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kenzloux 's review for:

The Tyrant's Tomb by Rick Riordan
4.0
adventurous emotional funny hopeful lighthearted reflective relaxing sad tense medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven: A mix
Strong character development: Yes
Loveable characters: Yes
Diverse cast of characters: Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus: Yes
This book had so much going off after we finally built up to the full main plot in this after book 1, 2 and 3. I love Apollo and how he has progressed as a mortal (demigod?) since the first book, and I love his relationship with Meg and Jason. My heart broke during the funeral/ceremony for Jason Grace, I was not expecting it to be that sad as I wasn't a huge fan of Jason during the Heroes of Olympus series. I cannot wait to read book 5 to find out how the series ends, and to see what happens to Lester (Apollo) and if he becomes a god again. 
Quotes 
  • “How do you tell a dream from a nightmare? If it involves a book burning , it's probably a nightmare.”
  • “If I'm going to burn, I might as well burn bright. This is for Jason.”
  • “Each person's grief has its own life span; it needs to follow its own path.”
  • “Goodbye, Apollo,' said the Sibyl's voice, clearer now. 'I forgive you. Not because you deserve it. Not for your sake at all. But because I will not go into oblivion carrying hate when I can carry love.”
  • “Hazel studied Reyna’s outfit with concern. “Your sword’s in the truck. Don’t you want to take a shield or something?” “Nah. I’ve got my cloak. It’ll turn aside most weapons.” Reyna brushed the collar of her sweater wrap. Instantly it unfurled into her usual purple cape. Frank’s smile faded. “Does my cloak do that?” “See you, guys!” Reyna climbed behind the wheel. “Wait, does my cloak deflect weapons?” Frank called after us. “Does mine turn into a sweater wrap?” As we pulled away, I could see Frank Zhang in the rearview mirror, intently studying the stitching of his cape.”
  • “Meg peered at me over the top of her glasses. “You’re the dumbest god ever”
  • “The only difference between a satyr and a faun,” I said, “is what we see in them. And what they see in themselves. Plant this tree somewhere special.” I looked up at the dryads. “Tend it and make it grow healthy and tall. This was Don the faun, a hero.”
  • Diana raised an eyebrow. “Well, I’m not the goddess of healing, but I’m still a goddess. I think I can take care of my little brother’s boo-boos.” “Little brother?” She smirked.”
  • “I hated how beautiful it was. Death shouldn’t be beautiful.”
  • “Now-" she pointed at the coffin - "somebody want to tell me who's in there?" I really didn't. Not after I'd seen how Hazel skewered her enemies. Still... I owed it to Jason. Hazel had been his friend. I steeled my nerves, opened my mouth to speak, and was beaten to the punchline by Hazel herself. "It's Jason," she said as if the information had been whispered in her ear. "Oh gods." She ran to the coffin. She fell to her knees and threw her arms across the lid. She let out a single devastated sob. Then she lowered her head and shivered in silence.”
  • “Once again, I had broken the First Law of Percy Jackson: Never say something is going to work out, because as soon as you do, it won’t.”