The Curse of the Ghost Captain

by L. Monster

Merchant Will Solace and his crew rescue a man at sea, seemingly the only survivor of a terrible shipwreck, but he never expected the man to be a pirate. Solangelo Pirates AU, in which Nico has magical ghostly powers, Percy is a fearsome pirate with dubious intentions and Will tries hard not to die.

6. Tests

The Curse of the Ghost Captain

CHAPTER 7

"TESTS"

After the storm had well passed, the blazing rays of the midday sun knew no mercy as they scorched the countryside, evaporating every last drop of dew on the vegetation.

A few miles off the Sardinian eastern coast, a small camp with canvas tents had been quickly erected. In the main tent, a broad-shouldered man with electric blue eyes sat on a richly embroidered carpet, surrounded by plush cushions and several plates with an assortment of untouched fruits, cheeses and cold cuts.

The man's eyes were fixed to the horizon, the blue of his irises sucking in some of the deeper tones of the sea. He ignored the food around him, toying instead with the emerald-encrusted hilt of a cutlass.

The sound of horses and men's voices suddenly reached his ears, but he did not avert his gaze from the sea that glittered under the hot rays of the sun. It would be a beautiful day to go out to sea, he thought almost longingly.

He recognized some of the voices, and more importantly, he recognized the urgency of their tone. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, three figures blocked the sea from his line of vision. His right-hand man, Ganymede, stood to the right, an unknown sailor to the left, and in the middle, the limp figure of a third man, who he remembered with well-earned displeasure.

"Captain," said Ganymede, his voice almost as displeased as he himself felt. "We've recovered Octavian, but he isn't well. He…"

Thunderbeard raised a hand and took his time getting to his feet, as his eyes scanned the limp figure barely held up by the men that flanked him.

He remembered Octavian for his arrogance, his eagerness to prove himself, his thirst for power – the figure before him held nothing of the traits that had once made Thunderbeard decide to trust him to infiltrate his son's crew. The Octavian before him was a mere shadow of his former self – pale as death and limp like an overcooked cabbage. His blonde hair was caked with dried blood, his clothes torn to tatters. These were all, of course, incidental. He had been tortured, beaten, then defeated in a fight, Thunderbeard could well understand as much. Nothing could, however, explain the putrid smell of burning flesh and vomit that emanated from him, nor the black smoke that kept coming from his downcast face.

"Set him down," he commanded, and the two men dropped Octavian unceremoniously on the sand, careful to avoid dropping him onto the lavish carpet.

"What happened to the rest?" Thunderbeard asked. "Did you finish them?"

Ganymede took a step back and bowed his head.

"There were no survivors at the farm, but the men gave… conflicting reports," he replied.

"Elaborate," Thunderbeard commanded.

Ganymede took a deep breath. "Most of the men stationed at the farm ran off, the few remaining were in shock. They mentioned ghosts."

"And… Di Angelo?"

"Badly wounded, Octavian here cut off his hand to retrieve the ring. Most likely bled to death. The rest managed to escape. Like I said, we found no survivors."

Thunderbeard took a step forward, then turned Octavian over with his foot.

He tilted his head to get a better look at him, but he quickly got tired of what was left of Octavian staring blankly back. His mouth was open and smoke came coming out between his parted, deathly-white lips. Thunderbeard nodded in understanding.

"He's not going to survive," Ganymede offered.

Thunderbeard nodded again, then began to walk around the body, coming to a stop directly over Octavian's head.

"Why wait?" said the Captain. The third man, one of Octavian's mutineer crew members turned from one man to the other, only slightly worried about his defeated leader and infinitely more concerned about his own neck.

Thunderbeard turned to the man, who began to shake in turn.

"I… I know n-nothing! Nothing! I saw n-nothing!" the man whispered desperately.

"You saw nothing?"

"I s-swear! Nothing at all!" he answered helplessly.

"Well then, good sir. We thank you for your efforts in bringing Captain Octavian back. You shall be well taken care of. Go find Metis for your reward."

The man looked about to pass out, but he began to bow and take cautious steps back. "T-thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" he stammered as he dragged his feet, but seemed unable to move further than that.

Ganymede threw him a quick glance. "You may go if you want."

The man didn't need to be told twice. He turned on his heels and ran away as fast as he could, never to be seen again.

"Honestly, where does one get men like those?" Ganymede asked off-handedly, shaking his head distastefully. "I hope Metis kills him quickly, he looks like a screamer to me, and I'm in no mood for that."

Suddenly, Octavian's eyes grew wide and he began to cough. With each wet exhalation, puffs of black smoke came out of his mouth like a broken-down locomotive running on coal.

"Ah," said Thunderbeard, crossing his arms over his chest and looking if only slightly more interested than he had so far. "You do, of course, know what is happening?"

Ganymede frowned.

"All I've been told, over and over again, by his crew of witless bandits, is that Octavian swallowed the ring, then ghosts appeared. The men scattered right after, only a few had the presence of mind to get this idiot out."

"Greedy fool," Thunderbeard interrupted, raising a hand. "He tried to take the ring for himself, did he? Ah, I would laugh. Backstabbing, simple Octavian. You never knew what you were dealing with, did you? You saw a magic ring and you thought you'd just keep it for yourself."

Ganymede smiled. "Captain is as shrewd as always."

Thunderbeard chuckled humorlessly. "I am. Now, shall we hasten things up? He's only been back two seconds and I'm already tired of his face."

Without waiting for his right-hand man to assent, Thunderbeard raised his leg and quickly stomped on Octavian's stomach, burying the man's midriff a few inches into the sand while his arms and legs flew into the air.

With a massive cough, a silver object came flying out of Octavian's mouth, and Thunderbeard caught it in mid-air. The bearded man outstretched his palm and held the object closer to his face, inspecting it with triumph in his eyes.

"Finally," he whispered.

Ganymede stared at his master, torn between admiration for his Captain and disgust at the object that had only been dislodged out of another man's breathing pipe.

On the ground, Octavian coughed feebly. There was no smoke coming out of his mouth anymore. Instead, he began to make a gurgling sound that was quickly followed by a bloody cough, and Octavian was no more.

"Uh," Ganymede stammered, getting his Captain's attention. "Was that supposed to happen?"

Thunderbeard frowned as he looked down at Octavian.

"Worthless scumbag," he said, then spat on Octavian's lifeless face. "Couldn't even kill him before you took his ring, eh? That'll show you. No matter, a minor complication. Although I could have done without… it does give me a chance to get back to the sea. I don't know if I should thank you, actually."

He spoke to the dead body as if he were still alive, and he even sounded a little bit more cheerful as he did so.

"Captain?" asked Ganymede.

"Ready my ship. As a matter of fact, ready all the ships. We're sailing out as soon as morning breaks."

"May I ask what this is about? You've got the ring now, just don't swallow it like this sea biscuit here did and you should be fine, yeah?"

Thunderbeard threw his servant a hard glare.

"You are supposed to be the smart one, Ganymede."

The attendant frowned.

"This is the object we've been hunting for all these years, is it not? You've got it now, I don't see the problem."

Thunderbeard smirked, then put the ring in his little finger with difficulty, as it barely even fit down to his first phalange. He raised his hand to admire it, his eyes hungry and colder than ever.

"Get the eagles. We're scouting all the ships in the Mediterranean. The world, if it comes down to it," he said, turning away from the dead man and walking back to his spot between the cushions.

"Captain? What are we looking for? You've got the ring," said Ganymede, only just managing to tone down his skepticism and frustration.

Thunderbeard turned his head only slightly.

"Fool. Octavian is dead for trying to use the powers of Angelica. The same fate will befall me if I attempt to do the same, do you need me to spell it out for you?"

Ganymede stood his ground, but he did not reply.

Thunderbeard sighed, then plopped down over a large cushion. He bent his knee and rested his hand upon it, admiring the ring.

"It means Nico di Angelo is still alive. So long as he lives, the ring will not belong to me."

A few miles northeast what was left of the Valhalla cheese farm, a small tornado tore past the rough vegetation that led to the sea, straight towards the beach, raising up clouds of sand as it did so. Feeble screams could be heard from within, followed by a few grunts, then the distinctive retching sounds of someone emptying their stomach, which was in turn, followed by more screams and grunts.

The tornado came to a stop just as it reached the line where sand met the sea, and four solid figures were spat into the shallow water, rolling around like boulders before coming to a stop, whereupon they were immediately swallowed by the white froth of the surf.

Five vaporous figures left the small tornado one at a time – barely visible under the hot rays of the sun – just where surf licked at the sand, and the tornado dissipated into a breath of salty air. The five ghosts that emerged out of the tornado stood deathly still and unaffected by the wave of nausea that had seemingly befallen the men struggling out of the shallows.

In the water, Will was the first to get to his feet, coughing loudly and drawing a hand across his wet face.

"Wh-who… threw… up?!" he bellowed, trying to keep his gagging to a minimum. He turned to his companions, and his eyes fell instantly on Nico, who was struggling to his feet. Will waded to him and helped him up.

"Not me," Nico replied with disgust. He allowed Will to pull him to his feet, then bent forwards to wash vomit off his shirt. As he cupped his hands to collect some water, his eyes landed on his ghost hand and he flinched, trying to step away from it.

"Honestly," Will said, rolling his eyes. "You'll need to get used to that."

"Shut up," Nico spat back, then they both turned as Magnus's panicked voice reached their ears.

"I'm alive! I'm alive! I didn't die! By Odin! I'm not asleep, this isn't a dream! This water is real! I might have pissed myself… thank God I'm wet. I don't want to wake up and realize it's all a dream now… I haven't wet the bed since I was a child… Blitz and Hearth will never let it go… Oh! But they're there! Hi! Blitzen! Hearthstone!" Magnus was knee-deep in water, taking feeble steps towards the beach, waving his arms in the direction of the ghosts like a castaway who had spotted a ship in the distance.

Will and Nico exchanged looks.

"Do you think turtle bone soup would do the trick?" asked Will with a concerned frown, wondering if Magnus was suffering from some kind of after-ghost shock that could be treated with the same concoction that worked so well on the Ghost Master himself.

Nico shook his head. "Is that really what's in your mind right now?"

"Hahaha!" Magnus laughed maniacally, pointing a finger in their direction. "Uranus whose name is Will and Plutarch whose name is Nico! I love you two! You are both ma – ma – magi – magician – mathematicians!"

Next to him, another figure rose from the water, but promptly fell back down on all fours. Frank Zhang raised his head momentarily, then began to projectile vomit into the sea.

Nico made a grimace and looked at Will. "I'm getting out of this water, ghost hand or not."

Magnus continued to laugh, pointing a finger in Frank's direction instead. "It was you!" he bellowed.

Frank retched in turn, only his arched back and the top of his head visible over the water that engulfed him.

Will and Nico reached the beach side by side, neither of them daring to step too far away from the other.

It had taken them a few hours to reach the sea. They would have probably arrived twice as fast had they been riding on horses, but given Will's vague phrasing of his command, the amateur ghosts had taken the liberty of interpreting his will as best they could. First, the ghosts had gathered Will, Nico, Magnus and Frank up and set them on their backs, piggyback-riding them away from the farm at a dawdling speed before Will decided to take sensible action and order them to stop. Their further attempts had been just as unsuccessful, and they would have advanced faster had they been going on foot. When Will, a few hours later, had commanded them to be creative and simply get them to the sea as fast as possible, he hadn't expected them to turn into a ghostly tornado and swallow them in, zigzagging their way east.

Once Magnus and Frank had been collected out of the water by the ghosts at the behest of Will, the four living members of the entourage collapsed on the sand and took a few minutes to gather their bearings.

It was a beautiful day now that the storm had gone after doing its worst. The sea glittered peacefully and invitingly, which Will found almost too good to be true.

To everyone's surprise, it was Frank who spoke first.

"I am turning in my resignation as soon as I'm back onboard the Argo II," he said, more to himself than to anyone else, but him breaking the silence seemed to prompt the rest back to life.

Will lay on his back, the hot sand seeping into him. He turned to his right, where Nico himself lay, and their eyes met.

"What now?" Will asked quietly, sure Nico could hear him.

Nico stared at him with sad eyes, a sight Will could have lived without.

The dark-haired captain stretched out his arm, reaching out to Will with his left hand – his living hand. Will reached out and laced their fingers together.

"Do you remember my ship?" Nico whispered.

Will could hear him loud and clear, as if they were laying shoulder to shoulder. He realized, perhaps, that he was hearing Nico's voice inside his head as well as right next to him, a mere yard away.

"Yes," Will replied.

"What do you remember?" Nico asked again.

Will took his time to reply, making sure he could picture the vessel before he began to describe it. He saw it in his mind as he did that very first night when the ship had risen out of the water directly underneath his own feet.

He saw the long panels of greenish, rotting wood that made up the floor of the main deck, stretching out endlessly before his feet just as water cleared off the deck and began to pour down the hull. He saw the main mast jut out of the water, thick as a Greek marble column, with its crow's nest at the very top and a Jolly Roger flag – a white skull over a blood-red heart skewered by an arrow.

As the ship began to take shape in his mind, Will felt as if he were being drawn back into the water by the gentle surf that licked at his calves. He paid it no mind, as he took a mental trip back onboard the Charon, Nico's ghost vessel, and its barnacle-encrusted corridors.

It was one of the largest ships in which Will had ever sailed, and he'd only had time to barely appreciate its sheer size and otherworldly beauty before he had been forced to abandon it.

When the ship had risen under his feet, that very first night, he hadn't had much time to take in its height before he passed out, but he remembered they had definitely been a few stories above sea level. That night he had been escorted to the back area towards the cabin with the tub, he had walked down a long, narrow corridor, lit by candlelight. He remembered the room where they had dined on oysters and lobsters – where he and Nico had shared more than a few indiscreet kisses. In his memory, foggy as it might have been, the Charon was a monster of vessels.

As he reached that point in his recollections, just when he'd been about to open his mouth to reply to Nico's question, Will felt as if he'd been siphoned away from the beach. He gasped when he felt wooden planks under his feet, and the roughness of canvas under his fingertips, it felt all too real and he would have really feared he had been snatched into the sea, had he not also felt the warmth of the sand beneath him.

"I remember everything," he heard himself say, ignoring the nausea brought on by the illusion.

"I do too," Nico replied instantly, and his voice was definitely inside Will's mind as he spoke. He sounded surprised, and if Will hadn't come to know Nico so well over the past few weeks, he would have pegged him for scared instead.

Wh-what… what is happening? Will asked, then he realized he hadn't spoken a word out loud.

Nico's fingers held onto him, and Will couldn't have pried his fingers away if his life depended on it.

Call him, call Charon. Call his name, Will, Nico instructed him in his mind, the sadness in his voice all the more discernible.

"Charon," Will said out loud.

Charon, Nico's voice echoed through their mental link.

"What the –" Frank's voice reached them from a few yards away, loud and clear.

To his surprise, that single interjection seemed to have broken the spell, and Will found he was able to let go of Nico's fingers. He got to his feet and took a few steps back as his eyes fell on the bubbling water in the distance.

"Nico?" Will asked, his eyes still on the strange phenomenon, but at the lack of response, he turned to the dark-haired Captain.

Nico lay motionless on his back, his arms and legs spread out like a starfish, a blank expression on his face.

Then all of a sudden, the surface of the sea was violently punctured by a wooden stake jutting upwards, instantly followed by a flag, a crow's nest, two additional masts, then three massive, soaked canvas sails, jet-black and covered in seaweed.

Will gasped and took a step back, stealing a few glances at Nico, who remained unmovable on his spot.

The hull of the Charon rose majestically out of the water, one stage at a time, and it took all of Will's self-control not to lose his composure.

Last time the Charon had emerged out of the water, Will had been standing on it, and he had missed the grand spectacle that it was witnessing it from afar.

He had seen dolphins, whales and other marine creatures breach out of the water before… but that had been nothing, nothing, compared to the awe and reverence he felt at this particular moment, as the Charon, reformed and colossal, ascended out of the sea before his eyes.

At that particular moment, Will felt so powerful, so accomplished, so utterly triumphant, because they had successfully managed to summon the Charon to the surface, that he failed to register the thin layer of color that slowly diluted away from Nico's complexion, just as own cheeks grew pink.

"We did it! Nico, we did it!" Will hollered, punching the air then getting to his knees next to Nico. He grabbed Nico's shoulders and began to shake him awake.

"I hear you, I hear you. Stop shaking me," Nico complained, his voice feeble.

To an outsider, Nico might have looked as if he'd only been unwilling to rise from his lethargy, but Will was quick to notice his chapped lips and his heavy eyelids.

"Are you alright?" he asked, even though he knew he was not.

Somewhere nearby, Will heard Magnus's whooping voice and Frank's grunts as they both came to terms with the ghost vessel rising out of the water, which were difficult to ignore.

"Will you look at that?" Magnus hollered. "The sea just barfed up a whole ship! Is it alive? Is it dead? Who knows! I can't even tell anymore!"

"Ughhh," Frank grunted. "I think I'm going to be sick again."

The two continued to yell and grumble, and as they did so, Will grew increasingly impatient. Nico's eyes remained closed even though a frown was clearly stamped across his face, and no matter how hard Will shook him, he would not rise.

"Shut up!" Will yelled. He looked up and his eyes landed on the row of ghosts that remained immobile before him. "Can… can you get them to sleep? Please? Magnus and Frank, I can't have them awake anymore. I can't keep it together for the whole group, I need help! I can't do this alone, I can't, I simply can't!"

The beach was silent within seconds, as Magnus and Frank fell softly upon the sand, their heads cradled by Blitz and Hearth, who lay them gently down on the shallow water.

Will's neck gave way until his chin touched his chest, then he heaved a sigh of relief.

"Thank you. Please, take them onboard. Find them cabins, let them sleep, also find Jules-Albert. He'll know what to do," Will commanded weakly. When he opened his eyes, Nico was staring back at him with an ironic look in his eyes.

"You're good at giving orders," Nico commented.

Will closed his mouth, then smiled in relief.

"Are you playing with me?" he asked.

Nico laughed weakly, then drew Will's hair behind his ear with his ghost hand, and this time, he did not flinch back.

"You smell like vomit," he said.

Will only snorted at first, but quickly found he could not stop laughing. He got to his feet and offered a hand to Nico, who took it with only the slightest difficulty, then got to his feet himself.

"You did it," Nico said, swaying and bumping into Will, then pushing Will away as if it had been him who had wobbly legs. "You summoned the Charon."

Will shook his head, "I didn't do anything, it was all you."

Nico smiled sadly, raising his ghost hand before his face and inspecting it with curiosity instead of apprehension.

"You did," he said. "I've been calling it ever since we got here, and it only began to respond the moment you started picturing it in your mind. I saw it through your eyes, Will. I am… powerless."

Will did not like the despondent tone in Nico's voice, but his mind was too overwhelmed to dwindle on it any longer. Now that the ship was there, all he hoped for, all he wished and craved for, more than anything, was sleep. A small part of him wished Nico was still in charge of everything. He realized with a pang that this was no longer the case – not with Nico's energy merely a fraction of what it usually was. He did not want to dwell on the fact that Nico – his Nico – was wasting away before his eyes, just as he felt himself grow stronger and stronger by the second.

Nico took a step towards the ship, then bumped against Will for support.

"What is happening to you?" Will asked, catching Nico in his arms and inspecting him closely. He raised Nico's face to meet his own, his eyes running up and down the Captain's features.

Nico swatted his hand away, collecting himself and standing on his own.

"Everything is happening to me, Will. Now, let's go. I need a kip," he said, as he began to walk into the water towards the ship.

Will let him take a few steps on his own, and if he had been a crueler man, he would have let Nico walk on until he figured out he couldn't possibly walk on water, and perhaps watch him drown as he attempted to get to the ship.

Will was, however, not a cruel man, and as soon as Nico was waist-deep in sea water, Will turned to the ghost of Gunderson, who had remained behind, and politely commanded him to take them both onboard the Charon, which he did with only too much enthusiasm, gathering them in a small gust of wind and funneling them towards the hull, Nico's grunts of complaint barely visible over the sounds of pouring water.

A cruel fact became evident upon their arrival on deck. After the ghosts had found cabins for Frank and Mangus, they informed Will that there were no other souls, neither living nor dead, onboard the vessel: Nico's ghosts were nowhere to be found. This seemed to alarm Will more than it did Nico, who simply dragged his feet across the deck towards the Captain's lodgings – a large cabin that served both as sleeping quarters and the Captain's office, where meetings took place.

"Nico?" Will asked, taking quick steps in his direction. "Wh-what do we do now?"

Nico turned and beckoned Will to follow him into the cabin.

When they entered, Nico walked around the handsome mahogany table that held the Captain's affairs – maps, curious charting instruments, quill and ink – but stopped before reaching the Captain's chair. Instead, he plopped down on the second chair nearest to the door, the one visitors usually occupied. Will followed him with his eyes, and as soon as Nico sat down, Will knew something was wrong.

"Talk to me," Will said quickly, coming to a stop before Nico and getting to his knees.

Nico pinched the bridge of his nose with his living hand and remained in silence for a few seconds.

"Nico?" Will repeated, then reached out to pry Nico's hand away from his face. Only then did Nico look up, and there was a bitter smile on his face.

"I'm afraid it's no good, Will," he said. "The ship no longer does my bidding. I've been trying to speak to it, I've been commanding it to wrap up and set sail, but it's no good. It won't respond to me. Without the ring, I have all of the curse, but none of its powers."

He laughed sadly, then tenderly trailed his living fingers across Will's face.

"You on the other hand, have none of the curse, and all of its powers," he added ironically.

Will looked wildly into Nico's eyes, searching for more.

"Why me?" he asked.

Nico laughed that mirthless laugh again, which made Will's hairs stand on end.

"Why you, indeed," Nico replied.

"What can I do?" Will asked softly.

Nico shook his head, then inched in to peck Will on the lips.

"If I could have it my way, I would set sail for Genoa, maroon Frank Zhang on the way, then drop you and Magnus in the nearest Genoese port. Then I would find me the most treacherous stretch of sea and wait for the curse to take me. I'm tired, Will."

Will frowned and shook his head.

"Why do you say that? I'm not going anywhere without you, you can't just give up, we need to go on, we need to fight, we'll get your ring back, I know we can –"

"Will," Nico interrupted. "Calm down. I can't do any of those things, don't you understand? Without the ring, it's all on you. You're the one at the helm. You're… you're in charge now, I'm afraid."

Will shook his head furiously, then squeezed Nico's hand.

"Why is this happening? How did it come to this? What did I ever do to take your powers away from you? I don't want this, Nico, I don't, you're in charge, not me!" Will said desperately.

"I don't think it's something you've done. I'm sure I'm the one to blame here. I've somehow transferred some of the powers of the curse onto you, and now, with the ring gone, you're all we've got left. You're my last remaining connection to the curse of Angelica. I'm sorry I put you in this position, Will. I'm… truly sorry."

"Don't be sorry," said Will, whispering into Nico's mouth. "I don't want you to ever say that to me again. If there's anything I can do, rest assured it will be done. Tell me what you need done, Nico. Can we… can we heal you? Turtle bone soup? Anything?"

Nico laughed. "I'm not exactly sure, but without an object in which to harness the curse, it only makes sense that it will begin to poison me, as it did all those years ago, when Bianca died," he said. Nico looked at Will through half-lidded eyes, then gently drew a curl of Will's hair behind his ear.

"No!" Will interjected. "There must be something – can't you find another object? Can't you get yourself another treasure?"

Nico laughed feebly, then shrugged.

"There are no instructions I can check, you know? This is as new to you as it is to me."

Will bit his lower lip, just as his eyes landed on Nico's ghost hand. The mystery of its appearance began to grow larger in his mind, and the lack of answers or clues as to where to proceed seemed suddenly overwhelming.

He took Nico's ghost hand and pulled it next to Nico's living hand, which made the young Captain flinch. Cupping both of Nico's hands in his own, Will leaned forward and pressed his forehead to their laced fingers.

"I promised I would help you. I swore an oath I would, and I'm not about to break it. We called the Charon by working together, as Alex said we should. Now, we can order it to leave and take us back to the sea, somewhere safe where we can rest and think. What do you say, Nico? Will you let me help you? Will you help me? Can we do this together? I can't do this on my own, I… I don't know what to do."

Nico searched Will's face, then stared at their hands – three living, one ghostly. He couldn't help but smile at the strange vision, just as much as he couldn't help his chest swell with affection at the young merchant before him. He vaguely remembered the poem his father had recited to him before they parted ways, and the small scroll he had given him, which seemed to burn a hole through Nico's soaked breeches. He couldn't bring himself to think about that now. He leaned in and pressed his mouth to Will's cheek.

"Together, then. Southeast towards Palermo, we can't take the Messina Strait, it's too heavily guarded, we'll have to circumvent the entire island of Sicily, then head East," Nico whispered into Will's ear.

Will swallowed and nodded. He pictured the route with difficulty, as images of bloodshed overlapped his limited charting knowledge, but he repeated the instructions in his mind just as Nico spoke.

When he felt a ripple go through him, he knew Nico had felt it too, and just like that, he knew it had worked. The Charon began to creak and pull out into the sea without assistance. Next to them, on the Captain's work table, the maps began to rearrange themselves, mapping the route as if by magic.

Will's eyes widened and he gasped, but he was afraid to step away from Nico, and remained where he knelt, their faces touching at the cheek.

"What's east?" Will whispered.

Nico moved an inch, then pressed his lips to Will's.

"Greece," he said, speaking into Will's mouth.

"Greece," Will repeated. "What's in Greece?"

Nico sighed. "I'm not sure, but it'll give us time to think. And sleep. I need a good two days of sleep, then things might start to make sense. I'm too confused now, and I'm dead tired, Will. Dead tired."

Will nodded. "I understand. I'll let you sleep, maybe I can get the guys to find us some food for later," he stopped, hoping he wasn't taking too many liberties and making Nico feel even more distraught by reminding him that the ghosts currently onboard the ship did his bidding, and not Nico's.

"Stay with me," Nico said, getting to his feet and pulling Will towards the bed. "I can't stand to be away from you, not even now that …"

He stopped, then turned his head to face Will.

"Now that what?" Will asked.

They stood in the middle of the cabin, halfway towards the large bed in the back.

Nico smiled. "Now that you're Captain of the Charon."

Shocked, Will pulled Nico into his arms and rested his chin on Nico's shoulder, squeezing tightly.

"You're Captain, Nico. You'll always be Captain. You'll always be my Captain. Don't you dare argue with me."

Nico chuckled, then hugged Will back.

"Aye, aye," he said, patting him on the back. "I will ask you to do one thing for me now, though."

"Anything," said Will, taking a step back, his hands still on Nico's shoulders.

"Call the ghosts in for a word," he said.

Will did as he was told, and not a second later, the ghosts of Gunderson, Mallory Keen, T.J., Hearth and Blitz floated before them in ceremonious silence.

"Uh," Will said. "Nico has something to say to you."

Nico chuckled and shook his head. "I'm afraid they won't listen to me, Will. You'll need to command them, but before that, you need to name them. Give them some sense."

"Name them?" Will frowned. He recalled something Alex had told him when they first met, something about naming him – or was it her at the time? – to see if she or he would belong to him as well. It had worked. After Will had renamed the ghost Alex, she had done everything Will asked of her.

Why had he been able to call her into his service at the time? Was it then when he had started to steal Nico's powers away? The thought of him stealing anything away from Nico seemed to cut through him like an actual blade.

He wouldn't think of that now, he decided.

Will crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't like that, they've already got names. And they should listen to their Captain."

Nico sighed and shook his head sadly, as if Will had been a mere child who simply failed to see any sense in what he said.

"When Jules-Albert died, I was beyond myself with grief. He had been my valet since I was born, and had stuck with me throughout my worst. That includes finding out my sister had left me a curse that awarded me unworldly powers, so you can imagine just how much the old fart was attached to me. His death was quick and unexpected, and in my grief, I managed to summon him back to me. I won't lie to you by telling you it was easy and natural, on the contrary, it almost broke me to have his pale figure follow me around like a shadow without thought, without sense. Months went by before I realized he had lost his humanity in death, and it was my duty to return it to him, just as I had managed to give him back a slightest remnant of life," said Nico. He spoke softly, reminiscently, and Will followed every word with rapture.

"Life… is meaningless without a will to live," said Nico quietly. "You will find this remains so when you have the power to recall those who have died, and bring them back to life. Ask yourself, what life is it that you are awarding them? A life without something to live for is meaningless. Do them the kindness of giving them something to live for. It may be revenge, that often works best. But it may be servitude. Do not frown upon the word without understanding the meaning behind it. I can see you are growing outraged simply by the way you're looking at me. I am not a cruel man, Will, I trust you to know that by now."

"I know that," Will cut in sharply. His eyes flew upon the faces of those men and woman he had summoned back to life in that moment of utter despair, and his cheeks reddened with shame. He had, for hours on end, thought himself cruel by having summoned them back from their deaths, and if he had thought so of himself, then Nico would have equally fit the description, an idea Will was not comfortable with. On the other hand, servitude was not something to which he wanted to subject his friends. Not even if it gave meaning to their lives after death.

Nico's eyes drank him in, as if he knew what went through Will's mind, but he continued as if he had no idea whatsoever.

"Then believe me when I say this. Servitude has different facets and comes in diverse degrees. Jules-Albert was not a slave to me alive, nor is he in death. He was my employee, but he found himself emotionally bound to me from the day I was born, because that was the meaning he gave to his life. Cruel as it may sound, his social status placed him below mine, and he considered himself lucky to have held the position of my valet. Indeed he was, I believe, lucky, for there were many others in his position who found themselves serving in families that treated them cruelly, even violently. Growing up, other than Bianca, I considered him my closest friend. Not a servant, but a friend. Can you understand that, will?"

"I can understand that," Will cut in, intent on adding more to his interjection.

"When I brought him back to life, I did not ask his permission. He might have been halfway to heaven or hell when I summoned him back, and yet the curse bound him back to me for life… my life. I have not yet found a way to take my summons back, and believe me, I would if I could. The Angelica curse is cruel in its own way, for I have no way of taking back anything I do with its powers. Once I've collected, the deed is done. Once I've summoned a soul back, it cannot be returned unless a deal has been struck and it has been fulfilled. Jules-Albert is bound to me, partly because it was me who summoned him back, but also because he was bound to me before he died, and that was his own prerogative. It wasn't until after he died that I realized the old fart must have loved me like a son, and was thusly bound to me, for as long as I live, whether he had died or not, and that made all the difference to me. In the end, I returned his name to him, and asked if he would follow me. He has been with me ever since."

Nico stopped talking suddenly, then drew a hand through his tousled hair.

Will had nothing to say in turn. He merely stared at Nico with a mixture of apprehension and fear. His eyes landed on the ghostly faces of the former inhabitants of the Valhalla cheese farm. If he had understood what Nico had just told him, he needed to find a way to give meaning to their lives… and the idea seemed so simple in his mind that, for a second, he could not bring himself to believe it was so. He only had to make sure he was right, and that his idea would work.

"But these guys," Will whispered. He did not want to sound like he was objecting to Nico's take on the whole ghost-summoning curse, so he spoke slowly, gently. "They were under no obligation to follow me before they died. This time around, it is me who has called them back, against their will."

Nico smiled. "So more than ever, you must offer them something in return. Give them something back, and you can start by giving them back their names."

"Y-You simply renamed Jules-Albert?" Will asked quietly. "Just like that?"

Nico shrugged. "I believe we had a nonsensical conversation, which ended up in me telling him his name was Jules-Albert and would always remain so. He came back to life instantly, so to speak. A pain in my ass all the way, which is normal for him. When he died… well, there were no other men involved specifically, so I couldn´t offer him revenge. in the end, I asked him if he wanted to serve me in death, yes."

Will was surprised Nico could look so calm at discussing the ghost that would not leave him after death, and yet was nowhere to be found.

He took a deep breath and turned to face his ghostly entourage.

"Guys, uh, first of all, thank you for bringing us here. I know some of you may not have sailed in a long time… or maybe ever? I'm not so sure. Anyway, this is the Charon, and Nico is Captain."

The ghosts remained motionless, their eyes still on Will.

"This is not going to work, Will," Nico warned with a smile.

"Shut up," Will hissed, then turned his attention back to the ghosts. "I realize you might be obligated to answer to me only, but, uh… could you please… also answer to Nico?"

Nico snorted, then sat on the bed, which made a squishy sound under him, as water dripped down the wooden frame.

"Ugh, the whole place is soaked," Nico complained.

"How did it work before? What did you have Jules Albert do when the ship came out of the sea?" Will asked.

Nico began to kick off his boots, then removed his soaked shirt, which landed on the floor with a loud splat.

"They're ghosts, the ethereal essence of their souls works through air, water vapor and something I haven't been able to make out. When they are strong enough, fresh enough, they can solidify when commanded," he raised his ghostly hand. "Like you did with my hand, which I'm not sure belongs to me more than it does to you. Anyway, they can also extract water from wet surfaces, meaning they can help us dry out our garments and beds. I'm all in for sleeping in a dry bed, but before that, you need to name them. If you don't, they are no more than slaves. You don't want that, do you?"

Will flinched. "Slaves?" he asked, his voice high.

"You heard me. You don't have to change their names, but you do need to re-introduce yourself, tell them what their names will be from now on, and the rest should come naturally. You'll come to understand them soon enough."

Will turned to face the ghosts with a frown on his face. How could he re-name the people he had come to know over the last few days? It felt strangely abusive, tyrannical, even. There was a part of him, however, that reassured him that Nico was right, and that part of him might have spoken in the voice of a woman in the back of his mind.

"Alright," Will said.

He faced Gunderson, who was nearest. "Uh, hello. I am Will, you have known me as U-Uranus," he stopped and looked at Nico, who stifled a laugh in turn. Will shook his head and rolled his eyes, then returned his attention to the ghost. "My name is William Solace, you may call me Will. I'm sorry I withheld my name from you, from all of you. I… I… rechristen you, Gunderson. From now on, that will be your name."

"Hello, Will. I am Gunderson," the ghost spoke in a gruff, yet strangely constrained voice.

Will turned to Nico with a frown. Gunderson didn't sound like himself at all.

"If you want him to be more like his living self, you must tell him, otherwise he will remain docile, you'll need to be weirdly specific with them from now on, otherwise they start taking random liberties, I've told you this before," Nico added.

It made sense. Will remembered when he had made a side comment to Alex, all those weeks ago, wondering out loud why he – he had been male at the time – couldn't at least pretend to be more human, whereupon the ghost had solidified before his eyes, obeying his words to the dot.

Will returned his attention to the giant ghost. "I command you to be just like you were when… when you were alive. I want to give you a choice, I…"

He stopped for a moment to think. He did not want to sound like he was ordering him all the time, but he also didn't want him to possibly begin taking crazy liberties. He should be like a regular sailor, with a vote and a voice, onboard the vessel. Just another member of Captain Di Angelo's crew.

Over on the bed, Nico drank him in intently, his right eyebrow raised, his breeches halfway down his legs.

Will took a deep breath and spoke to Gunderson.

"You are permitted to do and say whatever you want. As far as I'm concerned, you never died. Oh! I also command you to take orders from that man right there, you may know him as Plutarch, but his name is Nico, and you must call him Captain. Do this for me, and I will see to your murderers. Do you understand what I'm telling you, Gunderson? You are alive, and he is your Captain," he said, pointing at Nico, who immediately stopped taking off his breeches and flinched back in surprise.

"Will-" Nico stammered.

"Agh!" groaned Gunderson, stretching his arms over his head. Out from the vaporous stumps that turned into clear air before reaching the floor, there suddenly solidified the distinct outline of feet, then boots, and the floor creaked underneath him, as if he'd only just landed into the cabin from the upper deck.

Will's eyes widened and he took a step back, looking at Nico.

"Oh, no," Nico said, then braced himself for the attack. Gunderson practically ran the short distance that separated him from Nico, then took the young Captain's head under his armpit and began to tousle his hair.

"Here you are, you little –" Gunderson grunted playfully between gritted teeth, while Nico squirmed underneath him, unable to pry himself free from the giant's grasp.

Will stood frozen on the spot, staring at the exchange, then turning to look at the remaining ghosts, who hadn't moved an inch and barely seemed to notice what was happening around them.

"Get… off… me!" Nico grunted, then Gunderson stepped away from him with a huge grin on his face.

"Aye, Captain," said the giant, then turned to look at Will. "Hello, William Solace. Definitely better than Uranus."

Will did not move. He drew a sharp breath just as tears began to run down his cheeks.

Gunderson crossed the small distance that separated them in two giant strides, then placed his somewhat solid hands on Will's shoulders.

"None of that," said the giant man. "You do not blame yourself. You brought me back. You brought us back. Trust me, I harbor nothing but gratitude in this heart of mine. I am yours to command, Will."

It took Will more than a few minutes to regain his composure, with both Gunderson and Nico patting him on the back. By the time he had repeated the same procedure with each of the ghostly entourage, the Captain's cabin seemed a tight fit to hold the personalities of so many colorful people, and Will found himself fresh out of tears.

Once they had somewhat settled, Nico had the ghosts siphon the water out of the mattress and sheets, and they suffered in silence as Hearth and Blitz tornadoed around them to dry off their clothes. In a way, it felt much like it did back in Valhalla, when they all divided the chores amongst themselves and got to work (mostly) without a word of complain, and for a second, Will almost forgot that the new crew members of the Charon were ghosts.

"Alright, alright, just get the fuck off me already," Nico complained weakly, walking away from the figures of Blitz and Hearth who fussed about the state of his clothes and hair.

Will smiled broadly and sighed, feeling exhausted but infinitely more at peace now that his friends (he saw them as friends) had regained most of their liveliness.

"Guys," Will said. "Let's have a quick talk, gather around please."

Some of them did so immediately, while some others (Gunderson and Keen) took a few seconds to stop their regular bickering. There was a significant difference in the way they now stood around Will and Nico. They no longer floated on thin air, for instance, and their stances were relaxed, even bored.

"Uh… we've set course for Sicily. We'll need a few days to recover our energy. I'll need you to keep a look-out for approaching ships –"

"Don't wake me up unless we're being boarded… no, wait. Not even then. Do not wake me up, no matter what," said Nico, leaning back on the Captain's desk and stifling a yawn.

Will rolled his eyes. "I'm going to override that command. Do wake us up if you sense danger. I'm allowing you to follow your own judgment should the need arise. T.J., you're in charge."

"Aye," said the man, saluting Will in a strangely military fashion that made Nico snort.

"Hearth and Blitz, see if you can collect some food. Anything with bones should do. It would be great if we had something to eat when we wake up. Also, please see to Magnus and Frank Zhang, they should be well taken care of, make sure they are safe," Will commanded kindly, turning to check with Nico in case he wanted to add something.

"I'm good," Nico said, seemingly reading Will's mind. "Just don't set the goddamn ship on fire, I don't have another one. Gunderson, you're in charge of that."

"Aye, Captain," said the giant as he cracked his knuckles menacingly.

"In charge of not setting the ship on fire, eh?" Keen interjected. "Who's in charge of putting out the fire when he does it anyway?"

A round of laughter followed, and Will had to raise his hands for silence.

"Just one last thing," he said, stealing a glance at Nico who stood behind him with his arms crossed. "I don't understand much of what is going on… neither of us do, but rest assured, we will set things right for you. We will see to those who were responsible for your deaths. I swear."

No one spoke, they merely nodded solemnly, and another ripple went through Will, and this time, Nico seemed utterly unaffected by it.

"Let that suffice," said Nico with an exhausted smile. He took a step forward and put his ghost hand on Will's shoulder.

The ghosts looked at each other.

"That's our cue to leave," muttered T.J. under his breath, and without waiting for a direct order, the ghosts turned towards the door and disappeared through the walls.

"I like them," said Nico. "Now."

Will glared at him. "You're horrible."

Nico laughed, then pulled Will into his arms. "Sleep with me."

They disrobed in silence. Nico took his time unlacing Will's shirt and sash, but when he got to Will's breeches, he stopped.

"I don't think you should be taking those off for the time being," he whispered with a frown. Alex-Fierro's words still resonated in his mind, but he was still too tired to dwell on the possibility that Will had somehow chosen this particular garment as treasure, and if that had been the case, he could not step out of them no matter what.

Will frowned in turn, but nodded nonetheless.

None of them had any qualms about removing Nico's breeches, however, and when they got into bed, the Captain lay stark naked on his side, reaching out a hand and beckoning Will to join him.

"What did you mean when you said you weren't sure just how much your hand belongs to you?" Will whispered. He lay on his side next to Nico, barely a few inches away. The sheets smelled salty, but when Will pulled them over their bodies, they felt dry enough.

Nico raised his hand between their faces and wiggled his ghostly fingers.

"I'm not sure. It feels like it truly belongs to me, but it might still do your bidding if you command it, like any other ghost you recall to your service," he replied.

Will stared at the ghostly hand, wondering if Nico's words held any truth in them.

"Try it," Nico whispered. "Give it a command."

Will blinked slowly, even though his eyelids were heavy with sleep and his body felt beyond exhausted, he knew he was beginning to blush as Nico's ghostly hand reached out and began to trail a gentle path down his stomach. It wasn't the same color as Nico's skin, but it felt real enough as it cupped the front of Will's breeches and squeezed his erection gently.

Nico smirked, then closed his eyes.

"The thing is, we'll never know who is controlling this hand right now," he said, palming Will's cock, "you or me."

Will chuckled, then pulled Nico to his chest.

"Stop talking," he commanded, and within seconds, they were asleep.

Frank Zhang woke up to the sound of birds. It wasn't often he could tell the difference between avian sounds and regular sounds, but by the time he opened his eyes after seemingly being asleep for a thousand years, the first thing that came into his mind was: There´s those blasted birds again.

He rubbed his eyes for what felt like half an hour before he found himself able to open them and stare around the room in which he found himself. He had perhaps woken up a few times over the last few days (or had it been a single night?) and spotted a few strange objects – a seaweed-covered writing desk, a broken mirror, a living lobster walking across the floor – but there had definitely not been any bird cages last time he checked.

"Frank – GODDAMMIT – Frank – GODDAMMIT" came a strange voice from out the window.

Frank shook his head and quickly got to his feet, mostly ignoring his surroundings but keeping an eye out for wayward crustaceans.

The cabin was relatively large, but the window was just wide enough for a grown man to poke his head through, which Frank promptly did. He spotted Aurum before he did Argento, who flew only a few feet behind, keeping a close to the hull.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Frank asked, but was quick to shut his mouth. The birds were extraordinary messengers, but they had the habit of memorizing each word and repeating them verbatim, and he did not want to have to explain to his Captain why he cursed at him instead of conveying important information.

He knew the situation was precarious. From what he remembered, he found himself onboard The Charon, Nico di Angelo's ghost vessel, and he had no way of knowing their current coordinates or where they were heading. He would need to investigate, and for that, he would need the birds to remain nearby, just until he could procure the information necessary to send word back to Captain Jackson.

Frank whistled a few notes, and removed his head from the window, allowing the birds inside his cabin.

Aurum flew in at such an alarming speed the bird crashed into the mirror, breaking it into a thousand pieces. Behind him flew Argento, who landed on the back of a chair with grace.

Frank made a gesture of silence, careful not to speak, then motioned for them to stay as he walked to the door. He looked around for any signs of his weapons, and was only mildly disappointed when he realized there were none. The ghosts must have taken them away when they boarded.

The ghosts, he thought, trying to suppress a shiver. As soon as he retrieved some useful information and passed it on to the birds, he made a vow to carefully analyze the events that had transpired over the last few days, starting with the fact that there was such a thing as ghosts.

Frank opened the door carefully and made a grimace when it made a loud creaking noise. He knew how to move about stealthily, especially onboard a strange vessel, but he had never been inside a ghost ship before, and with every step he took, Frank feared the ground would turn into vapor beneath his feet and he would simply fall through into the sea.

Fortunately for him, nothing of the sort happened. He reached the main deck within a few minutes, and even though his heart beat madly and his clothes were drenched in cold sweat, he did not find his path blocked by any apparition, which he took as a good sign.

It was a beautiful day, the sun glistening brightly on the polished wooden floors, which Frank hadn't expected to look so pristine given to the fact that the boards belonged to a ghost ship summoned from underwater.

A distance of about thirty yards separated him from the other side of the deck, where a door led into the Captain's lodgings. He could risk it, simply running as fast as he could and breaking down the door, whereupon he would have to move quickly, find a sharp object and collect a hostage. He could make it, he was confident enough.

Without stopping to further consider other options, Frank Zhang took a deep breath and positively flew across the deck towards the Captain's door. He didn't even notice how or when he was stopped. In the blink of an eye, he had been turned on his heels and spat out onto the deck by a cold, wispy force.

"Fuck, what the –" he said, getting to his feet and adopting a combative stance.

"Good morning," said the ghost named T.J., who looked at him with a pleasant smile on his face. He was visible underneath the hard glare of the sun, but only barely.

Frank took a step back, then he hit something hard. He turned around quickly and his eyes landed on a massive ghostly chest.

"Fuck –" he stammered, and took another step back. He found himself sandwiched between the two ghostly figures of T.J. and Gunderson, who simply smiled back.

"Finally," said the giant. "Took you three days to wake up."

Frank blinked and swallowed hard.

"T-three days?" he asked, drawing a hand across his sweaty forehead. A cold wave went through him, setting his teeth on edge.

"About three, yes," added T.J., making Frank whirl around. "That's good you woke up, too. We've managed to get some water into you, but food is an altogether different matter."

Frank's eyes darted from one ghost to the other, unsure as to how to proceed. In the distance, the Captain's door remained resolutely shut, as if they hadn't heard the commotion they were making, which could mean that the Captain was asleep – a perfect time to be taken hostage.

Frank spent the next few minutes trying to get around the ghosts in different fashions: by going around them, running through them, jumping over them, clawing at them with his bare hands, but nothing worked. He always found himself thrown upon the very same spot in the middle of the deck.

"Told you," said T.J. with a smile. "Captain doesn't want to be disturbed."

"I don't give a fuck what he wants," Frank spat back, but he did not make another move to stand. He lay on the floor on all fours completely spent from trying to outrun the pair of ghosts.

Gunderson rubbed his chin. "Maybe we could check on them, just in case."

"Just in case what, exactly?" T.J. asked.

"I don't know. Maybe they didn't make it after all," the giant replied.

Frank looked at them in utter confusion. He hadn't expected the ghosts to act so naturally, so alive. Last time he had seen them, they had been little more than stone-faced apparitions, and now here they were, bickering and glaring at each other.

"We would know if they didn't make it. We are bound to them now, you oaf," T.J. rolled his eyes. "But maybe you are right. Judging by the state of this one, if they go another day without food, their bodies will begin to suffer." He nodded in Frank's direction as he said so, which made Frank's frown deepen and his stomach grumble loudly.

"Yes!" Frank suddenly spoke up. "I am terribly hungry and I feel faint and weak. I am lucky to have awoken now, but if your Captain does not wake soon, his body will go into starvation mode, and he will surely die of hunger soon enough!"

He knew this wasn't particularly the case, but he would try everything so long as he got close enough to Nico di Angelo, whether to take him hostage or not, he needed to gather any kind of information for the birds that were waiting for him below decks.

The ghosts were deep in thought for a moment, which struck Frank as odd, as he had expected their so-called connection to tell them whatever they needed to know.

"Frank Zhang is right," said T.J. with finality, raising an index finger to the sky. "We must check on Captain and Will."

With that, both of them turned to smoke and disappeared from deck, leaving Frank Zhang alone and dumbfounded. The pirate quickly got to his feet and ran in the direction of the cabin. He was elated when he was able to kick the door in without being stopped.

The door gave in easily and Frank strode in ready for a fight. He scanned the large room quickly, and found the Captain's berth in the far corner. He was not expecting to see a completely naked Nico di Angelo sprawled across William Solace's back, deeply asleep, his ghost hand resting on Solace's shoulder blade.

For the first time since he had laid eyes on him, Frank realized just how much Nico di Angelo looked like his half-sister Hazel Levesque, currently onboard the Argo II, waiting for Frank to return.

Or so she had said at the time, before exchanging a few furtive words of passion with him. But it wasn't just that memory that made Frank start to blush – a second glance towards the Captain's bed, the tangled sheets, the clothes on the floor – it was evident, if it hadn't been before, that William Solace and Nico di Angelo were lovers.

Frank closed his eyes and took a few steps back, until he collided with something hard. He turned around and spotted the Captain's worktable, strewn with maps.

"Shiver me –" he said, but quickly shut his mouth and began to commit the coordinates to memory, all the while the ghosts whispered a few words to their Captains.

By the time Frank had memorized what he had seen, he started to hear a few groggy sounds coming from the bed. He realized he did not want to be in the cabin when the two other living occupants awoke, and now that he had gathered enough evidence, he knew he didn't have to. He walked out of the cabin and then began to run back to his own berth.

He reached it with difficulty, as there were so many doors that remained shut to his touch. When he returned, only Argentum awaited him. Frank cursed inwardly. Aurum, the idiot one, had probably left the cabin of his own accord.

Pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, Frank took a deep breath and stretched out his arm, signaling Argentum to perch on his forearm.

The bird did so automatically, and Frank leaned in.

"Palermo, towards Greece."

Back in the Captain's lodgings, Will had woken up faster than Nico, who simply refused to get off his back. It took him two tries before he managed to successfully roll over and free himself from Nico's grasp, and by the time they had both woken up, the ghosts had left and began to see to their meals, which were to be taken to their cabins.

Nico lay naked on the bed, sprawled on his back like a lazy cat, resting his head on his left hand, while Will sat on the edge of the bed, dragging a hand through his tousled hair.

"I had the strangest dream," said Will, resting his elbows on his knees and letting his hair fall over his face.

"I can't say I envy you," said Nico, caressing Will's naked back with his ghost hand. "I had the best sleep I've had in years, not a single dream."

Will shook his head, trying to rid himself of the horrible images that plagued his dreams, trying to focus on Nico's touch instead, which felt warm in spite of it being his ghost hand.

"Will?" said Nico through a chuckle. "I've had a thought."

"Speak," Will prompted him.

Nico snorted then shook his head. "Food first, and a wash. Then maybe a quick blowjob, and then I'll be good to go."

Will chuckled and shook his head incredulously, all the while seriously considering Nico's proposition, drawing a hand across Nico's stomach.

"Food first," he said, and no sooner were the words out of his mouth than there was a knock on the door, and without waiting to be granted permission to enter, the door opened and their ghostly entourage walked in, each carrying a tray of food.

"God, yes," said Nico, jumping off the bed and quickly getting dressed in the clean clothes the ghost had set for them while they slept.

Will goggled the food with excitement bordering on anxiety. There were trays upon trays of fruits of the sea, everything from fish stews, a large assortment of crustaceans and a pile of oysters. Without bothering to put on a shirt, and as he was already wearing the same old breeches that he felt were now a part of his legs, he quickly got to his feet and sat down on the visitor's chair by the Captain's work table.

"Get us some wine too, will you?" said Nico, walking around Will, then stopping for a second to place a loud kiss on Will's naked shoulder before finally taking a seat on the Captain's chair.

"Got it right here, Captain," said Mallory Keen, twirling twice on the spot and procuring two dusty bottles of wine out of thin air.

"You, my dear woman, are an apparition," said Nico, reaching out for the bottle.

"I know I am," she said in a strong accent. "Although I don't know why."

Nico frowned in confusion, but the smell of food hit him smack on the face and completely forgot what he wanted to say. He was one second behind Will, who had already stuffed his mouth with a large lobster tail.

They ate in silence for a few minutes before either of them looked up from their plates. Keen stood next to Nico refilling his glass after every sip he took, and by the time Nico had taken a fourth sip of wine, the red liquid had started to overflow out of his only slightly cracked wine glass.

"Shlow down," he said through a mouthful of lobster. He washed it down with a sip of wine and quickly put his hand over the rim to stop Mallory Keen's ghost from refilling it yet again. "I'm not going anywhere, and you don't need to stand here at all times."

"Yes, Captain," she said, then proceeded to refill Will's overflowing glass.

Will laughed, spitting a few bits of lobster meat on the table.

"You don't have to do this for me either, Mallory. You've done great, you all have," he said looking around his ghostly posse. "I can't believe how delicious this meal is, thank you. It might be the hunger speaking, but I don't think I've ever had better seafood than this in my life."

The ghosts looked entirely too pleased with themselves, but it was Hearthstone and Blitzen who beamed the hardest.

"They want to say something," said Nico, pointing at the pair with a lobster claw.

Will turned and nodded once, prompting them to speak.

Hearth made a few complicated hand gestures, and both Will and Nico looked at Blitzen to translate for them.

"Hearth is excited to be back at sea," he explained simply.

"Is that all?" asked Will. It seemed to him that Hearthstone had said much more than that. "You may speak to your heart's content."

Then Blitzen began to describe, in painstaking detail, the experience it had been to dive into the sea, swim (or what passed for swimming in ghostly terms) around the area catching all sorts of marine creatures, then collecting salt from the sea water as well as making oil out of some fish, which he was proud to inform Will it normally took weeks, and they had managed to do so in a matter of hours. He would have been out of breath by the time he finished speaking if he had been a normal, breathing person. He did not once mention the fact that he was a ghost.

Will nodded alongside and smiled pleasantly, but to his side, Nico's frown deepened with every word that was spoken.

"You do know you're dead, right?" he said bluntly, which earned him a glare from Will.

"Nico, you're being horrible again," said the young merchant, but Nico merely shrugged.

"It's merely an observation. I've been around ghosts for quite some time now, Will, and I've never seen them behave the way this lot does. You've commanded them to be as alive as they can manage, but I'm curious to know if they themselves know they're dead. They've taken to their deaths entirely too well, it's simply alarming. They behave as if they were still alive, like they're on a ghostly holiday or something," Nico said, shaking his head sadly.

Will did not reply, but his chewing slowed down considerably after this remark. The ghosts had nothing to add to Nico's observation, they merely stood there, watching their Captain and Master devour their meals, until Nico had seemingly had enough of being observed and asked them (politely, at another glare from Will) to go check on the others and bring them some food.

"We could ask them," Will said after the ghosts had left.

Nico looked up from his bowl of fish stew. "Ask them what?"

"Ask them if they know they're dead?" Will reminded him, rolling his eyes.

Nico waved a hand dismissively.

"Of course they do, don't be silly. I was only jesting."

He tried to sound as confident as he could, but Nico had real doubts clouding his mind. If the ghosts no longer knew they were dead, or in some strange way, due to Will's phrasing of his command, were unable to recall that they had died, then… he shook his head and decided against dwelling too much on that particular thought.

They went through their plates at an alarming speed, and by the time they had finished, their stomachs bulging, both of them leaned heavily on their backrests, breathing with difficulty.

"You wanted to say something?" Will remembered, speaking slowly and feeling sluggish.

Nico chuckled, as if he'd only just recalled something funny.

"It's about your breeches, Mercer Solace," he said with a smile that he could barely control. "We need to do something about them. From what I could tell from our conversation with Fierro, you need to be wearing them, or they need to be on your person, for the powers of the curse to be channeled through you. This can only mean one thing, young Master."

"What?" Will frowned.

Nico broke into a wide smile. "That you've chosen those breeches as your treasure!" he yelled, putting his fist to his mouth and snickering nonstop.

Will looked down at his breeches. He had been wearing them since that night he woke up onboard the Charon for the first time, which had also been the same day he had been forced to abandon ship. They were exceptionally ordinary breeches, though they wre, admittedly, made of some sturdy material too because he still managed to wear them after everything they had been through.

"How did I make this my treasure?" he asked.

Nico chuckled louder this time, it took him a while to speak again.

"That's the fun part, you see. You must have somehow managed to put them in your mouth, and I can't picture you with a mouthful of breeches because I will vomit all my food and die laughing right now…" Nico replied, laughing madly.

Will's face reddened.

"I did… I did no such thing!" he complained.

It still took Nico a full minute to stop laughing and gather his breathing. Eventually, Nico got to his feet and walked around the table, pulling Will up by the wrist.

"Let's try something, then," he said, making Will gulp.

Nico pulled Will to the middle of the cabin, then stepped a few feet away from him. In order to test whether or not the breeches were the actual source of Will's newly gained powers, Nico suggested Will gave a few commands to the ghosts through their mental link.

Silently, at Nico's insistence, Will commanded Mallory Keen to bring them another bottle of wine. She did so immediately. Next, Nico told Will to remove his breeches and toss them at him.

"Why?" Will asked, suddenly embarrassed.

Nico rolled his eyes. "I've seen you naked, in case you've forgotten. I've even given you the best head of your life –"

"Nico!" Will hissed, his ears reddening.

"What?" Nico asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Was it not?"

Grudgingly, Will replied it had been so.

"So, what's the problem, then? Come on, take them off," Nico commanded, holding the bottle of wine and taking a swig as he took a seat on the large cushioned sofa in the back of the room.

Will's face was as red as Nico had ever seen it, but he complied slowly nonetheless.

In his hears raiding ports, Nico had once or twice indulged in the occasional dance from a random youth at pleasure houses, just for the sake of it, without ever going as far as intimacy unless it was initiated by them, and he never paid them for it, so strictly speaking, he wasn't a stranger to people undressing slowly before him.

Will doing so was an altogether different experience, and Nico felt himself getting excited instantly.

The breeches hit the floor silently, and Will picked them up, momentarily holding them over his crotch, before Nico made a motion with his hand.

"Toss them over," he said, his voice low and husky.

Will closed his eyes and took a deep breath. If it had been Nico personally helping him take his breeches off, he wouldn't have minded at all. The idea of doing it himself, in front of an audience though, that was an entirely new thing, and the shame he felt was only half of the excitement that coursed through his veins, and one third of the power with which his blood pumped into his cock.

Nico caught Will's breeches in his ghost hand, and he felt a ripple go through his entire arm at the contact.

"Whoah," he said, tearing his eyes away from Will for a moment and staring at the garment. "Will, I feel something," he said.

Will's eyes were resolutely closed when he whispered, "I do, too."

Nico flinched back then threw Will a quizzical look, then broke into a wide smile.

"No, you idiot. I mean, yes, I am loving this, but I meant to say, I feel some sort of power coming from the breeches," Nico explained.

Will peeked through half-opened eyes then reddened even further when he realized Nico had not been talking about the little show he had unknowingly put on for him.

"Nico!" Will complained, but Nico merely smiled and tossed Will's breeches to the other end of the couch.

"Give the ghosts a new command now," he advised. "See if you can communicate with them."

"Can I at least put on another pair of breeches? I don't want to call them in to do something and then have Mallory barge in and see me naked," Will complained.

"Why not? You're beautiful," Nico smiled, loving the way Will scrunched up his face and hid it in his palm. With his other hand, he covered as much as he could of his crotch.

"You're making fun of me," he mumbled.

Nico took another swig of wine. "Will, don't cover yourself."

"I'm embarrassed, this whole thing is embarrassing," he replied, his face still in his hands.

Nico sighed, and ran his ghost hand through his hair. He had been about to get up and gather Will into his arms when he had an idea. It was a strange idea if he ever had one, but it made sense to try. He stretched out his ghostly hand, then imagined it flying towards Will.

The hand did so automatically, floating away from him as if it had been nothing but a puff of smoke from his pipe, and made its way towards Will as steadily as if it had still been attached to Nico's arm.

Nico's face broke into a sharp grin, his eyes glittering with something like victory.

"Will," he said from his place on the couch, "look at me." His ghostly hand closed around Will's wrist and pulled his hand off his face.

Will opened his eyes and almost fell back on his ass when he saw Nico's disembodied ghostly hand floating over his face.

"What the –" he stammered, but caught himself right on time. "Nico, your hand!"

Nico smiled. "You've done me proud, Will. I am really, really going to enjoy this hand from now on," he said, just as his ghostly hand began to run a finger down Will's abdomen and give his cock a playful caress.

"Nico!"

Somewhere below decks, Magnus was having a rapid conversation in sign language with Hearth, while the rest of the ghosts simply hung out around the cabin. T.J. lay on Magnus's berth, one arm over his face. Mallory Keen sat on the floor tossing a cork back and forth. Gunderson stood with his back to the door looking bored. Blitzen followed Magnus and Hearth's conversation with rapt interest.

"No, no, that can't be it," Magnus said, drawing a hand through his hair in frustration. "Listen, Hearth. I don't care what your argument is, I saw what happened. How can you possibly not remember?"

"You just said listen, Hearth. Magnus, you know he's deaf," Blitz interjected.

"I know that! That's not what I…" Magnus replied, but he stopped short.

He had woken up to the smell of food and the five faces of his friends surrounding him sporting identical excited faces.

He had jumped a mile into the air and it had taken them a long time to calm him down and explain to him that everything was fine. The argument had not been resolved for as long as the conversation had lasted, even while Magnus ate, which he had started to do automatically. The facts remained unchanged: none of his friends, not even T.J. who Magnus considered the cleverest of the bunch, seemed to remember that they had all perished that day on the farm. His friends did not know they were dead, and no matter how much Magnus argued, they were still seemingly unaware of this crucial fact.

Mallory tossed the cork and disappeared into a gust of smoke, reappearing on the other side of the room and catching it.

"There!" Magnus jumped. "What did you just do?"

Mallory rolled her eyes at him.

"I'm playing, what? I can't play around because I'm a woman?" she replied scathingly.

"I need to speak to Ur- Will. I need to speak to Will. Or Nico. But I think I much rather speak to Will. Can you take me to his cabin?" Magnus asked, heading for the door.

The ghosts exchanged looks. They had not been ordered to detain Magnus in his cabin, nor were they forbidden to do as he asked.

"I should think so," replied Gunderson, stepping away from the door and pulling it open with a wave of his hand, which had Magnus stifling a scream and pointing a fist at him in frustration.

"That! How did you do that if you're not a ghost?" Magnus exclaimed.

Gunderson frowned. "You're touchy today. I've opened the door for you and that's all the thanks I get in return? Rude."

Magnus stomped out of his cabin while his ghostly friends walked behind him. It took him three wrong turns and a peek into the ship's bilges, which had him almost throwing up on the spot, before he asked the way.

"Should we check with the Captain if he's receiving visitors?" T.J. asked halfheartedly and at no one in particular, once they had reached the main deck.

"Nah," said Mallory Keen. "Magnus is not a danger. He said only if there's danger."

"Or a fire," Gunderson added helpfully. "Magnus is no fire."

"That's the door?" Magnus asked, ignoring their conversation. Without waiting for them to assent, he knocked on the cabin door and the door gave in automatically, its hinges previously broken by Frank Zhang.

Magnus stepped in and the ghosts followed him through the walls when he came to an abrupt halt.

William Solace lay completely naked on the floor, fighting against a ghostly white hand that was trying to ram a large bunch of fabric into his mouth. Nico, the Captain, sat on Will's legs, pinning them down while the other man tried to pry himself free.

"Uh…" Magnus stammered.

Nico and Will looked up.

"Top of the morning," said Nico, saluting with a handless arm.

Magnus took three steps back, then passed out from shock.

Will flinched and fought off Nico's ghost hand as easily as if it had been actual smoke, then removed the garment from his face.

"Nico! Look what you've done!" he said, getting to his feet and walking, stark-naked, towards Magnus.

"Nice," whispered Mallory Keen, giving Will a look from head to toes.

"Right?" said Nico, sitting comfortably on the floor while his ghost hand flew back into his wrist stump.

"Clothes!" Will commanded shrilly, expecting one of the ghosts to offer him something to wear or dress him up instantly, but they remained where they were. "Blitz, Hearth, can you get me some clothes?" he asked again.

"Uh, sure," said Blitz, then he walked to where Nico was sitting and very slowly, almost clumsily, returned with Will's breeches in his hands.

Nico frowned through the exchange.

"Wait," he said, getting to his feet. "Will, try that again. Blitz, don't give him the breeches just yet."

"Nico, you're not the one naked here, you don't know how embarrassing this is!" Will complained, reaching out for the pants, but Blitz pulled away just before he managed to snatch them back.

"Interesting," Nico offered, then looked directly at Will, rolling his eyes. "Fine, if that's what's bothering you…"

He undressed faster than anyone anticipated, tossing his shirt and breeches on the floor and standing naked in the middle of the cabin.

Will shook his head and rolled his eyes, the rest of the entourage merely nodded appreciatively.

"Double nice," Mallory offered, to which Nico bowed in response.

"This is insane!" Will said, trying to snatch his breeches from Blitz a second time and failing yet again.

"Command something," Nico said. "Ask them to do something they wouldn't do, that's how you'll know if you need the breeches on your person or not!" He took a few steps towards Will and pulled him away from the group.

Once they were a short distance away, Nico leaned in and whispered into Will's ear.

Will's face reddened, then shook his head.

"I don't want them to do that!" he said.

"Try," Nico whispered. "If they do it while you're away from the breeches, it means you can take them off, though they must remain close to you at all times, you won't need to wear them forever."

The idea appealed to Will enough for him to take a deep breath and turn to the ghosts.

"I command you all to take off your clothes," Will said, his face in his hand.

The response was loud and instantaneous.

"Sick!"

"I'm not doing that!"

"You have one messed up sense of humor, Will."

"Ye think a lady is going to just strip in a room full of oafs like yourselves?"

Will opened his eyes and looked at Nico, who frowned at the exchange.

"Blitz, toss me the breeches, please," Nico commanded. Blitz did as he was told and Nico's ghostly hand caught them in mid-air.

"Here," Nico said. "Grab onto them. Maybe you don't need to be wearing them, merely touching them."

Will did as he was told, then mentally commanded them again to take their clothes off.

This time, the response was instantaneous. Grudgingly, still complaining, the ghosts began to shred their layers, which disappeared into smoke instead of landing on the floor, until the last one of them had discarded their last item of clothing, and all seven of them stood naked in the cabin.

"Hah!" Nico yelled, punching the air. "It worked!"

Will looked around quickly then turned away from the ghosts. "Fine. You've proved your point. Can we all get dressed now?"

From the door came a sudden, strange voice.

"You're a sick man, Nico di Angelo. You're having an orgy with your ghosts?!" said Frank Zhang from the threshold.

Will snatched his breeches and hastily began to pull the on just as he mentally commanded the ghosts to redress and take Frank Zhang back into his cabin, while Nico howled himself hoarse with laughter.

He did not spot the brightly colored bird that had been perching on the Captain's windowsill, nor did anyone see it fly away.

Once the room had been vacated, and Will had commanded the ghosts to see to their living guests by taking them back to their cabins and making sure they remained there until they were called back, Will lay on the couch with an arm over his head.

"That was… wrong. So very wrong, on so many levels," he muttered.

"That was one of the best moments of my life," said Nico, taking a seat by Will's feet, then gathering Will's legs and placing them over his thighs.

"I will never live this down," Will said, kicking Nico on the leg.

"Hey, don't be like this. We've ascertained two important points here. One, the breeches are definitely your treasure. How we will get them into your mouth will be a matter for another day, but that one fact remains true. And second, you don't need to actually wear them. You just need to be touching them."

"Hah, and how is that better?" asked Will.

Nico began to draw his hands up and down Will's thighs.

"These things are falling apart," he commented, noticing the tears and holes that had appeared even after Fierro had so carefully mended them. "Let's ask the guys later, they might have some ideas. We could have them turned into something else. A nice bandana or a skirt."

Will lifted the arm that covered his face and threw Nico the dirtiest look he could muster.

"What?" Nico complained playfully, thumbing the area directly under Will's crotch. "You would look great in a skirt."

"You're making fun of me again," said Will, looking away.

In a second, Nico was on top of Will, straddling him at the waist.

"You need to stop doubting my word, William Solace," he said, leaning in and whispering into Will's ear. "I'm not used to that."

Will shivered when he felt Nico slightly grinding over him, rolling his hips just so. He wanted to argue back that he wasn't used to being ridden like this either, but he swallowed his words the moment he felt Nico's fingers over his nipple.

"Good news is," Nico whispered, licking the shell of Will's ear. "I don't need you to take off your breeches for what I have planned for you now. Well, you don't need to take them off entirely."

They were on the bed within seconds, and Will took a moment to mentally command the crew not to disturb them unless the ship was being boarded by pirates.

"Food, a wash, then a blowjob, you said," Will teased, pinning Nico to the bed and positioning himself between Nico's legs.

Nico smiled wickedly.

"Perhaps not in that particular order," he replied.

A few hours had elapsed when, several nautical miles away, a large black ship tore through the water at an alarming speed. Its black sails stretched thin against the wind, the hull groaning in complain, the Argo II sailed down the southern coast of Sardinia.

In his cabin, Captain Percy Jackson was having a meeting with his crewmembers, all of whom had several propositions as to the direction into which they should be sailing, and he was frankly fed up with everything. He had half a mind to call the meeting off when one of the crew on deck began to yell.

"Birds! Birds!" came the man's voice.

Percy was on his feet before any of his men, and within seconds, the entire crew of the Argo II was standing on deck, waiting for the birds to land.

"That's them, the beasts!" yelled Piper, pointing a finger in the direction of the creatures.

"We know they're there, we don't need you to point nothing out for us!" Leo Valdez retorted, elbowing Piper away from the front of the line.

"Arum? Argento?" said Reyna desperately, looking for her beloved pets, taking careful steps on the wooden crutches that had been fashioned for her to aid her walk.

"Silence!" roared Percy, stretching out an arm for the first bird to perch.

The bird made an exhausted sound, then landed carefully on Percy's arm. A second bird tore through the crowd, then landed on the floor, rolling a few times before it came to a full stop.

"That bird," muttered Jason Grace, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Get up here!" he commanded, and the bird clumsily flew to his arm.

"Speak," said Percy, and Arum opened his beak and spread his wings.

"Palermo, towards Greece! Palermo, towards Greece!" said the bird, and the entire crew broke into applause and curses.

Percy nodded approvingly, looking around to make contact with Annabeth Chase, who nodded once and quickly set to busy herself with the new coordinates.

"All hands on deck, to Palermo! Full speed!" Percy commanded, and a handful of the men began to rush to their positions.

The second bird, Arum, made a few noises, then spread his wings just as wide, only fluttering them about so strongly Jason's hat flew off his head.

"Argento!" Jason complained, but the bird's beak was open and he was squawking like mad.

"SICK MAN, NICO DI ANGELO, HAVING AN ORGY WITH YOUR GHOSTS! SICK MAN, NICO DI ANGELO, HAVING AN ORGY WITH YOUR GHOSTS!" the bird repeated.

The crew went completely silent.

Percy frowned, then looked around his closest crew members. Leo Valdez gaped openly, his eyes on the bird. Piper McLean smiled mysteriously, her eyes on Captain Jason Grace, who blushed bright red at her gaze, then quickly looked away. Hazel Levesque looked entirely puzzled, and was thusly the first to speak.

"Do you think he meant it in the Greek sense, or…?"