Hazel started to tremble. At the base of the stairs, the cement stoop cracked under the man’s feet. A glittering stone popped up from the concrete like the earth had spit out a watermelon seed. The man looked at it, unsurprised. He bent down.
“Don’t!” Hazel cried. “It’s cursed!”
He picked up the stone—a perfectly formed emerald. “Yes, it is. But not to me. So beautiful…worth more than this building, I imagine.” He slipped the emerald in his pocket. “I’m sorry for your fate, child. I imagine you hate me.”

The Son of Neptune, Chapter VI