or stupid just because she hated you, and if she made a plan to destroy you, it would not fail.

She fixed me with her cold gray stare, and I realized what a terrible enemy Athena would make, ten times worse than Ares or Dionysus or maybe even my father. Athena would never give up. She would never do something rash or stupid just because she hated you, and if she made a plan to destroy you, it would not fail. Natalie: Athena scares me! She would be a… If she becomes Percy’s enemy she would just destroy him, without a hint of remorse.

Whenever divine or monstrous elements mix with the mortal world, they generate Mist, which obscures the vision of humans. You will see things just as they are, being a half-blood, but humans will interpret things quite differently. Remarkable, really, the lengths to which humans will go to fit things into their version of reality.

Fireworks exploded to life overhead: Hercules killing the Nemean lion, Artemis chasing the boar, George Washington (who, by the way, was a son of Athena) crossing the Delaware. ‘Hey, Grover,’ I called. He turned at the edge of the woods. ‘Wherever you’re going – I hope they make good enchiladas.’ Grover grinned, and then he was gone, the trees closing around him. ‘We’ll see him again,’ Annabeth said. I tried to believe it. The fact that no searcher had ever come back in two thousand years… well, I decided not to think about that. Grover would be the first. He had to be. July passed. I spent my days devising new strategies for capture-the-flag and making alliances with the other cabins to keep the banner out of Ares’s hands. I got to the top of the climbing wall for the first time without getting scorched by lava. From time to time, I’d walk past the Big House, glance up at the attic windows and think about the Oracle. I tried to convince myself that its prophecy had come to completion. You shall go west, and face the god who has turned. Been there, done that – even though the traitor god had turned out to be Ares rather than Hades.

Annabeth took a deep breath. “I, ah . . . well, it said, You shall delve in the darkness of the endless maze . . .” We waited. “The dead, the traitor, and the lost one raise.” Grover perked up. “The lost one! That must mean Pan! That’s great!” “With the dead and the traitor,” I added. “Not so great.” “And?” Chiron asked. “What is the rest?” “You shall rise or fall by the ghost king’s hand,” Annabeth said, “the child of Athena’s final stand.” Everyone looked around uncomfortably. Annabeth was a daughter of Athena, and a final stand didn’t sound good. “Hey . . . we shouldn’t jump to conclusions,” Silena said. “Annabeth isn’t the only child of Athena, right?” “But who’s this ghost king?” Beckendorf asked. No one answered. I thought about the Iris-message I’d seen of Nico summoning spirits. I had a bad feeling the prophecy was connected to that. “Are there more lines?” Chiron asked. “The prophecy does not sound complete.” Annabeth hesitated. “I don’t remember exactly.” Chiron raised an eyebrow. Annabeth was known for her memory. She never forgot something she heard. Annabeth shifted on her bench. “Something about . . . Destroy with a hero’s final breath.

Annabeth, come with me—” “Are you kidding?” She looked at me as if I’d just dropped from the moon. Her cheeks were bright red. “What’s the problem now?” I demanded. “Me, go with you to the . . . the ‘Thrill Ride of Love’? How embarrassing is that? What if somebody saw me?” “Who’s going to see you?” But my face was burning now, too. Leave it to a girl to make everything complicated. “Fine,” I told her. “I’ll do it myself.” But when I started down the side of the pool, she followed me, muttering about how boys always messed things up.

Of course the teachers want you medicated. Most of them are monsters. They don’t want you seeing them for what they are.

I know what I need to know, like, who my enemies are.

This is how you know you’ve found true love: when your significant other is just as bad at singing as you are.

I realized Ares must love to mess with people’s emotions. That was his power—cranking up the passions so badly, they clouded your ability to think.

Grover shook his head. “You know how it is. That could put them in more danger. Once they realize who they are, their scent becomes stronger.

But they’re your family!’ Annabeth protested. Ares shrugged. ‘Best kind of war. Always the bloodiest. Nothing like watching your relatives fight, I always say.

Hmm," Ares mused. "That means I can smash him to a pulp as often as I want, and he'll just keep coming back for more. I like this idea.

Up in Thrace, in the northern islands where Ares was raised, mortals worshipped him in the form of a sword. Maybe they painted a smiley face on the blade and called it Mr. Ares. I'm not sure.

In my dreams, I was back in Hades’ garden. The Lord of the Dead paced up and down, holding his ears while Nico followed him, waving his arms. ‘You have to!’ Nico insisted. Demeter and Persephone sat behind them at the breakfast table. Both of the goddesses looked bored. Demeter poured shredded wheat into four huge bowls. Persephone was magically changing the flower arrangement on the table, turning the blossoms from red to yellow to polka-dotted. ‘I don’t have to do anything!’ Hades’ eyes blazed. ‘I’m a god!’ ‘Father,’ Nico said, ‘if Olympus falls, your own palace’s safety doesn’t matter. You’ll fade, too.’ ‘I am not an Olympian!’ he growled. ‘My family has made that quite clear.’ ‘You are,’ Nico said. ‘Whether you like it or not.’ ‘You saw what they did to your mother,’ Hades said. ‘Zeus killed her. And you would have me help them? They deserve what they get!

According to the L.A. news, the explosion at the Santa Monica beach had been caused when a crazy kidnapper fired a shotgun at a police car. He accidentally hit a gas main that had ruptured during the earthquake. This crazy kidnapper (a.k.a. Ares) was the same man who had abducted me and two other adolescents in New York and brought us across country on a ten-day odyssey of terror. Poor little Percy Jackson wasn’t an international criminal after all. He’d caused a commotion on that Greyhound bus in New Jersey trying to get away from his captor (and afterward, witnesses would even swear they had seen the leather-clad man on the bus—“Why didn’t I remember him before?”). The crazy man had caused the explosion in the St. Louis Arch. After all, no kid could’ve done that. A concerned waitress in Denver had seen the man threatening his abductees outside her diner, gotten a friend to take a photo, and notified the police. Finally, brave Percy Jackson (I was beginning to like this kid) had stolen a gun from his captor in Los Angeles and battled him shotgun-to-rifle on the beach. Police had arrived just in time. But in the spectacular explosion, five police cars had been destroyed and the captor had fled. No fatalities had occurred. Percy Jackson and his two friends were safely in police custody.

I said warfare and wisdom," Athena explained. "I'll oversee the kind of combat that requires planning, craftiness, and high intelligence. You can still be in charge of the stupid, bloody, 'manly man' aspects of war." "Oh, all right," said Ares. Then he frowned. "Wait...what?

Your father,” Annabeth murmured. “This is really not good.” “It is determined,” Chiron announced. All around me, campers started kneeling, even the Ares cabin, though they didn’t look happy about it. “My father?” I asked, completely bewildered. “Poseidon,” said Chiron. “Earthshaker, Stormbringer, Father of Horses. Hail, Perseus Jackson, Son of the Sea God.

Grilled satyr with mango chutney,” Polyphemus mused. He looked back at Clarisse, still hanging over the pot of boiling water. “You a satyr, too?” “No, you overgrown pile of dung!” she yelled. “I’m a girl! The daughter of Ares! Now untie me so I can rip your arms off!” “Rip my arms off,” Polyphemus repeated. “And stuff them down your throat!” “You got spunk.” “Let me down!

story there was to tell about me. Thalia wiped the fog off the car window and peered outside. ‘Oh, yeah. This’ll be fun.’ Westover Hall looked like an evil knight’s castle. It was all black stone, with towers and slit windows and a big set of wooden double doors. It stood on a snowy cliff overlooking this big frosty forest on one side and the grey churning ocean on the other. ‘Are you sure you don’t want

Annabeth’s shroud was so beautiful—gray silk with embroidered owls—I told her it seemed a shame not to bury her in it. She punched me and told me to shut up. Being the son of Poseidon, I didn’t have any cabin mates, so the Ares cabin had volunteered to make my shroud. They’d taken an old bedsheet and painted smiley faces with X’ed-out eyes around the border, and the word LOSER painted really big in the middle.

But L.A. had a totally different feel from New York. Back home, everything seemed close. It didn’t matter how big the city was, you could get anywhere without getting lost. The street pattern and the subway made sense. There was a system to how things worked. A kid could be safe as long as he wasn’t stupid. L.A. wasn’t like that. It was spread out, chaotic, hard to move around. It reminded me of Ares. It wasn’t enough for L.A. to be big; it had to prove it was big by being loud and strange and difficult to navigate, too.

Hazel and Frank exchanged uneasy looks, like they’d already talked about this. ‘Percy …’Frank said. ‘If you want us to come along, we’re in. But are you sure? I mean … we know you’ve got tons of friends at the other camp. And you could pick anyone at Camp Jupiter now. If we’re not part of the seven, we’d understand –’ ‘Are you kidding?’ Percy said. ‘You think I’d leave my team behind? After surviving Fleecy’s wheat germ, running from cannibals and hiding under blue giant butts in Alaska? Come on!’ The tension broke. All three of them started cracking up, maybe a little too much, but it was a relief to be alive, with the warm sun shining, and not worrying – at least for the moment – about sinister faces appearing in the shadows of the hills.

PERCY JACKSON!" Poseidon announced. My name echoed around the chamber. All talking died down. The room was silent except for the crackle of the hearth fire. Everyone's eyes were on me—all the gods, the demigods, the Cyclopes, the spirits. I walked into the middle of the throne room. Hestia smiled at me reassuringly. She was in the form of a girl now, and she seemed happy and content to be sitting by her fire again. Her smile gave me courage to keep walking. First I bowed to Zeus. Then I knelt at my father's feet. "Rise, my son," Poseidon said. I stood uneasily. "A great hero must be rewarded," Poseidon said. "Is there anyone here who would deny that my son is deserving?" I waited for someone to pipe up. The gods never agreed on anything, and many of them still didn't like me, but not a single one protested. "The Council agrees," Zeus said. "Percy Jackson, you will have one gift from the gods." I hesitated. "Any gift?" Zeus nodded grimly. "I know what you will ask. The greatest gift of all. Yes, if you want it, it shall be yours. The gods have not bestowed this gift on a mortal hero in many centuries, but, Perseus Jackson—if you wish it—you shall be made a god. Immortal. Undying. You shall serve as your father's lieutenant for all time." I stared at him, stunned. "Um . . . a god?" Zeus rolled his eyes. "A dimwitted god, apparently. But yes. With the consensus of the entire Council, I can make you immortal. Then I will have to put up with you forever." "Hmm," Ares mused. "That means I can smash him to a pulp as often as I want, and he'll just keep coming back for more. I like this idea." "I approve as well," Athena said, though she was looking at Annabeth. I glanced back. Annabeth was trying not to meet my eyes. Her face was pale. I flashed back to two years ago, when I'd thought she was going to take the pledge to Artemis and become a Hunter. I'd been on the edge of a panic attack, thinking that I'd lose her. Now, she looked pretty much the same way. I thought about the Three Fates, and the way I'd seen my life flash by. I could avoid all that. No aging, no death, no body in the grave. I could be a teenager forever, in top condition, powerful, and immortal, serving my father. I could have power and eternal life. Who could refuse that? Then I looked at Annabeth again. I thought about my friends from camp: Charles Beckendorf, Michael Yew, Silena Beauregard, so many others who were now dead. I thought about Ethan Nakamura and Luke. And I knew what to do. "No," I said. The Council was silent. The gods frowned at each other like they must have misheard. "No?" Zeus said. "You are . . . turning down our generous gift?" There was a dangerous edge to his voice, like a thunderstorm about to erupt. "I'm honored and everything," I said. "Don't get me wrong. It's just . . . I've got a lot of life left to live. I'd hate to peak in my sophomore year." The gods were glaring at me, but Annabeth had her hands over her mouth. Her eyes were shining. And that kind of made up for it.

When a middle school teacher in San Antonio, Texas, named Rick Riordan began thinking about the troublesome kids in his class, he was struck by a topsy-turvy idea. Maybe the wild ones weren’t hyperactive; maybe they were misplaced heroes. After all, in another era the same behavior that is now throttled with Ritalin and disciplinary rap sheets would have been the mark of greatness, the early blooming of a true champion. Riordan played with the idea, imagining the what-ifs. What if strong, assertive children were redirected rather than discouraged? What if there were a place for them, an outdoor training camp that felt like a playground, where they could cut loose with all those natural instincts to run, wrestle, climb, swim, and explore? You’d call it Camp Half-Blood, Riordan decided, because that’s what we really are—half animal and half higher-being, halfway between each and unsure how to keep them in balance. Riordan began writing, creating a troubled kid from a broken home named Percy Jackson who arrives at a camp in the woods and is transformed when the Olympian he has inside is revealed, honed, and guided. Riordan’s fantasy of a hero school actually does exist—in bits and pieces, scattered across the globe. The skills have been fragmented, but with a little hunting, you can find them all. In a public park in Brooklyn, a former ballerina darts into the bushes and returns with a shopping bag full of the same superfoods the ancient Greeks once relied on. In Brazil, a onetime beach huckster is reviving the lost art of natural movement. And in a lonely Arizona dust bowl called Oracle, a quiet genius disappeared into the desert after teaching a few great athletes—and, oddly, Johnny Cash and the Red Hot Chili Peppers—the ancient secret of using body fat as fuel. But the best learning lab of all was a cave on a mountain behind enemy lines—where, during World War II, a band of Greek shepherds and young British amateurs plotted to take on 100,000 German soldiers. They weren’t naturally strong, or professionally trained, or known for their courage. They were wanted men, marked for immediate execution. But on a starvation diet, they thrived. Hunted and hounded, they got stronger. They became such natural born heroes, they decided to follow the lead of the greatest hero of all, Odysseus, and

You all done saying good-bye?” Ares came toward me, his black leather duster trailing behind him, his sword glinting like fire in the sunrise. “I’ve been fighting for eternity, kid. My strength is unlimited and I cannot die. What have you got?” A smaller ego, I thought,

Let me go!” I demanded. “Who do you think you are?” Zoë stepped forward as if to smack me. “No,” the other girl ordered. “I sense no disrespect, Zoë. He is simply distraught. He does not understand.” The young girl looked at me, her eyes colder and brighter than the winter moon. “I am Artemis,” she said. “Goddess of the Hunt.

I don't know. Just a feeling. Annabeth, come with me-' 'Are you kidding?' She looked at me as if I'd just dropped the moon. Her cheeks were bright red.

I don’t know what her problem is.” Rachel raised her eyebrows. “Are you sure you don’t know?” “What do you mean?” “Boys,” she muttered. “Totally blind.

answered my mother, or the camp, about whether I’d be staying. Now I had only a few hours to decide. The decision should have been easy. I mean, nine months of hero training or nine months of sitting in a classroom – duh. But there was my mom to consider. For the first time, I had the chance to live with her for a whole year, without Gabe. I had a chance be at home and knock around the city Gabe. I had a chance to be at home and knock around the city in my free time. I remembered what Annabeth had said so long ago on our quest: The real world is where the monsters are. That’s where you learn whether you’re any good or not.

Rachel raised her eyebrows. "Are you sure you don't know?" "What do you mean?" "Boys," she muttered. "Totally blind." "Hey, don't you get on my case, too!

chair with a place for his trident and his fishing pole. Ares’s

I’m Crusty,” he said, with a tartar-yellow smile. I resisted the urge to say, Yes, you are.

I love it,” Ares said. “Is this Corinthian leather?” “Mortal skin, actually,” Hephaestus said. Ares got teary-eyed. “This is the nicest gift…I—I can’t even…

No, father,” Ares mimicked. “You’re pathetic. I should’ve let one of my sons take this quest.

I couldn’t look away from Ares for fear he’d slice me in half, but out of the corner of my eye I saw red lights flashing on the shoreline boulevard. Car doors were slamming. “There, officer!” somebody yelled. “See?” A gruff cop voice: “Looks like that kid on TV…what the heck…” “That guy’s armed,” another cop said. “Call for backup.” I rolled to one side as Ares’s blade slashed the sand. I ran for my sword, scooped it up, and launched a swipe at Ares’s face, only to find my blade deflected again. Ares seemed to know exactly what I was going to do the moment before I did it. I stepped back toward the surf, forcing him to follow. “Admit it, kid,” Ares said. “You got no hope. I’m just toying with you.” My senses were working overtime. I now understood what Annabeth had said about ADHD keeping you alive in battle. I was wide awake, noticing every little detail. I could see where Ares was tensing. I could tell which way he would strike. At the same time, I was aware of Annabeth and Grover, thirty feet to my left. I saw a second cop car pulling up, siren wailing. Spectators, people who had been wandering the streets because of the earthquake, were starting

Yeah, I know what they are, but…that was when my mom was little, like a million years ago. What’s he doing here?

—Presiento que el chico dice la verdad —murmuró Zeus—. Pero que Ares haya hecho algo así... es impropio de él. —Es orgulloso e impulsivo —comentó Poseidón—. Le viene de familia. —¿Señor? —tercié. Ambos respondieron al unísono: —¿Sí? —Ares no actuó solo. La idea se le ocurrió a otro, a otra cosa.

On the shore stood the god Ares, seven feet tall in full bronze combat armor, with a flaming spear in his hand.

Then Annabeth was running along beside him, reaching out her hand. ‘Thank the gods!’ she called. ‘For months and months we couldn’t see you! Are you all right?’ Percy remembered what Juno had said – for months he has been slumbering, but now he is awake. The goddess had intentionally kept him hidden, but why? ‘Are you real?’ he asked Annabeth. He wanted so much to believe it that he felt like Hannibal the elephant was standing on his chest. But her face began to dissolve. She cried, ‘Stay put! It’ll be easier for Tyson to find you! Stay where you are!’ Then she was gone. The images accelerated. He saw a huge ship in a dry dock, workers scrambling to finish the hull, a guy with a blowtorch welding a bronze dragon figurehead to the prow. He saw the war god stalking towards him in the surf, a sword in his hands. The scene shifted. Percy stood on the Field of Mars, looking up at the Berkeley Hills. Golden grass rippled, and a face appeared in the landscape – a sleeping woman, her features formed from shadows and folds in the terrain. Her eyes remained closed, but her voice spoke in Percy’s mind: So this is the demigod who destroyed my son Kronos. You don’t look like much, Percy Jackson, but you’re valuable to me. Come north. Meet Alcyoneus. Juno can play her little games with Greeks and Romans, but in the end, you will be my pawn. You will be the key to the gods’ defeat. Percy’s vision turned dark. He stood in a theatre-sized version of the camp’s headquarters – a principia with walls of ice and freezing mist hanging in the air. The floor was littered with skeletons in Roman armour and Imperial gold weapons encrusted with frost. In the back of the room sat an enormous shadowy figure. His skin glinted with gold and silver, as

Thalia gave her life to save you,’ I said, gritting my teeth. ‘And this is how you repay her?’ ‘Don’t speak of Thalia!’ he shouted. ‘The gods let her die! That’s one of the many things they will pay for.’ ‘You’re being used, Luke. You and Ares both. Don’t listen to Kronos.’ ‘I’ve been used?’ Luke’s voice turned shrill. ‘Look at yourself. What has your dad ever done for you? Kronos will rise. You’ve only delayed his plans. He will cast the Olympians into Tartarus and drive humanity back to their caves. All except the strongest – the ones who serve him.’ ‘Call off the bug,’ I said. ‘If you’re so strong, fight me yourself.’ Luke smiled. ‘Nice try, Percy. But I’m not Ares. You can’t bait me. My lord is waiting, and he’s got plenty of quests for me to undertake.’ ‘Luke –’ ‘Goodbye, Percy. There is a new Golden Age coming. You won’t be part of it.

Annabeth’s usually not like this,’ I told her. ‘I don’t know what her problem is.’ Rachel raised her eyebrows. ‘Are you sure you don’t know?’ ‘What do you mean?’ ‘Boys,’ she muttered. ‘Totally blind.

Ares bellowed, “There’s my girl!

I stepped into the surf. “Fight me yourself, Ares.” He laughed, but I heard a little edge to his laughter… an uneasiness. “You've only got one talent, kid, running away. You ran from the Chimera. You ran from the Underworld. You don't have what it takes.” “Scared?

Ares Reward Program.

Clarisse threw her knife on the Ping-Pong table. “All of you can fight this war without Ares. Until I get satisfaction, no one in my cabin is lifting a finger to help. Have fun dying.

You want a bonbon?” Silena asked. “My dad sent them. He thought—he thought they might cheer me up.” “Are they any good?” I asked. She shook her head. “They taste like cardboard.

The Ares cabin wasn’t here, but I tried not to get too angry about that. Clarisse was a stubborn idiot. End of story.

Something is about to happen. Rachel’s words rang in my ears. A trick that ends in death. Now I knew what she meant, and I knew who the hero was who had led the Ares cabin into battle. I looked down at the dying face of Silena Beauregard.

Hephaestus felt like he’d been hit in the face with a three-pound club hammer—one of the really nice ones with the fiberglass grip and the double-faced drop-forged steel head. “Cheating on me?” he asked. “Impossible!” “Possible,” Helios said grimly. “I saw them myself. Not that I was looking! But, well, they were kind of hard to miss.” The sun Titan explained that Aphrodite and Ares often sneaked into Hephaestus’s apartment while the blacksmith god was working in the forges. Right there in his own bedroom, they got extremely naughty.

I know who you are, Percy Jackson. I’ve been watching you.

The real world is where the monsters are. That’s where you learn whether you’re any good or not.

Artemis tells us men are stupid brutes. Therefore, let us worship Ares, the stupidest manly brute of all.