𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 - jason grace

20. MAIA MAKES HER CHOICE

EVERYTHING WENT QUIET AT Bacchus' presence. The machines ground to a halt. The wild animals stopped growling.

The two leopards paced over—still licking their lips from Piper's pot roast—and butted their heads affectionately against the god's legs. The god scratched their ears.

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

The giant made a squeaking sound. "This—this is impossible. D-D—"

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

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

"Hmm." Bacchus sounded unimpressed. He strolled through the ruined props, platforms, and special effects.

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

"STYLE?" The giant's face flushed. "I have mountains of style. I define style. I—I—"

"My brother oozes style," Otis suggested.

"Thank you!" Ephialtes cried.

Bacchus stepped forward, and the giants stumbled back. "Have you two gotten shorter?" asked the god.

"Oh, that's low," Ephialtes growled. "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."

He sneered at Percy.

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

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

"Carry on?" Maia's eyebrows furrowed.

Percy stared at him. "Didn't you come here to help?"

Bacchus shrugged. "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," Percy muttered.

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

"What?"

"Never mind," Bacchus said. "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."

"We speared one," Percy said. "Dropped the roof on the other. What do you consider impressive?"

"Ah, a good question..." Bacchus tapped his thyrsus. Then he smiled. "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 dissolved into purple mist. Piper and Nico disappeared.

"Pipes!" Jason yelled. "Bacchus, where did you—?"

The entire floor rumbled and began to rise. The ceiling opened in a series of panels. Sunlight poured in. The hypogeum ascended through a forest of weathered stone columns, into the middle of a ruined coliseum.

Suddenly, Maia realized where they were. It was the Colosseum. The bleachers repaired themselves until they were gleaming white. A giant red-and-gold canopy extended overhead to provide shade from the afternoon sun. The emperor's box was draped with silk, flanked by banners and golden eagles. The roar of applause came from thousands of shimmering purple ghosts, the Lares of Rome brought back for an encore performance.