Daughter of Wine

Percy

I'm standing side by side with Jason. The giants are healing and getting stronger. I am not. Piper is still on the floor, unable to get up, and Nico is barely conscious. 

Ephialtes smiles apologetically. "Tired, Percy Jackson? As I said, you cannot kill us. So I guess we're at an impasse. Oh, wait... no we're not! Because we can kill you!"

"That," Otis grumbles, picking up his fallen spear, "is the first sensible thing you've said all day, brother."

The giants point their weapons, ready to turn Jason and I into a demigod kabob. 

"We won't give up." Jason growls. "We'll cut you into pieces like Jupiter did to Saturn."

"That's right," I agree. "You're both dead. I don't care if we have a god on our side or not."

"Well, that's a shame." I hear a new voice.

To my right, another platform lowers from the ceiling. Leaning casually on pinecone-topped staffs are a man in a purple camp shirt, khaki shorts, and sandals with white socks. Beside him is Calli, coming to the rescue yet again, looking terrifying and confident. A purple fire flickers in their eyes.

The god looks to me. "I'd hate to think I made a special trip for nothing."

"Someone order a god?" Calli asks, looking quite pleased with herself. She examines the room quickly, strategically, getting an idea of the situation she's just gotten herself in. I get the feeling she's not too sure what's going on. Her eyes widen at the sight of the giants, but she doesn't break character. 

I've never been happy to see Mr. D before. And I've definitely never thought of him or Calli as a calming influence, but suddenly everything goes quiet. The machines grind to a halt. The wild animals stop growling. 

The two leopards pace over, still licking their lips from Piper's pot roast." Calli takes a cautious step back, but the leopards but their heads affectionately against her and the god's legs. Mr. D scratches their ears. 

"Really, Ephialtes," He chides. "Killing demigods is one thing. But using leopards for your spectacle? That's over the line."

The giant makes a squeaking sound. "This is impossible. D-D-"

"It's Bacchus, actually, my old friend." Says the god. "And of course it's possible. Someone told me there was a party going on."

He looks the same as he had in Kansas, but I still can't get over the differences between Bacchus and Mr. D. Standing there with Calli, they make pinecones on a stick look intimidating. 

Ephialtes's spear quivers. "You-you gods are doomed! Be gone, in the name of Gaea!"

"Hmm." Bacchus sounds unimpressed. He strolls through the ruined props, platforms, and special effects. 

Calli casually yet hurriedly makes her way over to Jason and I. 

"You guys good?" She whispers. 

"Dude, nice job." Jason tells her.

"Don't 'nice job' me yet. I'm not sure if he's going to be helpful or not." She glances nervously at Bacchus. 

"Tacky." He waves his hand at a painted wooden gladiator, then turns to a machine that looks like an oversized rolling pin studded with knives. "Cheap. Boring. And this..." He inspects the rocket-launching contraption, which is still smoking. "Tacky, cheap, and boring. Honestly, Ephialtes. You still have no sense of style." 

"STYLE?" The giant's face flushes. "I have mountains of style. I define style. I-I-"

"My brother oozes style." Otis suggests. 

"Thank you!" Ephialtes cries. 

Bacchus steps forward, and the giants stumble back. "Have you two gotten shorter?" He asks the giants. 

"Oh, that's low." Ephialtes growls. "I'm quite tall enough to destroy you, Bacchus! You gods always hiding behind your mortal heroes, trusting the fate of Olympus to the likes of these. And now, you've brought me one of your tasty children!"

Jason hefts his sword. "Lord Bacchus, are we going to kill these giants or what?"

"Well, I certainly hope so," Bacchus says. "Please, carry on." 

I stare at him. "Didn't you come here to help?"

Bacchus shrugs. "Oh, I appreciated the sacrifice at sea. A whole ship full of Diet Coke. Very nice. Although I would've preferred Diet Pepsi."

"And six million in gold and jewels." Calli mutters. 

"Yes," Bacchus agrees. "although with demigod parties of five or more the gratuity is included, so that wasn't necessary."

"What?"

"Never mind." Bacchus waves her off. "At any rate, you got my attention. I'm here. Now I need to see if you're worthy of my help. Go ahead. Battle. If I'm impressed, I'll jump in for the grand finale."

"He wants dazzle." Calli informs us through gritted teeth. 

"We speared one." I point out. "Dropped the roof on the other. What do you consider impressive?"

"Ah, good question..." Bacchus taps his thyrsus. Then he smiles in a way that makes me think, Uh-oh. "Perhaps you need inspiration! The stage hasn't been properly set. You call this a spectacle, Ephialtes? Let me show you how it's done." 

The god dissolves into purple mist. Piper and Nico disappear. 

"Pipes!" Jason yells. "Bacchus, where did you-?"

The entire floor rumbles and begins to rise. The ceiling opens in a series of panels. Sunlight pours in. The air shimmers like a mirage, and I hear the roar of a crowd above me. 

The hypogeum ascends through a forest of weathered stone columns, into the middle of a ruined coliseum.

My heart does a somersault. 

"Um... is this...?"

"The colosseum." Calli says through gritted teeth, clearly annoyed. "Yeah."

The giants' special effects machines have gone into overtime, laying planks across ruined support beams so the arena has a proper floor again. The bleachers repair themselves until they're gleaming white. A giant red-and-gold canopy extends overhead to provide us shade from the afternoon sun. The emperor's box is draped with silk, flanked by banners and golden eagles. The roar of applause comes from thousands of shimmering purple ghosts, the Lares of Rome brought back for an encore performance.

Vents open in the floor and spray sand across the arena. Huge props spring up. Garage sized mountains of plaster, stone columns, and for some reason, life sized plastic barnyard animals. A small lake appears to one side. Ditches crisscross the arena floor in case anyone is in the mood for trench warfare. Jason, Calli, and I stand together, facing the twin giants. 

"Percy, I know you hate Dionysus, but I definitely prefer him to Bacchus." Calli tells me pointedly. 

"This is a proper show!" booms the voice of Bacchus. He sits in the emperor's box wearing purple robes and golden laurels. At his left sit Nico and Piper, her shoulder being tended by a nymph in a nurse's uniform. At Bacchus's right crouches a satyr, offering up Doritos and grapes. The god raises a can od Diet Pepsi and the crowd goes respectfully quiet. 

Calli glares up at him. "You're just going to sit there?"

"Your daughter is right!" Ephialtes bellows. "Fight us yourself, coward! Um, without the demigods."

Bacchus smiles lazily. "Juno says she's assembled a worthy crew of demigods. Show me. Entertain me, heroes of Olympus. Give me a reason to do more. Being a god has its privileges. Daughter dear, show me what the other gods see in you."

He pops his soda can top, and the crowd cheers.