We Only Came Close To Dying Six Or Seven Times, Which I Thought Was Pretty Good. Once, I Lost My Grip And Found Myself Dangling By One Hand From A Ledge Fifty Feet Above The Rocky Surf. But I Found Another Handhold And Kept Climbing. A Minute Later Annabeth Hit A Slippery Patch Of Moss And Her Foot Slipped. Fortunately, She Found Something Else To Put It Against. Unfortunately, That Something Was My Face. "sorry," She Murrmured. "s'okay," I Grunted, Though I'd Never Really Wanted To Know What Annabeth's Sneaker Tasted Like.

-Rick Riordan

Please Wait....
Translating....

We Only Came Close To Dying Six

Rick Riordan

We Only Came Close To Dying Six Or Seven Times, Which I Thought Was Pretty Good. Once, I Lost My Grip And Found Myself Dangling By One Hand From A Ledge Fifty Feet Above The Rocky Surf. But I Found Another Handhold And Kept Climbing. A Minute Later Annabeth Hit A Slippery Patch Of Moss And Her Foot Slipped. Fortunately, She Found Something Else To Put It Against. Unfortunately, That Something Was My Face. "sorry," She Murrmured. "s'okay," I Grunted, Though I'd Never Really Wanted To Know What Annabeth's Sneaker Tasted Like.

Topic

Sorry

Sneakers

Feet

Then There Was Nico Di Angelo. Dang, That Kid Gave Leo The Freaky-deakies. He Sat Back In His Leather Aviator Jacket, His Black T-shirt And Jeans, That Wicked Silver Skull Ring On His Finger, And The Stygian Sword At His Side. His Tufts Of Black Hair Struck Up In Curls Like Baby Bat Wings. His Eyes Were Sad And Kind Of Empty, As If He’d Stared Into The Depths Of Tartarus—which He Had.

Baby

Kids

Eye