Chapter 13:

Some Plan, di Angelo

Despite being brothers, Will and Octavian had near nothing in common. Nico, from the view point of a catapulting merman who had a few unresolved feelings for the former, could see this quite clearly in how they reacted to him coming at them.

Will looked on the verge of a terrified, homicidal rampage. Octavian appeared torn between eagerness and slight concern.

He should be a lot concerned, Nico thought savagely, a snarl twisting his humanoid face into something feral and otherworldly. It took some directing, but his sword was making a promising target out of Octavian's stomach and Nico had never felt this level of bloodlust before, not even when the Titans had converged on Half-Blood City and wreaked havoc.

The plan the plan the plan the plan, di Angelo.

Octavian side-stepped the moment before Nico gutted him. Sword passing harmlessly through the Captain's coat, Nico had a few seconds to brace for impact with the ship's deck. His rage blinded him to the tearing of his skin against the wood, skidding across the deck until he connected with the side with a disturbing smack. The tips of his tail tingled unpleasantly.

"Nico!" Will's voice was working against him, becoming hoarser the more he yelled. "Get away– run!"

"Solace, I am half fish!" Nico snapped back.

Levering himself onto his scraped elbows, Nico called the shadows to him again. His skin was bubbling with fury and so the shadows were too, crawling to him with unnecessary peaks and dips and in pieces, like some horror story's detached hand.

His heartbeat was in his ears. His scales prickled with energy. His eyes vibrated in his head. Where his belly touched the wood was turning to a pool of void darkness. Around Nico, blackness reigned.

An abrupt chill, beginning under his chin, spread along his jaw and choked off his breathing. It felt slightly wet, and smelled like copper and steel.

Nico looked up. Octavian looked down. The tip of his sword moved to leave a faint pink line and a thin trail of Will's blood on Nico's skin.

"The Ghost King," Octavian said softly.

Nico glared at him.

"Nothing to say?" Octavian asked.

Nico bubbled something in mermish that, even to Will, sounded like nothing less than a carefully thought-out and lovingly put-together string of brutal, whipping swears.

Octavian jerked his sword, and Nico lifted his head a little higher to avoid the deadly tip digging any further into his neck. He wanted to leap up and snap Octavian in half. He should. He should also be scared.

"Does emotion enhance the potency of a mer-person's tears, Will?" Octavian demanded, never taking his eyes off Nico.

"How should I know?" Will retorted from where he was being crushed by the man Nico recognised as Octavian's lackey, Kahale.

"I just thought," Octavian mused, tilting Nico's head to the side curiously with his blade, "maybe you'd have found out, this one being in love with you and all."

Surprisingly, it was Nico who snarled, while Will's ears brightened. He stared at Octavian incredulously.

"Please," Octavian scoffed. "I'm not stupid."

"That's funny," Nico said, "because your face-"

Octavian repositioned his sword meaningfully. Nico smiled, and it was a dangerous, promising smile, that said something was coming to get Octavian.

"-suggests otherwise."

Octavian's expression flashed for a moment, his eyes narrowing and brows drawing together in a way that said he'd make Nico regret being born. Then, it cleared. Like sunshine, beaming out from behind a cloud. Nico wanted the cloud to come back – Octavian's sunshine meant something awful for the rest of them.

Meaningfully, Octavian's sword retreated, leaving Nico a moment to slump before his arms began shaking. A brief gesture to Kahale however, and Nico was straining to get higher, get up, dance on his fins, anything.

Kahale's arms moved easily, pulling Will Solace to his feet and baring his throat. Will struggled, growling intermittently and fruitlessly trying to wrench himself out of Kahale's hold, until Octavian put the sword to his neck before looking back to Nico, smiling. Will went still, eyes locked on Nico.

"Does emotion enhance the potency of mer-people's tears, Nico?" Octavian asked. "Will's life depends on your answer."

Nico felt like crying. His was furious, and sore, and running on so much pent-up adrenaline he might flip his fins or scream or explode. He hadn't considered anything like this happening, his emotions getting away from him this badly.

And then, Will. Depending on Nico's answer, he'd either die right there right then, or be doomed to a life of being Octavian's pin-cushion for Nico's benefit. They'd both have a miserable, eternal existence where every day Will would be gored like a pig and Nico would have to watch, have to cry, and have to heal him for the next day.

Theoretically.

"I…"

Nico looked at Will, who was watching him from the corner of his eye with a fiery intensity. But, not like the dead man he might end up being, who had his eyes on a lifeline and was desperate for it. Will was watching Nico like he would never see him again, and was trying to memorise his face. In that second, in that moment, Nico wanted one thing.

"I want legs."

Octavian blinked. Kahale blinked. Will blinked.

"What?"

"I want legs," Nico repeated. Rolling onto his back, head balanced so he could still see the three of them, Nico's peripheral scanned the rigging of the ship. "If I had legs, I would have already killed your crew, Octavian. I would have thrown them over the side – all at once, so it wasn't obvious." He was trying to keep his fury under wraps, channelling it into a hideous grin. "Then, I would have climbed the sails and waited for the best time to intervene. Maybe add a distraction in there, too. In the form of, oh, I don't know, a merman prince?"

Octavian's knee-jerk reaction to the revelation of Nico's plan was to bury his sword in Will's chest.