Hello my lovelies, I'm back with another chapter! Hope you guys read and enjoy, maybe leave a comment.

"Are you sure it's going to be here?" I asked a 15 year old Nate. We were standing outside the museum, a sign for a Francis Drake exhibit hanging about the door.

"Yes I'm sure. There was a picture of it in the brochure," Nate replied. "C'mon." We entered the museum, wandering through the exhibits. He practically had to drag me through the museum as I kept stopping to admire every display. "Alex, we don't have time to sightsee," he grumbled as he tugged me away from a set of cannons that had been found on the seafloor.

"But cannons, Nate!" I whined. Not finding what he was looking for on the ground floor, we moved to the second. I paused to read a plaque about an old diving suit while Nate continued to search.

"Alex, over here!" Nate whisper shouted. I wandered over to the display case he was standing in front of.

"Well I'll be damned," I said. In the case was the ring of Sir Francis Drake, inscribed with his motto 'Sic Parvis Magna'. Nate checked the lock on the case and muttered under his breath. Neither one of us knew how to pick locks. Next to the ring there was some kind of disk thing with a bunch of weird symbols. Nate must've thought it was important because he pulled out his notebook and began to sketch. While he was preoccupied, I kept an eye out for guards who might be getting suspicious. A somewhat grungy looking man walked into the room. He appeared around 40 with dark hair and a mustache. Normally, I wouldn't have paid him much mind, but his mannerisms seemed suspicious. He wandered around the room, occasionally glancing towards the display case Nate and I stood at. I gently nudged my best friend and tilted my head towards the man. Nate got the message. We moved away from the case, making it appear like we were interested in the other displays while keeping an eye on him. The man slowly made his way to the case with the ring. He stood to the side and discreetly jiggled something into the lock, it looked like an unmade key, then palmed it. He walked out of the museum and Nate and I moved to follow, but were caught by a couple of guards. We were dragged out of the museum and thrown onto the street.

"Pendejo!" (asshole!) Nate shouted at the guards as they left. I picked myself up, brushing off my shirt. "You okay?"

"Peachy," I grumbled.

"We gotta find that guy." I looked around and spotted the man who I had nicknamed 'mustache' at the end of the street. I nudged Nate and pointed. "Oh, there he is." We quickly followed him, making sure to hide whenever he stopped. We followed him all the way to a building. The sign above the door indicated it was a keymaker.

I tried the door. "Locked."

"Looks like he's going upstairs," Nate said. "Gonna have to find another way up." Using window ledges and air condition units, we climbed up to the second floor. Inside, the man was talking to someone.

"Hey, I don't want to rush you pal, but can you move it along? It's just that I got a lady waiting, you know how that is," mustache said. I grimaced. Eww. A minute later the guy held up a key. Mustache put it in his wallet and thanked the seller.

"We gotta get that wallet," Nate announced.

I glanced down and spotted a cop below. "I suggest we find another way to get down." We followed mustache through the city, keeping mostly to the rooftops to avoid any more cops. Mustache stopped outside a market, meeting up with a blonde haired woman. He swooped in and kissed her.

"Oh… who's your friend?" Nate wondered aloud.

"I think they're a bit more than friends," I commented. I wondered briefly if it felt weird being kissed by a man with a mustache. We followed the couple until they stopped at a small street bar. "Now's our chance."

"You're the better pickpocket," Nate said, gesturing to the couple.

"But now's your chance to put the skills I taught you to the test," I told him. "Besides, you realize my 'better' pickpocketing skills are the reason I met you."

"Fine." Nate slowly casually walked over to the man. I continued walking, trying not to show my nervousness as Nate obviously, at least to me, nicked the wallet from the man's back pocket while he was distracted by his lady friend. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. Nate rejoined me and we power walked around the corner.

"Alright, next time, I make the lift," I declared as we broke into a jog. "You really need to work on oof - !" I collided with someone and would have fallen over if the person I had bumped into hadn't grabbed my arm. I looked up, my eyes widening as I realized who had just bumped into.

"¡Déjala ir, viejo!" (Let her go, old man!) Nate shouted in Spanish, tugging on mustache's arm.

Mustache merely raised a brow. "Let's try that again."

"Let her go!" Nate repeated in English.

"Ah, that's what I thought. Now don't try to run," mustache warned. He released my arm and I backed up a couple steps, but didn't take off. "You two are a long way from home, kids."

"Don't call us that," Nate said stiffly.

"Parents must be worried about you."

Nate scoffed. "Yeah, not likely." I cast a sympathetic glance at Nate out of the corner of my eye. Nate's parents had always been a touchy subject. I had tried asking about them once only for him to quickly change the subject. I figured it was something he would talk to be about when he was ready, if ever.

Mustache turned to me. "What about you, sweetheart?"

I shook my head and crossed my arms. "I'm old enough to take care of myself." I highly doubted the foster family I had been entrusted to had even cared enough to go looking for me when I ran away a year and a half ago.

The man nodded, seeming to realize he wasn't going to get anything from us. "Okay - sore subject." He changed tactics. "That was a nice lift back there. You're pretty good."

"I don't know what you're talking about, old man," Nate deflected.

"Hey, don't call me that," mustache said. "Your technique is really sloppy, though. You're telegraphing all your moves." Nate glanced at me and I gave a minute shrug. While he had certainly improved, he was still being kind of obvious, at least to someone who knew what to look for.

Nate sized the man up. "You're crazy."

Mustache raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? You two have been tailing me all over town. Probably figured me for an easy mark." As he spoke Nate and I had slowly circled around to the other side of the alley. "But you picked the wrong guy, pal." Nate grabbed my hand and started pulling me away. "Ah ah."

"What?" Nate asked irritatedly.

"My wallet," the man said, holding out his hand expectantly. Nate let go of my hand and placed his hands on his hips. "Fine, maybe we'll just call the police."

I smirked. "No one's stopping you, but word of advice, they might wonder why a middle aged tourist is following young kids down alleyways."

The man chuckled, impressed. "You two are crafty little beggars, aren't you?"

"Crafty, maybe, but you don't see us begging, do you," I said. "Besides, I'm going to take a wild guess and say you don't like the cops any more than we do."

"Good point," the man conceded. Once again, Nate and I tried to walk away. "Kid. The wallet." Nate huffed a laugh and tossed the stolen wallet back to its persistent owner.

"Had to try," Nate said with a sweep of his arms. He grabbed my hand and pulled me down the alley at a jog.

Later that evening, Nate and I were crouched on the roof of a building across from the now closed museum. Nate twirled the key he had lifted from Mustache's wallet in his fingers.

"Telegraphing all my moves, huh?"

"Gotta say, I'm impressed," I admitted. "I didn't even see you lift the key. You're getting better." Nate grinned smugly at the praise. We made our way inside the museum via an open window on the roof. Seriously, who leaves their windows open, some weirdo could get in. We quickly found the case with Francis Drake's ring. Using the key, Nate opened the case and took out the ring. I watched him with a soft smile as he turned the ring in his fingers. He had been waiting to get this ring for a long while. The round disk with the strange symbols from earlier caught his attention and he picked it up. There was a small opening in the center, about the same size as the ring. Curious, Nate set the ring in the hole. The device immediately began to whir as the rings turned and shifted. "Ostia!" (wow) I whispered in awe.

"Damn it, kids…" Nate and I looked up to see mustache and his lady friend flanked by some suits. Nate quickly removed the ring from the device.

"Why, Victor - look who it is… the filthy little strays that made off with your wallet," the woman sneered. I pulled Nate towards the exit only to stop when I realized our way was blocked by more suits.

"C'mon, kids. You haven't got a chance. Just hand it over," the man, Victor pleaded. He actually looked sorry for us. Nate made no move to give up the device or ring. The woman snatched the device from his hand.

"Now - the ring," she demanded. If I had to take a guess, she probably didn't hear no often… or ever. I glanced nervously at Nate as he once again made no move. The woman snatched his other hand, only to find it empty.

Nate gave a smug smile. "What ring?" The woman gave a sinister laugh that made my insides churn. A resounding slap suddenly echoed through the museum. She had just hit him!

"Kathrine!" Victor exclaimed, seemingly startled by his companion's ruthlessness.

"Nate! Stai bene?" (Are you okay?) I asked my best friend, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Who do you think you are, boy?" Kathrine snarled. "You're nothing but a filthy, cast off little beggar. You're not fit to touch these objects."

I stepped in front of my best friend slightly, glowering at the blonde woman. "Lui è più degno di te, stronzo." (He's more worthy than you, asshole.) Though I doubted she understood what I said, the tone of my voice was enough to tell her it was an insult. Her face hardened and she raised her hand again. I flinched, but her arm was caught by Victor.

"What the hell you think you're doing?" He demanded. "They're just kids." I felt Nate grab my hand and together we bolted. As we ran, I could hear Kathrine yelling at her men to stop us.

We sprinted across the rooftops. How do we always get ourselves into this crap? And who on earth were these guys? I ducked as I heard a couple gunshots and let out a couple Italian curses. They're shooting at us now?! Along the way, I noticed Victor take out a few of the suits, but didn't really have the luxury to stop and ask why. I stumbled as I landed on the next rooftop, giving one of the suits enough time to grab my arm.

"Let her go!" Nate shouted as he shoved the man away from me. The suit lost his balance and fell off the roof with a surprised yelp. Nate stared over the edge and I quickly grabbed his hand, bringing his attention to me.

"We gotta keep moving!" He nodded and we ran. I skidded to a halt and Nate almost ran into me. My eyes darted around, scanning for any way out, but there were no rooftops to jump to.

"Look what we have here." Nate and I spun around to see another suit casually approaching. We were trapped. Nate snatched up the gun dropped by the suit he had pushed off the roof and pointed it at the man coming toward us. He held out his other arm, standing in front of me protectively. He backed up and tripped over his feet, knocking us both over. "Whoops. You all right?" The man asked casually as if he didn't have a gun pointed at two teenagers. "What are you shaking for?" He was right. Nate's hand holding the gun was shaking.

"Sparagli, Nate!" (Shoot him) I urged my best friend. Nate brought up his other hand to cup the gun. Still, he hesitated.

The man smiled as if trying to reassure us. "Just close your eyes. This won't hurt a bit." Yeah right. I flinched as I heard the gun fire, but it was not Nate or I who fell. The suit's smile slipped from his face as he collapsed. Standing behind him was Victor, revolver smoking.

Victor holstered his gun and slowly walked towards us. "C'mon." He pulled Nate to his feet, carefully taking the gun from him before helping me. "You're okay, kids." Nate and I glanced at each other with similar questioning looks.

A little while later Nate and I sat in a nearby bar conversing quietly in Italian while Victor ordered food.

"Non mi fido di lui," (I don't trust him) Nate whispered, eyeing the middle aged man at the bar.

"Ha salvato le nostre vite, Nate," (He saved our lives, Nate) I pointed out.

"Sembra sfuggente." (He looks shifty.)

I raised a brow. "E non lo facciamo?" (And we don't?) My best friend gave me an unimpressed look. I sighed, fingering my parents' rings that hung on a cord around my neck. "Senti, non sto dicendo che dovremmo fidarci di lui, sto solo dicendo che dovremmo dargli una possibilità." (Look, I'm not saying we should trust him, I'm just saying we should give him a chance.) We both stopped talking as Victor walked up, plates in hand and set them in front of us.

The middle aged man seemed to notice the tense atmosphere. "You can relax, kids - we're safe here," he assured us. He gestured to the food. "Go on." While Nate made no move, I gladly accepted the free meal. I slid one of the plates towards me and began chowing down. Nate continued to stare suspiciously at the man as I wolfed my food. Mustache, unbothered by Nate's gaze, shrugged. "Suit yourself, if you don't want it..." He reached out for the extra plate, but Nate grabbed it first, sliding it towards himself and picking up the fork. He seemed to expect this reaction and simply leaned back in his chair, pulling a cigar from his shirt pocket and lighting it.

"What'd you want from us?" Nate asked.

Mustache took a drag from his cigar. "A little gratitude would be nice. I did just save your asses back there." He snagged the beer Nate had been reaching for, forcing my friend to grab the soda instead.

"Oh yeah, fanks," I said through a mouthful of food.

"Thanks," Nate added. "But what's in it for you? I mean, you're a crook, right? You gotta have an angle."

Victor chuckled and shook his head in disbelief. "You are one piece of work, kid. What's your story, anyway?"

"Look, mister, no offense - but we don't even know you."

"Easily remedied, Victor Sullivan," mustache introduced, holding out his hand. Nate only glanced at the outstretched hand. "This would be the part where you introduce yourself." In answer, Nate took a bite of his meal. I might have answered, but my cheeks were packed full. "Okay, suppose you tell me what's so special about that ring." He gestured to Francis Drake's ring that now hung on a leather cord around Nate's neck.

Nate rolled the silver ring between his fingers. "It belongs in my family. I'm just taking it back."

"Passed down from Francis Drake himself," Sullivan said, sounding skeptical.

"That's right."

"I don't know how to break this to you, kid, but Drake didn't have any heirs. No children." I smiled at the smirk Nate wore. I already knew the story, for I had said the very same thing when I found out why he wanted the ring.

"Well, not with his wife back in England, anyway…"

Sullivan chuckled. "Okay, good point. Let me see it." He held out his hand for the ring. Nate jerked back, clutching the heirloom protectively. "C'mon kid - if I was gonna take it from you, I would've done it by now." I could tell he was still very reluctant to give up the ring, and with good reason. I wouldn't want to give up a priceless family heirloom to a guy who less than an hour before was trying to steal it, even if he did save our lives. However, the man had plenty of opportunities to take it from Nate and hadn't done so and I doubt the guy really cared about the history behind the ring. Nate glanced at me, silently asking my opinion. I jerked my head slightly in Sullivan's direction. He slipped the cord from his neck and set the ring in Sullivan's open hand. "Thank you." He examined the silver ring. "So what is this? 'Parvis M-'"

"Sic Parvis Magna," Nate interrupted. "It means 'greatness from small beginnings'. That was his motto."

Sullivan raised a brow, seeming more interested. "Yeah?"

Nate got up from his seat and walked around to stand next to Sullivan. "You see, Queen Elizabeth gave it to him in 1581, when he got back to England, after circumnavigating the globe. That's when she made him a knight." I smiled fondly, now eating at a more reasonable pace as he talked about the history of the ring. Over the year I had known him, I had discovered he always got this spark in his eye whenever he spoke about his passions, Francis Drake in particular.

"You sure as hell didn't learn that on the streets," the middle aged man said, giving my best friend an impressed look. "How's a kid your age know Latin?"

Nate shrugged nonchalantly. "The nuns sort of insisted on it."

"Ahh, so like a boarding school?" Nate side eyed me. I sent a small shrug as I took a swig from my own soda.

"That's a nice word for it."

"Okay, then," Sullivan said as he passed the ring back to Nate. "So what was all business with the ring and that astrolabe back there?"

"Why don't you tell us. You're the one working for 'em," Nate pointed out.

"Look, kid - a client wants something, I obtain it. For a price," Sullivan explained. "I don't ask any questions. It's just a job."

"Do you get that familiar with all your clients?" I asked with a cocked brow.

Sullivan shrugged. "Not usually, but I'm pretty sure I'm fired." He leaned back in his chair and took a swig from his beer. He looked like he was waiting for more of an explanation.

"Anyway, back to Drake. I was wondering about that astrolabe thing too," I said, turning to Nate. "What was that? It didn't seem like any astrolabe I have ever seen before."

Nate's smile was back. "That's because it wasn't an astrolabe. Check this out…" He pulled out his notebook and opened to the sketch I saw him doing earlier. "It's some sort of decoding device." He flipped a couple pages to a map. "On his way around the world, Drake sailed through the East Indies… Only he says that it took him six months to get from here to here." I frowned, checking out the map. That didn't seem right. If I remembered my history correctly, Francis Drake was a great sailor. There is no way that would have taken him that long to go such a short distance. Sullivan didn't seem to understand what Nate was getting at as he glanced at Nate questioningly.

"Yeah, so?"

"So it doesn't add up. He was way too good a sailor for that. It would have taken him a month, tops," Nate explained excitedly. "He was hiding something. Something big."

Sullivan raised a curious brow. "How big?"

"Like secret mission from the Queen big. Like millions in plundered treasure that hasn't ever been recovered, big." I let out a low whistle in awe. What a find that would be!

Sullivan grinned. "That big."

Nate nodded. "That big."

I flipped back a page in Nate's notebook and tapped the sketch of the device. "So this decoder thing has something to do with what Drake was doing all that time?"

"I would bet my life on it," Nate stated confidently.

"Oh, swell, and Marlowe's got it?" Sullivan sighed in frustration.

"Won't do her much good without the key." Nate held up the ring pointedly.

"So it's a stalemate, then," Sullivan realized

"For now," Nate conceded. He didn't sound all that concerned.

"So, you two still haven't told me what your names are."

"And you still haven't told us what you want from us," I countered.

"Okay, look - you two got talent. But you've got a lot to learn. You stick with me and I'll teach you a few things," Sullivan offered.

"Thanks, but we're doing just fine on our own," Nate declined.

"Yeah, clearly," Sullivan said with a skeptical look. "Whaddya say we try this again?" He held out his hand again. "My friends call me Sully." Nate glanced at me, silently asking my opinion. I'll admit, I was a bit skeptical about trusting a stranger, but we needed help. There were certain things made a lot easier with an adult around.

In answer, I reached out and shook Sully's hand. "Alexandria King, but I go by Alex." Sully raised a slight brow at my last name, but made no comment.

"Nathan Drake. Nate," Nate introduced as he too shook Sully's hand.

"Drake, huh? Okay." Sully grinned and stuck his cigar in his mouth. "I see great things in our future, kids. Great things."