Rick Riordan
Rick Riordan
Richard Russell "Rick" Riordan, Jr. is an American author known for writing the Percy Jackson & the Olympians series, which is about a twelve-year-old who discovers he is a son of Poseidon. His books have been translated into 37 languages and sold more than 30 million copies in the US. Twentieth Century Fox has adapted the first two books of his Percy Jackson series as part of a series of films. His books have spawned related media, such as graphic novels...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionYoung Adult Author
Date of Birth5 June 1964
CountryUnited States of America
I need to talk to Clarisse," Annabeth said. I stared at her as if she'd just said "I need to eat a large, smelly boot." "What for?
Tyson! Thank the gods, Annabeth is hurt!" "You thank the gods that she is hurt?" he asked, puzzled.
It's just Annabeth mom jeez!
Percy tried to remember. He really did. For some reason, Annabeth and he had visited a spa and decided to destroy it. He couldn't imagine why. Maybe they hadn't like the deep-tissue massage? Maybe they'd gotten bad manicures?
Which reminded me...I still owed the gods a debt. "You're a genius," I (Percy) told Annabeth.
Okay," Annabeth said. "What exactly do you smell?" "Something bad," Tyson answered. "Great," Annabeth grumbled. "That clears it up.
He could't have survied a hundred foot drop. I'm sorry Annabeth.
Luke gazed at Annabeth. "You knew. I almost killed you, but you knew . . ." "Shhh." Her voice trembled. "You were a hero at the end, Luke.
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
I tried to talk to Annabeth, but she was acting like I'd just punched her grandmother.
Annabeth's voice caught on the word friend. Percy was a lot more than that. Even boyfriend really didn't cover it. They'd been through so much together, at this point Percy was part of her--a sometimes annoying part, sure, but definitely a part she could not live without.
Annabeth sat up and glared at her ankle. "You HAD to break," she scolded it. The ankle did not reply.
During their separation, something had happened to Annabeth's feelings. They'd grown painfully intense-like she'd been forced to withdraw from a life-saving medication. Now she wasn't sure which was more excruciating-living with that horrible absence, or being with him again.
And togheter, holding hands, he and Annabeth fell into the endless darkness