Daughter of Wine

Piper

Blackjack lands. Both horses paw the asphalt. Neither looks pleased to have stopped so suddenly, just when they've found their stride. 

Blackjack whinnies. 

"You're right." Percy says. "No sign of the wine dude." 

"I beg your pardon?" Says a voice from the fields. 

Tempest turns so quickly, I almost fall off. 

The wheat parts, and the man from my vision steps into view. He wears a wide-brimmed hat wreathed in grapevines, a purple short-sleeved shirt, khaki shorts, and Birkenstocks with white socks. He looks maybe thirty, with a slight potbelly, like a frat boy who hasn't yet realized college is over. He looks nothing like Calli.

"Did someone just call me the wine dude?" He asks in a lazy drawl. "It's Bacchus, please. Or Mr. Bacchus. Or Lord Bacchus. Or, sometimes, Oh-My-Gods-Please-Don't-Kill-Me, Lord Bacchus."

Percy urges Blackjack forwards, though the pegasus doesn't seem happy about it. 

"You look different." Percy tells the god. "Skinnier. Your hair is longer. And your shirt isn't so loud." 

The wine god squints up at him. "What in blazes are you talking about? Who are you, and where is Ceres?"

"Uh... what series?"

"I think he meant Ceres," Jason says. "The goddess of agriculture. You'd call her Demeter." He nods respectfully to the god. "Lord Bacchus, do you remember me? I helped you with that missing leopard in Sonoma." 

Bacchus scratches his stubbly chin. "Ah, yes. John Green." 

"Jason Grace." 

"Whatever." the god says. "Did Ceres send you, then?"

"No, Lord Bacchus." Jason says. "Were you expecting to meet her here?"

The god snorts. "Well, I didn't come to Kansas to party, my boy. Ceres asked me here for a council of war. What with Gaea rising, the crops are withering. Droughts are spreading. The karpoi are in revolt. Even my grapes aren't safe. Ceres wanted a united front in the plant war." 

"The plant war." Percy repeats. "You're going to arm all the little grapes with tiny assault rifles?"

The god narrows his eyes. "Have we met?"

"At Camp Half-Blood," Percy says. "I know you as Mr. D. Dionysus." 

"Agh!" Bacchus winces and presses his hands to his temples. For a moment, his image flickers. I see a different person. Fatter, dumpier, in a much louder, leopard-patterned shirt. I have just enough time to see his eyes, which look just like Calli's. Then Bacchus returns to being Bacchus. "Stop that!" He demands. "Stop thinking about me in Greek!"

Percy blinks. "Uh, but-"

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to stay focused? Splitting headaches all the time! I never know what I'm doing or where I'm going! Constantly grumpy!"

"That sounds pretty normal for you." Percy shrugs. 

The god's nostrils flare. One of the grape leaves on his hat bursts into flame. "If we know each other from the other camp, it's a wonder I haven't already turned you into a dolphin." His eyes begin to glow purple, just like Calli's do.

"It was discussed." Percy assures him. "I think you were just too lazy to do it." 

I've been watching with horrified fascination, the way I might watch a car wreck in progress. Now I realize Percy is not making things better, and Annabeth isn't around to rein him in. Annabeth would never forgive me if I bring Percy back transformed into a sea mammal.