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He yelled something to his fellow blacksmiths - probably 'for Poseidon!' - but with his mouth full of peanut butter it sounded like, 'PUH PTEH BUN.' His brethren all grabbed hammers and chisles, yelled, 'PEANUT BUTTER!' and charged behind Tyson into battle.
'Percy, I told you I was sorry. Please...let me come with you. I want to fight.'
'You'll be more help down here.'
'You mean you don't trust me any more,' he said miserably.
I didn't answer. I didn't know what I meant. I was to stunned by what I'd just done in battle to think clearly.
'Just go back to your father,' I said, trying not to sound to harsh.
'Hey, why do pegasi gallops as they fly, anyway?'
Blackjack whinned. Why do humans swing their arms as they walk? I dunno, boss. It just feels right.
'Your powers drain you to much,' I noted.
He nodded sleepily. 'With great power...comes great need to take a nap. Wake me up later.'
~Nico
Annabeth handed me the parchment. It felt dry and old, and my fingers fumbled with the string. I uncurled the paper, trying not to rip it, and began to read:
'A half-blood of the eldest dogs...'
'Er, Percy?' Annabeth interrupted. 'That`s gods. Not dogs.'
'Oh, right,' I said. Being dyslxic is one mark of a demigod, and sometimes I really hate it. The more nervous I am, the worse my reading gets.
The end of the world started when a pegasus landed on the hood of my car.
Another thing I learned: it's one thing to climb a rope in gym class. It's a completely different thing to climb a rope attached to a moving pig's wing while you're flying at a hundred miles an hour.
"Kronos would be ten times more powerful. His very presence would incinerate you. And once he achieves this, he will empower the other Titans. They are weak now, compared to what they will soon become, unless you can stop them. The world will fall, the gods will die, and I will never achieve a perfect score on this stupid machine. " - Dionysus
'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.'
I love New York. You can pop out of the Underworld in Central Park, hail a taxi, head down Fifth Avenue with a giant hellhound loping along behind you and nobody even looks at you funny.