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“Oh good, you’re awake. Now we can panic together.”
Percy slowly opened his eyes, more confused than anything else as he noticed Thalia's presence in his cabin.
Where Thalia absolutely shouldn't have been. Especially saying something like that.
"What the Hades are you doing in my cabin?" Percy asked, glaring at his cousin.
"We're in trouble." Thalia said, not answering Percy's question, but waving a sort of purple card under his nose.
Percy automatically wrinkled his nose. "It looks like something Mr. D would use."
"It's from him, indeed," Thalia replied. Then, wasting no time, she pushed the card at Percy, so he could look at it.
With a most likely exaggerated sigh, Percy took it.
"Thalia, lieutenant of Artemis, you are invited to the Anthesteria celebrations. Mr. D." Percy read, squinting as he realized he could read the card with ease. If Mr. D cared about the small detail of having dyslexic kids, then that was serious. “Well, he went out of his way to invite you,” he finally concluded, handing the card back to Thalia.
“We have a problem,” Thalia repeated, once again ignoring Percy’s comment.
“No, you have a problem.” Percy corrected her. “I have a rule-breaker in my cabin.”
Thalia gave him a dry look before turning, slowly and conspicuously, to Percy’s bedside table.
Sighing mentally, Percy slowly turned to the bedside table, not surprised when he saw the same purple card lying on it.
“I don’t want to go to Mr. D’s stupid party,” Percy said. “What are Anthesterias, anyway?”
“They’re a celebration dedicated to Dionysus, divided into three days. The first is Pithoigia, when the jars of new wine are opened and libations are made in his honor.” Thalia began to explain, but Percy interrupted. “How much wine?”
Thalia glanced at him, probably annoyed by Percy’s interruption. “Enough.”
Percy narrowed his eyes. “That’s a terrible answer. ‘Enough’ is a very dangerous amount when talking about Dionysus, and it changes every time the subject is changed.”
“I’m not finished,” Thalia said, almost hissing, glaring irritably at Percy.
“That doesn’t reassure me.” Percy grumbled, still motioning for his cousin to continue.
“The second day is Choes, the day of the drinking contests.” Thalia continued, ignoring him. “Each participant has their own jug of wine. It’s also tied to the Basilinna.”
“To whom?” Percy asked, ignoring the warning look Thalia had given him when she saw Percy open his mouth.
Thalia's gaze shifted slightly, from irritation at Percy's constant interruptions to irritation at his lack of knowledge of Greek mythology. "Basilinna was the wife of the archon king of Athens, who held a special ritual role and was associated with Dionysus through a sacred marriage, the hieros gamos."
Percy was silent for a few seconds. "So on the second day, we have wine, a drinking contest, and a sacred marriage."
"Yes." Thalia nodded.
"And you still think it's a good idea to go there," Percy pointed out laconically.
"If we refused Mr. D's invitation, it would be an unforgivable offense," Thalia pointed out, annoyed.
"Mr. D would get over it." Percy shrugged.
Thalia rolled her eyes.
“And the third?” Percy asked, noticing that Thalia wasn't continuing her point-by-point explanation.
Thalia hesitated slightly. “The Chytroi.”
Percy sat up slightly straighter. “Why did you hesitate?”
Thalia snorted. “I didn't hesitate.”
“You hesitated.” Percy pointed at her.
“I didn't hesitate.”
“Yes, you did.”
“No, I didn't.”
“You did.”
“That's not true.”
“You're doing that thing you do when you know I'm about to have a bad day.” Percy continued, knowing that thing a little too well.
Thalia sighed. “They make grain offerings for the dead, associated with Hermes Chthonian.”
Percy stared at her. Then he looked at the note. Then back at Thalia. “The dead?”
Thalia sighed wearily. “Yes, Percy, the dead.”
“On the third day?” Percy checked, hoping he’d misunderstood. “After two days of wine, they decided it was a good idea to summon the dead?” Percy paused. “And let Mr. D be in charge of summoning the dead?”
“Yes.” Thalia nodded, deciding not to let Percy continue criticizing the Greek gods and their questionable organization.
Percy remained thoughtful. “So the official plan is: we drink, drink some more, and then wait for the dead to arrive.”
“That sounds worse.” Thalia exclaimed, throwing her arms out.
“Why, Thalia, is there a better way to say this?” Percy asked, raising an eyebrow.
Thalia crossed her arms, looking annoyed at Percy’s lack of consideration for the event. “The boundary between the world of the living and that of the dead was considered thinner at this time of year, making the entire ceremony much more important.”
Percy pointed to the card. “And you think that makes it better?”
Thalia deflated slightly. “Not really, but not going would greatly offend Mr. D.”
“Are we sure he didn’t invite us because he lost a bet or was forced to?” Percy checked. “It sounds like something Hermes would do. Or my father.” Percy added, horrified by the thought.
Thalia gave him a dry look, as if to say that even if it were an accident, a mistake, or a lost bet, the two of them would go.
“Good.” Percy stared at the purple invitation once more. “I want it on the record that I didn’t want to go, that this is a terrible idea, and that I am completely and unequivocally opposed to going.”
Thalia snorted. “Look, it’s a simple thing, huh?”
Percy nodded, smiling as if Thalia were a small, naive girl. “Oh, you’re right.” After a moment’s pause, just enough for Thalia to look at him in surprise, Percy added, “Which means it’s going to go horribly wrong.”
Thalia rolled her eyes. “Can you stop assuming the worst every time?”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Percy shot back.
***
“You know, I think if I’d known the dead could return on the third day, I would have avoided coming,” Percy said, as he and Thalia ran away from a group of dead people. “And this was supposed to happen?”
“I wasn’t supposed to come with you!” Thalia replied, shooting arrows at the dead. “No, it wasn’t supposed to happen, no, it doesn’t happen unless you’re here!”
“Sounds like someone else’s fault.” Percy shrugged. “Are you sure it’s my fault?” I remind you, I tried to tell Mr. D that I'd rather gouge my eyes out than come here.”
Thalia didn't answer, which meant Percy was right, as usual.
"Tell me at least that you have a plan," Thalia finally said, after they'd made a quick turn, narrowly avoiding whatever was being thrown at them.
Percy smiled. "I have the idea of a plan."
Thalia turned to look at him, as if judging by his expression whether Percy's idea was a good one.
It didn't make sense. Rachel and Grover had both told him that his expressions were the same whether he was leading an army, handing out roles, making pancakes, or attacking titans.
"How suicidal is that?" Thalia asked.
Percy shrugged. "Depends on how much you care about the definition of suicidal."
"Perseus," Thalia said, speaking clearly.
"Thalia." Percy repeated.
Thalia sighed. "Fine, we'll do your idea." After a moment's pause, Thalia added, "But this is the last time I'll let anyone talk me into attending one of Mr. D's parties!"
Percy's jaw dropped. "You were the one who decided to come here!"
Cousins.
Percy's only problem was his cousins.