The Last Olympian

"Your powers drain you too much," I noted.
He nodded sleepily. "With great power . . . comes great need to take a nap. Wake me up later."

Because Hope survives best at the hearth,” I said. “Guard it for me, and I won’t be tempted to give up again.”

Hestia shook her head. “I am here because when all else fails, when all the other mighty gods have gone off to war, I am all that’s left. Home. Hearth. I am the last Olympian. You must remember me when you face your final decision.”

The world was collapsing, and the only thing that really mattered to me was that she was alive.

“Don’t I get a kiss for luck? It’s kind of a tradition, right?”

“So you owe me,” she said weakly. “What else is new?”

She removed her hand, but I kept holding it.

“The small of my back.”

“You would’ve done the same for me.”

“You’re cute when you’re worried,” she muttered. “Your eyebrows get all scrunched together.”