The Burning Maze

Remember what it's like to be human,

Pain is an interesting thing. You think you have reached your limit and you can’t possibly feel more tortured. Then you discover there is still another level of agony. And another level after that.

Power makes good people uneasy rather than joyful or boastful. That’s why good people so rarely rise to power.

The people who deserved to die took forever to do so. Those who deserved to live always went too soon.

It’s been my observation" I said, “that you humans are more than the sum of your history. You can choose how much of your ancestry to embrace. You can overcome the expectations of your family and your society. What you cannot do, and should never do, is try to be someone other than yourself–Piper McLean.

Jason took me by the shoulders—not out of anger, or in a clinging way, but as a brother. “Promise me one thing. Whatever happens, when you get back to Olympus, when you’re a god again, remember. Remember what it’s like to be human.” A few weeks ago, I would have scoffed. Why would I want to remember any of this? At best, if I were lucky enough to reclaim my divine throne, I would recall this wretched experience like a scary B-movie that had finally ended. I would walk out of the cinema into the sunlight, thinking Phew! Glad that’s over. Now, however, I had some inkling of what Jason meant. I had learned a lot about human frailty and human strength. I felt…different toward mortals, having been one of them. If nothing else, it would provide me with some excellent inspiration for new song lyrics!

Promise me one thing. Whatever happens, when you get back to Olympus, when you’re a god again, remember. Remember what it’s like to be human.

I would be Apollo. I would remember.

I'd tell you to say hello to Jason from me, but he'll be in Elysium. You . . . won't.

I wondered, not for the first time, why we Greek deities had never created a god of family therapy. We certainly could have used one. Or perhaps we had one before I was born, and she quit.

Unbelievable," I murmured. "After four thousand years, I am still discovering new things." "Like how dumb you are," Meg volunteered. "No." "So you already knew that?

Grover!" I yelled up. "You can drop me now, but don't worry. I have a - " Grover dropped me. Honestly, what sort of protector just drops you into a fire when you tell him it's okay to drop you into a fire?

Like me, he had decided that Piper McLean would not die tonight. For some reason, he had decided that I must live too. He yelled again, 'GO! Remember!' (...) While Jason's back was turned, Caligula wheeled about. He threw his spear, driving its point between Jason's shoulder blades. Piper screamed. Jason stiffened, his blue eyes wide in shock.

That little fire-flicker," she grumbled. "We search for months and he just shows up at camp?" "Yes," I agreed. "There is a waiting list of people who would like to hit him. We can fit you in sometime next fall.

Jason sighed miserably. “That’s supposed to be my job. I’m always the one who gets knocked in the head.

Satyrs aren't dryads, but we have roots, too. Camp Half Blood is mine.

The smallest seedlings, Demeter often told me, grow into century oaks.

It struck me just how young he was—no more than seventeen. Older than my mortal form, yes, but not by much. This young man had lost his mother. He had survived the harsh training of Lupa the wolf goddess. He’d grown up with the discipline of the Twelfth Legion at Camp Jupiter. He’d fought Titans and giants. He’d helped save the world at least twice. But by mortal standards, he was barely an adult. He wasn’t old enough to vote or drink.

No good news awaits I warned you right at the start Turn away, reader

To Melpomene, the Muse of Tragedy, I hope you're pleased with yourself

That’s nice. I like that. You’re sure you’re not the god of wisdom?” “I applied for the job,” I said, “but they gave it to someone else. Something about inventing olives.” I rolled my eyes.

He had accepted that death meant death, the way Piper McLean had accepted that Oklahoma meant Oklahoma.

The arrow buzzed, no doubt trying to access Wikipedia. It denies using the Internet. Perhaps, then, it’s just a coincidence the arrow is always more helpful when we are in an area with free Wi-Fi.

Die," I repeated. "Yeah." "Not disappear, not wouldn't come back, not suffer defeat." "Nope. Die. Or more accurately, three letters, starts with D." "Not dad then," I suggested. "Or dog.

I felt her story in every line: her struggle as the neglected child of a famous movie star; her mixed feelings about discovering she was a daughter of Aphrodite; most hurtful of all, her realization that the supposed love of her life, Jason Grace, was not someone she wanted to be with romantically.

Remember what it's like to be human.

No. I refuse to share this part of my story. It was the lowest, most humiliating, most awful week in my four-thousand plus years of life. Tragedy. Disaster. Heartbreak. I will not tell you about it. Why are you still here? Go away.

I had no idea how Annabeth Chase had figured out that the Daedalus command could be used on any automaton. Then again, she’d been able to redesign my palace on Mount Olympus with perfect acoustics and surround-sound speakers in the bathroom, so her cleverness shouldn’t have surprised me.