Percico

Chapter Two

Otis had been maimed and dissolved in water. But Ephialtes had swiped his spear across Jason's chest. He immediately began bleeding.

"No!" Piper yelled. "Jason! JASON! EPHIALTES! YOU ABSO-"

Something said Nico that Piper and Jason were dating. Down in the battlefield, Jason was injured and Percy was weaponless.

There was no hope. Suddenly, a huge, huge, ship descended below Ephialtes.

From the lake, Otis yelled, trying to warn his brother, but his half-dissolved face could only manage: “Uh-umh-moooo!”

“Don’t worry, brother!” Ephialtes said, his eyes still fixed on the demigods. “I will make them suffer!”

The huge shops ballista lit up with green fire, greek fire.

“Actually,” Percy said. “Look behind you.”

He and Jason rolled away as Ephialtes turned and bellowed in disbelief.

There was a massive explosion. Ephialtes lay charred and groaning on the arena floor, the sand around him seared into a halo of glass by the heat of the Greek fire. Otis was floundering in the lake, trying to re-form, but from the arms down he looked like a puddle of burnt oatmeal. The huge ship had landed.

Percy staggered over to Jason and clapped him on the shoulder. The ghostly crowd gave them a standing ovation. From the ship, emerged a scrawny boy, Hazel and Frank grinning at his side. Nico couldn't believe his eyes! The seven? No... There was one missing. Annabeth! Nico found himself hoping that Percy and Annabeth had broken up. He immediately hated himself for that.

An extremely short satyr danced around the firing platform, pumping his fist in the air and yelling, “That’s what I’m talking about!”

Percy turned to the emperor’s box. “Well?” he yelled at Bacchus. “Was that entertaining enough for you, you wine-breathed little—”

“No need for that.” Suddenly the god was standing right next to him in the arena. He brushed Dorito dust off his purple robes. “I have decided you are worthy partners for this combat.”

“Partners?” Jason growled. “You did nothing!”

Bacchus walked to the edge of the lake. The water instantly drained, leaving an Otis-headed pile of mush. Bacchus picked his way to the bottom and looked up at the crowd. He raised his thyrsus.

The crowd jeered and hollered and pointed their thumbs down. Percy had never been sure whether that meant live or die. He’d heard it both ways.

Bacchus chose the more entertaining option. He smacked Otis’s head with his pinecone staff, and the giant pile of Otismeal disintegrated completely.

The crowd went wild. Bacchus climbed out of the lake and strutted over to Ephialtes, who was still lying spread-eagled, overcooked and smoking.

Again, Bacchus raised his thyrsus.

“DO IT!” the crowd roared.

“DON’T DO IT!” Ephialtes wailed.

Bacchus tapped the giant on the nose, and Ephialtes crumbled to ashes.

The ghosts cheered and threw spectral confetti as Bacchus strode around the stadium with his arms raised triumphantly, exulting in the worship. He grinned at the demigods. “That, my friends, is a show! And of course I did something. I killed two giants!”

As Percy’s friends disembarked from the ship, the crowd of ghosts shimmered and disappeared. Nico got up, along with Piper, and both of them struggled, and shoved their way towards the demigods.