An Offer You Can Refuse

Chapter 4: An offer you can refuse

I thank Megapede for the betaing!

AN OFFER YOU CAN REFUSE

01 September 1999

The first thing I felt was the unsufferable squawking of the seagulls. It echoed in my head, turning the uncomfortable sharpness of simply being aware of a painful ringing.

Fucking seagulls.

Beyond my closed eyelids, I felt the unforgiving light of an uncaring sun. I kept my eyes scrunched close, trying to postpone the inevitable.

In a sudden moment of clear thinking, I dragged my hand...

Sand? Why there's sand under my fingers?

...I dragged my hand over my chest, fumbling blindly until I found my sunglasses, resting on the hem of my shirt.

I spent the following minute placing them on my face. After that, consciously choosing to ignore my killer headache, I dusted off the sand from my hand before massaging the hate for being alive out of my still closed eyes.

In the meantime, under the irregular brain killing squawks of the hated birds, I recognized the regular crashing of the waves. Sea?

Reluctantly, I opened my eyes a fraction, gritting my teeth when the light proved itself far too harsh.

I worked on opening my eyes a while, and when I succeded, I was met with the sight of an almost cloudless sky, a single, grey nimbus sitting still over me.

Unfortunately, it wasn't shielding me from the sun, which was cheerfully slamming into my fucking face.

With a groan, I forced myself into a seated position, disgusted by the taste in my mouth, and I looked confused at my own feet: I had only a single shoe left, my other bare feet had been drawn on with a permanent marker. I tilted my head, squinting my eyes: I had no idea as to what the fuck the drawing meant.

I moved my head, slowly taking in my surroundings.

I suddenly remembered I was a demigod in a magic half-mythological camp.

Uh, strange the shit you can forget while drunk. I was honestly surprised I had forgotten.

Focusing on understanding what I was seeing, I realized that the crumpled form on my left leg was Thalia, a permanent marker in her hand. Narrowing my eyes and postponing any plots of revenge, I idly scratched my chest, only for my fingers to entangle themselves with something.

I looked down, remembering that the previous evening everybody got their leather necklaces, I looked at the bead for my first summer, the design was pitch black, with a pure white lightning bolt shimmering in the centre, Thalia joining the camp had somehow overshadowed every other event. For some reason, there was a wine cork right beside the black bead.

There were a lot of completely knocked out demigods on the beach. I couldn't be bothered to count, but there were... at least more than twenty. Fucking hell, my head.

I tried to remember what exactly happened the previous night, only getting confusing, blurry flashes of memories bleeding one into another.

I pocketed Thalia's marker and held her while I slid my leg from beneath her head. I then somewhat managed to rise and stumble towards the sea. The beach was deceptively big, I had to walk for a couple of hundred meters before reaching it. And when the waves reached my feet, I noticed the unmistakable form of Dionysus at my side.

"Few have the balls to call upon me during a party of these dimensions." He spoke.

I grunted, it was too early to deal with a grumpy god. I reluctantly took off my sunglasses and washed my face with the following wave, immediately feeling a lot better. Once I had recovered a bit, I looked at the god: his usually red-rimmed eyes were bright, his purple irises shining madly in the morning sun.

"You don't look like an alcoholic in withdrawal." I accused him.

Dionysus simply raised an eyebrow, but I could see a grin threatening to break his bored facade. Then my eyes roamed over the beach, seeing that all the demigods who participated in the previous night's festivities were still out cold. I frowned, linking the dots.

Then I snorted: "You're welcome." Turns out that fifty demigods throwing a big-ass, alcohol-filled party gave quite the bolt to Dionysus.

"There are several rules regarding alcoholic beverages at the camp." A voice said.

I turned to see that Chiron was looking at me with a blank expression. I contained a shiver when the cold seawater licked my feet. It did its job of keeping me awake. I frowned: "For being an immortal that sends 12 years old on deadly quests, you're surprisingly uptight, has anyone ever told you so?"

"I did, for a matter of fact." Dionysus butted in.

"And you seem to believe this," I gestured vaguely to the still KO demigods "Is somehow my fault."

At their unimpressed stares (even if I believe Dionysus was enjoying it) "All the stuff came from cabin 1, if you need to toss someone out of the camp, it's Thalia."

The almost cloudless sky rumbled ominously. I waved mockingly at the clouds: "Truth is often uncomfortable."

Then I turned again towards the two immortals: "Good luck in tossing her out."

The following wave reached my calves, drenching completely my only remaining sock. Chiron dug into the wet sand with his hoof a couple of times before turning back and returning to the camp proper: "Mr. D is in charge of the Half-Blood camp, as such he is the one to dispense discipline."

Once he was gone, the short, plump and honestly baffling god spoke: "You seem to think I need proof to toss you out. Or that I need a reason to turn you into a dolphin. I don't."

He was unreadable, however, I highly doubted that his words would ever become something else than a vague threat: the camp existed mostly to 'train heroes' but they were to be kept out of Olympus politics. Otherwise, with every rivalry, the camp would be at war with itself, and gods couldn't just kill or do whatever to children of other gods. Manipulate demigods, sure, plan their demise, why not, but directly acting? Smoke and mirrors to freak out impressionable kids.

I shrugged: "The way I see it, either Zeus" the sky rumbled, its ruler not appreciating being called with his name, " calls you back because he thinks you're a bad influence, effectively cutting short your punishment, or he praises you because we strengthened our bonds of friendship and whatnot through a party, which falls under your domain."

The god snorted and leaned forward, his finger tapping the cork on my new necklace, doing something I would try to understand later. "And in any case, I sacrificed a good litre of tequila in your name, so for you, it's a win-win situation." I added.

"That's why I arranged for the younger kids to be busy in the forest." he grinned.

I grimaced at the thought of being awakened by an outraged 7 years old Annabeth. And for the first time, I bowed a little bit. That was something I could respect. "My sons could learn something from this..." Dionysus muttered.

"Why am I the only one awake?" I frowned, the other demigods weren't even stirring.

"Summoning me can have side effects when I grant my blessing on unprepared mortals." the god of ritual madness and wine stated.

I looked at him with a confused expression: "You speak like I am not one."

Dionysus rose an eyebrow 'You're awake, aren't you?' was the clear message.

Oh, no, that shit isn't going to fly. Acting uncharacteristically rashly, I fumbled, reaching into my back pocket and taking out a little switchblade. With a contained grimace, I nicked my left palm, letting the red, human, blood fill my cupped hand. I scrunched my nose, I had cut a bit too deeply.

"I am offended that you believed me a god." and I was, James had made me spit blood enough times during training, but I wanted to nip whatever strange idea Dionysus had in the bud.

I flicked my hand on the incoming wave, ridding myself from the pooled blood. "I didn't say you were a god, I implied you were something different from the common demigod." Dionysus clarified, his eyes following the drops of blood falling in the water.

Then, out of the blue, I felt something. Burning right below my stomach. Churning. Heavy. Wet? I fell on my knees, gasping for breath, my hands plunged in the sand under the seawater, the cut on my palm forgotten.

"One should be careful when offering blood to old Barnacle's beard. Even if in your case it seems to have done some good." The voice of the wine god was drowned by the crushing sound of the waves.

Only, the waves were in my head, echoing my heartbeat. I focused on the crushing feeling, I felt like I was being squashed from the inside. I breathed as slowly as I could, reaching inwards, trying to feel for what was wrong in the same way I tried to feel for magic outside.

The origin of it all... I went blindly into myself until I could feel a warm-cold-undefined centre of something. A heat-power-gravity-something that started flowing like warm-cool water through my veins. It didn't hurt, it wasn't searing hot, it was just there. Like finding again a friend I had forgotten about, and yet different, like finding a new sense I never had before. In any case, I felt somewhat heavier. No, scratch that, tougher... something... There were no words that could properly describe it.

I looked angrily at the ocean before rising from my position, the god of wine had been staring unashamedly at me, as I made for some interesting pet, with the same attention one could dedicate to look at a fly grating its legs one against the other.

"I'm not his son, am I?" I whispered, and the sky thundered its outrage.

I whipped my head towards the clouds: "Oh, shut up! Thalia is your daughter and we're the same age!" I couldn't be bothered to deal with the Head Hypocrite at that moment.

"No, or we would have noticed it, believe me." Dionysus rolled his eyes "You're likely Barnacle's beard's nephew, the son of one of his bastards, no doubt. Offering your blood likely gave him the chance to recognize it."

"So my mother is a goddess, well that narrows it." I distractedly pointed out. I was busy watching my hands, in particular, the deep cut in my palm, that disappeared only to be replaced by a scar.

"What does this make me?" I wondered.

"Why would you think this changes you?" The diminutive god asked, genuinely not understanding what my point was.

"I'm 3/4 god, 1/4 human." I explained, "It is kind of a big deal for me."

Then I frowned: "It doesn't even make sense why I cut myself to prove you that I was human, I knew my blood was red."

Dionysus snorted: "Then you can recognize the hand of the Fates when it punches you. Good, it means I have chosen well."

"Chosen what?" I was suddenly very annoyed with the implications of his words.

He pointed at my neck, more exactly, to the cork added to my necklace that he had touched before. I could see a fucking thyrsus on it. Even if it was a cork barely a single inch tall, I could recognize every detail. It was a straight branch of giant fennel covered with ivy vines and leaves, topped with a pine cone and by a bunch of vine-leaves and grapes or ivy-leaves and berries.

I recalled quickly whatever I could remember about it: the thyrsus, associated with Dionysus and his followers, the Satyrs and Maenads, was a symbol of prosperity, fertility, hedonism, and pleasure. "I'm some kind of fucking priest now, fan-fuckin-tastic." I groaned "Is this why you are being so forthcoming with me now? And not calling me Igor?"

"You called my name during the last night festivities. I gave my blessing." Dionysus smiled sharply, making me acutely aware that he wasn't human.

I frowned: "I don't remember calling upon anyone. And was this the only party that attracted your attention? Besides, it was a one-time thing, shouldn't I be able to refuse whatever this is meant to be?"

The diminutive god chuckled: "It was the only hyped-up party composed only by demigods." he then tilted his head, studying my expression: "Are you even aware of what it means to carry that symbol when it is given from me?"

I shrugged: "No, but I dislike being a slave of whatever kind and..."

"...and you won't be." He interrupted me. "My mark will simply enhance what you feel while in a... how do the young say it these days?... Oh yes, a big-ass party."

I crossed my arms, my fingers clenching around the cork: "I don't want to forget the parties I attend to. What would be the point?"

Dionysus snorted: "Then drink less, it was not I to turn your brain into mush, boy."

There was some kind of catch, I was sure: "What does it mean for me? And what do you gain from it?"

"I've never been one to make plans." He sighed contently, the breeze ruffling his curls, which were so dark that they had a purple shine to them. "Wearing that cork means very little to you, when you try to convince others to participate in big-ass parties you'll have my blessing to succeed, and I'll get a spark of that energy, nothing that you'll notice or need."

This sounds more and more like the Wabbajack from Skyrim... I realized.

"So, it will make better whatever party I land myself into? No side effects, no strings attached?" I raised an eyebrow, it was such a ...bizarre... yes that was the word, bizarre power to have.

"None" he cheerfully answered.

I still wasn't sold: "What if I don't wish to indulge in the pleasures of the flesh? Will you make a group of women believe I'm a feral beast and have them rip me apart?"

The god threw back his head and laughed, it was savage, cruel, uncaring: "As amusing as it sounds, I wouldn't, that is ancient history. I acted that way only because a mortal had the sheer gall to forbid someone to worship me. I don't take choices away from others, I free them. It's one of the reasons I am an outsider in Olympus, the others don't appreciate my dislike for plans of whatever kind."

"Does this have anything to do with Fate and some kind of lame Prophecy?" I asked tiredly.

The god smiled.

"What if I choose to never have fun again? Just to spite you?" I tried.

He shrugged: "Then you're free to do so, the mark will naturally fade with time. I don't particularly care one way or another. I just felt it would be interesting."

"Is it tiring? Explaining shit?" it was exasperating on my end.

"As a god, it's in my nature to be mysterious and to speak in mumbo jumbo. And given the peculiar characteristics of my domain, it goes double for me."

"I'm guessing this chat is a one time deal?"

"I don't lie to those who wear my mark, and more in general, lies are against my nature, they're a product of the more controlling tiers of civilization." he, apparently honestly, answered.

"I don't know you well enough to blindly walk around with your mark hanging from my neck" It made me nervous, it sounded cool, but I only had his word to confirm it.

"Shall I introduce myself then?" he sardonically asked, and for a second I imagined him performing a musical like the Genie in Aladdin. I distractedly wondered if I was already going insane.

"My mother was the mortal Semele, daughter of the founder of Thebes. Zeus's jealous wife, Hera, wanted to know the identity of the child's father. She disguised herself as Semele's old nurse and went to see her. When my mother told her that Zeus was the father, Hera challenged her to prove her claim by having Zeus appear in all his glory. Semele did so. However, the power of the King of the Gods was too much for a human to bear. Semele was turned into ashes." I was surprised to hear an actual tone of... not sadness, but maybe regret?

"Before my mother died, Zeus pulled me out of her womb. Sewing me into his tight until I was born, only to be left with my mother's sister Ino, who disguised me as a girl to protect me from Hera. As punishment for helping me, Hera drove Ino and her husband insane." I grimaced a bit, I hadn't known that part of the story.

"Yes, your little friend had it a lot easier." He nodded in Thalia's direction.

The god scoffed, before shaking his head: "Hera also drove me insane. Thereafter, I wandered the world accompanied by my teacher, Silenus, bands of satyrs, and my women followers."

"The maenads." I added, "The ones who enjoyed raw meat." I scrunched my nose, that kind of savagery wasn't part of my repertory.

The god nodded: "I always preferred women." he stage-whispered.

"When I reached Egypt, I introduced the cultivation of grapes and the art of winemaking. When I went to Libya, I established an oracle in the desert. I also journeyed to India, conquering all who opposed me. I brought laws, cities, and wine to the country. On my way back to Greece, I met my grandmother, the earth goddess Cybele. She cured me of the madness Hera inflicted me with, the same madness that destroyed my mother's sister, Ino, and her husband. Two mortals that dared protect their family against the queen of the gods." He stared at the waves for a while, and I was unsure as to what to do. Staying still for a couple of years probably would be like the blink of an eye for a god.

Just when I was about to speak, he continued his story: "My grandmother taught me the mysteries of life and resurrection, and after a while, I ended up ascending to my seat in Olympus."

He stopped staring at the ocean and turned towards me, his eyes shining of an eldritch purple fire: "I am both the symbol of creative forces, the lifeblood of nature, and the death that comes after the excess, the liberation of instincts buried too deep to be faced. I was the spark in the heart of the French revolution and the excess of the government of Terror."

He took a step towards me: "Remember this, Icarus. Of all the Olympians, I'm the only one who got to know mortality on his skin. I don't lie. I don't pretend that the council of the gods is anything more than over-glorified wanking. And I swear by the Styx that everything I told you today is pure, unadulterated truth."

A thunder boomed, rocking the sky.

And he was gone, a faint smell of red wine left behind.

Only then, my headache returned with a vengeance. I watched the unconscious form of Thalia. Zeus swore on the Styx to not sire children again, and look at her...

ANNABETH

12 September 1999

There was something wrong, I knew it. I trailed my fingers over the single, black bead on my leather necklace eyeing suspiciously the older campers.

I still don't think Thalia's arrival is so special. I mean, I arrived with her and I'm a daughter of Athena. Luke is the son of Hermes, and in a few months, he proved himself to be the most talented swordsman in the last 300 years... On the 31st of august something happened, I was sure of it. I stalked in the common courtyard, being careful to keep myself out of sight from his position.

He was sitting near the smouldering hearth, apparently talking to himself. And just when I was about to walk towards him and pretend some answers, I spotted a couple of older demigods stopping to talk with the sunglassed freak with mismatched eyes.

I moved closer, one of my older brothers had explained to me that every good plan was based on exact info on the problem that was to be faced. It's so obvious. I refrained from scoffing out loud, it would have given my position away.

Just when I was about to be in range, the two older campers walked away, after bowing lightly to him! That made no sense whatsoever. Since their arrival months before, Thalia had been treated with some wariness, Luke with rightly evergrowing respect for his abilities, and in less than a day, the freak had obtained the same, if not better, status.

And it irritated me greatly that when I had asked why to Luke or Thalia, they were so oblivious about it. But there was some kind of game afoot, I just knew it. When I had questioned one of the older couples they sniggered, sniggered! Like there was something funny about it.

A certain David from the Haephestus cabin had dared to laugh in my face.

I stomped towards him angrily, I was going to leave with my answers, or I would smash his unsufferable sunglasses in.

He tilted his head towards me when I stopped less than half a meter from him: "That's it! What's going on?"

"Whatever do you mean, Annabeth?" he asked, genuinely confused. Or at least pretending to be. I narrowed my eyes threateningly.

"Something happened at the end of the summer and everyone knows it and is not telling me!" I shouted, putting him in his place. He hummed, rightly considering that whatever secret he tried to keep had just been blown. I smirked in the safe confines of my head, I got him.

"What makes you think something happened?" He dared ask.

"Because everyone older than eleven is wearing a tin cap of beer on his necklace beside the bead of this year." I pointed out, and it was obvious to see.

He hummed again: "Only tin caps?"

I frowned, trying to recall: "Well, no, some had shards from glass bottles..."

"Maybe there's a pattern?" He seriously asked.

"Do not try to distract me with some idiocy, Icarus." I hissed.

He hunched over me: "Do you see any others with a cork?" he whispered.

I narrowed my eyes, looking suspiciously at it: "I'm the only one with it because I have to find out what the others necklaces mean..."

"What about all the people suddenly talking to you?" I asked. If he was trying to trick me...

He shrugged: "Sometimes they drop clues, but honestly?"

He waited for me to nod before going on: "They just poke fun at me most of the time..." he sounded a bit sad.

But he suddenly brightened, I thought, it was hard to tell with those sunglasses of his hiding his eyes: "You're pretty smart, aren't you?"

Well, I wouldn't say that... Oh well, I know I am. "I'm a daughter of Athena."

"Then can help me figure this out? Otherwise, it will go on and on forever!" He sounded almost desperate, and it wasn't like I didn't want to know...

Then I remembered when he threatened Luke with a couple of kitchen knives.

I took a step back, smiling impishly: "Well, I'd like to, really... just, it would be unfair, wouldn't it? It's something that you need to figure out on your own..."

And before my curiosity pushed me into doing something nice for him, I turned and ran away, briefly glancing over my shoulder ready to enjoy the dismay on his face only to see that he had gone back to speaking to himself. "He's all kinds of bat-shit crazy..." I muttered before slapping my hands on my mouth and looking around. Grover was nowhere in sight. I sighed in relief, it wouldn't do to curse with that childish goat-kid around after all.