By Rick Riordan
Percy is confused. whilst he woke up after his lengthy sleep, he did not comprehend even more than his identify. His brain-fuzz is lingering, even after the wolf Lupa instructed him he's a demigod and informed him to struggle. one way or the other Percy controlled to make it to the camp for half-bloods, even though he needed to always kill monsters that, annoyingly, wouldn't remain lifeless. however the camp does not ring any bells with him.
Hazel is meant to be dead. while she lived prior to, she did not do an excellent activity of it. whilst the Voice took over her mom and commanded Hazel to take advantage of her "gift" for an evil goal, Hazel could not say no. Now, due to her mistake, the way forward for the area is in danger.
Frank is a klutz. His grandmother claims he's descended from historical heroes, yet he does not even be aware of who his father is. He retains hoping Apollo will declare him, as the in basic terms factor he's strong at is archery. His substantial and ponderous body makes him suppose like an ungainly ox, specifically in entrance of Hazel, his closest pal at camp. He trusts her completely-enough, even, to percentage the key he holds just about his center.
Beginning on the "other" camp for half-bloods and lengthening as some distance north because the land past the gods, this breathtaking moment installment within the Heroes of Olympus sequence introduces new demigods, revives fearsome monsters, and lines different impressive creatures, all of whom are destined to play an element within the most crucial quest of all: the Prophecy of 7.
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Additional resources for The Son of Neptune (Heroes of Olympus, Book 2)
The platter went a technique. Percy went the opposite. As he fell in the direction of the street, a terrible state of affairs flashed via his brain: his physique smashing opposed to an SUV’s windshield, a few pissed off commuter attempting to push him off with the wipers. silly sixteen-year-old child falling from the sky! I’m past due! Miraculously, a gust of wind blew him to at least one part – simply enough to overlook the road and crash right into a clump of trees. It wasn’t a gentle touchdown, however it was once greater than tarmac. Percy groaned. He desired to lie there and cross out, yet he needed to continue relocating. He struggled to his toes. His arms have been scratched up, yet no bones looked to be damaged. He nonetheless had his backpack. someplace at the sled trip he’d misplaced his sword, yet Percy knew it's going to ultimately reappear in his pocket in pen shape. That was once a part of its magic. He glanced up the hill. The gorgons have been not easy to overlook, with their vibrant snake hair and their vivid eco-friendly cut price Mart vests. They have been deciding upon their approach down the slope, going slower than Percy yet with much more regulate. these bird toes must’ve been stable for mountaineering. Percy figured he had perhaps 5 mins prior to they reached him. subsequent to him, a tall chain-link fence separated the street from a neighbourhood of winding streets, comfortable homes and eucalyptus bushes. The fence was once most likely there to maintain humans from getting onto the road and doing silly issues – like sledding into the short lane on snack trays – however the chain-link was once jam-packed with giant holes. Percy may well simply slip via into the neighbourhood. probably he may discover a automobile and force west to the sea. He didn’t like stealing vehicles, yet over the last few weeks, in life-and-death events, he’d ‘borrowed’ a number of, together with a police cruiser. He’d intended to come them, yet they by no means looked as if it would final very lengthy. He glanced east. simply as he’d figured, 100 yards uphill the street lower in the course of the base of the cliff. tunnel entrances, one for every path of site visitors, stared down at him like eye sockets of a large cranium. within the heart, the place the nostril may were, a cement wall jutted from the hillside, with a steel door just like the front to a bunker. it may possibly were a upkeep tunnel. That’s most likely what mortals notion, in the event that they spotted the door in any respect. yet they couldn’t see throughout the Mist. Percy knew the door was once greater than that. little ones in armour flanked the doorway. They wore a extraordinary mixture of plumed Roman helmets, breastplates, scabbards, blue denims, red T-shirts and white running shoes. The safeguard at the correct gave the impression of a woman, although it used to be tough to inform evidently with the entire armour. the only at the left used to be a stocky man with a bow and quiver on his again. either little ones held lengthy wood staffs with iron spear guidance, like outdated harpoons. Percy’s inner radar was once pinging like loopy. After such a lot of terrible days, he’d ultimately reached his aim. His instincts informed him that if he can make it within that door he may well locate protection for the 1st time because the wolves had despatched him south. So why did he think such dread?