Poseidon raised his eyebrows as they shook hands. “Blowfish, did you say?”

"Ah, no. Blofis, actually.”

"Oh, I see,” Poseidon said. “A shame. I quite like blowfish. I am Poseidon.”

"Poseidon? That’s an interesting name.”

"Yes, I like it. I’ve gone by other names, but I do prefer Poseidon.”

"Like the god of the sea.”

"Very much like that, yes.

Poseidon put his weathered hand on my shoulder. “Percy, lesser beings do many horrible things in the name of the gods. That does not mean we gods approve. The way our sons and daughters act in our names…well, it usually says more about them than it does about us. And you, Percy, are my favorite son.

Poseidon grinned. "You're doing well with those new cabins, by the way. I suppose this means I can claim all those other sons and daughters of mine and send you some siblings next summer."
"Ha-ha."
Poseidon reeled in his empty line.
I shifted my feet. "Um, you were kidding, right?"
Poseidon gave me one of his inside-joke winks, and I still didn't know whether he was serious or not.

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.
"You let him fight?"
Stop changing the subject! You realize what you are asking me to do? My palace will be destroyed.
"And Olympus might be saved."
Do you have any idea how long I've worked on remodeling this palace? The game room alone took six hundred years.
"Dad—"
Very well! It shall be as you say. But my son, pray this works.
"I am praying. I'm talking to you, right?"
Oh . . . yes. Good point.

I couldn’t miss Percy’s fifteenth birthday,” Poseidon said. “Why, if this were Sparta, Percy would be a man today!”

"That’s true,” Paul said. “I used to teach ancient history.”

Poseidon’s eyes twinkled. “That’s me. Ancient history.

The throne rumbled. A wave of gale-force anger slammed into me.
WHO DARES-
The voice stopped abruptly, The anger retreated, which was a good thing, because just those two words had almost blasted my mind to shreds.
Percy. My fathers voice was still angry but more controlled. What-exactly-are you doing on my throne?
"I'm sorry, Father," I said. "I needed to get your attention."
This was a very dangerous thing to do. Even for you. If I hadn't looked before I blasted, you would now be a puddle of seawater.