Thalia blushed. "Hi, Lord Apollo."

Zeus's girl, yes? Makes you my half sister. Used to be a tree, didn't you? Glad you're back. I hate it when pretty girls turn into trees. Man, I remember one time—

I looked at Thalia. "You're afraid of heights."

Now that we were safely down the mountain, her eyes had their usual angry look. "Don't be stupid."

That explains why you freaked out on Apollo's bus. Why you didn't want to talk about it."

She took a deep breath. Then she brushed the pine needles out of her hair. "If you tell anyone, I swear—"

No, no," I said. "That's cool. It's just… the daughter of Zeus, the Lord of the Sky, afraid of heights?

There!" Apollo pointed. "Long Island, dead ahead. Let's slow down, dear. 'Dead' is only an expression.

Wait just a minute," Ares growled. He pointed at Thalia and me. "These two are dangerous. It'd be much safer, while we've got them here—"
"Ares," Poseidon interrupted, "they are worthy heroes. We will not blast my son to bits."
"Nor my daughter," Zeus grumbled. "She has done well.

Does Zeus have a perfect tan? Can he play the ukulele? I think not!

I survive all those battles," she growled, "and I get defeated by a stupid chunk of rock!