Percy Jackson. Book 2. The Sea of Monsters

Hermes said. “Young people don’t always do what they’re told, but if they can pull it off and do something wonderful, sometimes they escape punishment

The Colchis bulls, made by Hephaestus himself. We can’t fight them without Medea’s Sunscreen SPF 50,000. We’ll get burned to a crisp

“Dude!” the centaur groaned, almost buckling under Tyson’s weight. “Do the words ‘low-carb diet’ mean anything to you?”

He lay down in his bunk and was quiet in the dark. His body was way too long for his bed. When he pulled up the covers, his feet stuck out the bottom. "I am a monster."

"Don't say that."

"It is okay. I will be a good monster. Then you will not have to be mad."

"We will win.'" He beamed.

We are so going to lose,

I had nightmares about what Poseidon might turn me into if I were ever on the verge of death— plankton, maybe. Or a floating patch of kelp.

Annabeth shouted: "Tyson, help him!"

Somewhere near, toward the crest of the hill, Tyson wailed, "Can't—get—through!"

"I, Annabeth Chase, give you permission to enter camp!"

I wished Annabeth were here.

Tyson gave me such a grateful look I felt like a big liar. How could I promise a kid like him that anything would be fine?

Tomorrow, I'd be on my way to my favorite place in the world—Camp Half-Blood.