Citações na Categoria 'the-heroes-of-olympus'

Percy was getting tired of water.If he said that aloud, he would probably get kicked out of Poseidon’s Junior Sea Scouts, but he didn’t care.

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Annabeth,” he said hesitantly, “in New Rome, demigods can live their whole lives in peace.” Her expression turned guarded. “Reyna explained it to me. But, Percy, you belong at Camp Half-Blood. That other life—”“I know,” Percy said. “But while I was there, I saw so many demigods living without fear: kids going to college, couples getting married and raising families. There’s nothing like that at Camp Half-Blood. I kept thinking about you and me…and maybe someday when this war with the giants is over…”It was hard to tell in the golden light, but he thought Annabeth was blushing. “Oh,” she said…“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just…I had to think of that to keep going. To give me hope. Forget I mentioned—”“No!” she said. “Gods, Percy, that’s so sweet.

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Annabeth realized that if six of them went on these two quests, it would leave Percy alone on the ship with Coach Hedge, which was maybe not a situation a caring girlfriend should put him in. Nor was she eager to let Percy out of her sight again—not after they’d been apart for so many months.

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Percy blinked. “So your brother is a winged horse. But you’re also my half brother, which means all the flying horses in the world are my…You know what? Lets’ forget it.

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He’d learned years ago it was better not to dwell too much on who was related to whom on the godly side of things. After Tyson the Cyclops adopted him as a brother, Percy decided that that was about as far as he wanted to extend the family.

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Anybody have any money?”Frank checked his pockets. “Three denarii from Camp Jupiter. Five dollars Canadian.”Hedge patted his gym shorts and pulled out what he found. “Three quarters, two dimes, a rubber band and—score! A piece of celery.”He started munching on the celery, eyeing the change and the rubber band like they might be next.

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Looking at the elementary schoolers in their colorful T-shirts from various day camps, Percy felt a twinge of sadness. He should be at Camp Half-Blood right now, settling into his cabin for the summer, teaching sword-fighting lessons in the arena, playing pranks on the other counselors. These kids had no idea just how crazy a summer camp could be.

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What exactly did you find in Atlanta?”Frank unzipped his backpack and started bringing out souvenirs. “Some peach preserves. A couple of T-shirts. A snow globe. And, um, these not-really-Chinese handcuffs.”Annabeth forced herself to stay calm. “How about you start from the top—of the story, not the backpack.

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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!

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[Piper] rushed to get dressed. By the time she got up on deck, the others had already gathered—all hastily dressed except for Coach Hedge, who had pulled the night watch. Frank’s Vancouver Winter Olympics shirt was inside out. Percy wore pajama pants and a bronze breastplate, which was an interesting fashion statement. Hazel’s hair was all blown to one side as though she’d walked through a cyclone; and Leo had accidentally set himself on fire. His T-shirt was in charred tatters. His arms were smoking.

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Swords can’t solve every problem.

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Annabeth gripped the hilt of her dagger. “A bounty on our heads . . . as if we didn’t attract enough monsters already.”“Do we get WANTED posters?” Leo asked. “And do they have our bounties, like, broken down on a price li

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Piper and Hazel were ready to go, but first Annabeth turned to Percy, who was leaning on the starboard rail, gazing over the bay. Annabeth took his hand. “What are you going to do while we’re go

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I’m nobody’s sidekick,” Annabeth growled. “And, Percy, his accent sounds familiar because he sounds like his mother. We killed her in New Jersey.”Percy frowned. “I’m pretty sure that accent isn’t New Jersey. Who’s his—? Oh.”It all fell into place. Aunty Em’s Garden Gnome Emporium—the lair of Medusa. She’d talked with that same accent, at least until Percy had cut off her

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Percy looked at Coach Hedge and Frank. “A trap?”“Probably,” Frank said. “She’s not mortal,” Hedge said, sniffing the air. “Probably some kind of goat-eating, demigod-destroying fiend from Tartarus.”“No doubt,” Percy agreed. “Awesome.” Hedge grinned. “Let’s go.

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