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.

1. Plots

The Curse of the Ghost Captain

CHAPTER 1

"The Plot"

It was a dark, moonless night over the Aegean Sea. The floorboards creaked under the heavy steps of the three pirates that walked onboard the opposite ship through a plank that connected the two sister ships – Argo II and Argo III. Hundreds of candles had been lit over the banisters of the Argo II, giving the deck a ghostly, otherworldly glow, further accentuated by the quivering shadows that danced across the floor, flickering with every gentle blow of the salty breeze.

"Captain Grace," said a deep, calm voice. "Captain Jackson awaits you in the mess hall."

"Have the others arrived?" Captain Jason Grace replied warily, looking around the seemingly empty deck, already suspicious as to the lack of ships around them, the isolation of their coordinates, dead in the middle of the sea.

His First Mate Reyna Ramirez Arellano stood silently by his side, perhaps a step closer than was strictly necessary, but he wasn't much annoyed by the protective gesture. To his left stood Octavian, sans-last-name, his third-in-command, whom Reyna had been grooming for months, and whose presence at important meetings had become increasingly common as of late.

"There are no others. Captain Jackson awaits you, and you only," the man replied, gesturing with a hand towards a door on the other side of the deck.

The mess hall was in fact the Captain's headquarters onboard the Argo II – a large, candle-lit room with a low ceiling, heavy satin drapes drawn over the windows and expensive Persian rugs that softened their every step.

A handsome mahogany table took over half of the room. Around it sat four people – five – now that the man that had escorted them into the room took his seat.

"Captain Grace," said a striking-looking man sitting in the place of honor, the one facing the door. He stood up and walked around the table, coming to a stop directly in front of Jason.

"Captain Jackson," said Jason, taking in the man before him through narrowed eyes.

Captain Perseus Jackson was shockingly handsome, young for a Captain, let alone a pirate. His sea-green eyes were bright and clear, his mouth thin and seductive. He had broad shoulders and a strong chin, always pointed upwards. He offered a hand and Jason took it.

"Jace," whispered Captain Jackson, suddenly pulling Jason into a hug and patting him heavily on the back. "It's been years."

Jason smiled and returned the favor.

"I'm here, Perce," Jason said. "Just like you asked."

"I'm so glad," Percy replied. He placed a hand on Jason's smaller back and guided him to the seat directly in front of his.

Reyna took a seat next to Jason while Octavian stood by the door, keeping guard, his hands on his pistol and sword respectively.

Jason glanced around the table, his eyes lingering momentarily on each of the faces that threw suspicious glances at him, all strangers, all suspicious-looking themselves.

"Introductions," Percy said, breaking the silence, his hands gesturing about. "This is my Quartermaster, Annabeth Chase."

A blonde woman with piercing, intelligent eyes nodded at Jason, and he nodded back.

"Leo Valdez, Sailing Master," continued Percy, motioning to a dark-skinned youth with long, messy locks of brown hair that obscured half of his face, perhaps a few years younger than him, who was cleaning his nails with a deadly-looking bronze scimitar. He didn't even look at Jason, only smiled insolently at his knife. Jason decided to keep an eye on him.

"Fai Zhang," said Percy.

"Frank," Fai Zhang interrupted.

He had been the one who led them into the mess hall. Under the glow of the candles, Frank Zhang cast an even more impressive figure than he had done in the semi-darkness of the deck. His muscles threatened to rip his soiled shirt apart with every flex of his arms.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Frank, he's our Gunner," continued Percy.

"Frank, it is," said Jason, inclining his head. Frank nodded gracefully.

"Next up is Mclean, Pipes?" said Percy, motioning to a girl two-seats down.

She looked up at Jason with eyes that shone like a cat's. For a second, Jason thought perhaps it had been a trick of the light, but no, her eyes were distinctively iridescent under the candlelight. She gave him a coy smile that set his teeth on edge. He would be keeping an eye on her, forget the man with the knife.

"Second Gunner," said Piper introducing herself. "Perhaps you've heard of my father, Captain Tristan Mclean?"

Jason's eyes widened, but he was quick to compose himself.

"Yes," he added, not wanting to give away how impressed he felt. "Fearsome Captain of the Soquili, the West Indies Stallion."

"That's my pa," said Piper with a smile. Her teeth were pearly white and straight.

"Enough," interrupted Percy. "Save it, for later," he commanded loudly, and Piper fell silent.

His Quartermaster, Chase, put a hand on Percy's leg in a not-so-discreet manner, and Percy settled back down. He took a deep breath and smiled.

"Last but not least, Hazel," said Percy, and Jason almost jumped as a girl emerged from the shadows behind the young Captain.

She was dark-skinned, short, and impressively beautiful. Her eyes were downcast, her hands folded over her lap.

"Captain Grace," she said in a strange accent – one Jason had never heard before. "I have heard so much about you."

Jason inclined his head, perturbed. There was something about her. Something familiar. Something wrong.

After a few seconds of silence, once Hazel had taken her seat, Jason spoke.

"Introductions are in order from my side as well. This is my First Mate – Quartermaster – as you would call it – Reyna Ramirez Arellano," Jason motioned towards Reyna, who nodded curtly.

Percy laughed and all eyes were suddenly on him

"Whatever happened to 'women onboard are bad omens'?" he asked. He sounded lighthearted, casual, as if they were sharing a joke over dinner in some brothel instead.

"I see no fewer than three women around this table," said Jason.

"Yes, but, you? If I remember correctly, that bunch of nonsense used to be your credo, dear Captain Grace," said Percy with an ironic smile, his eyes on Reyna.

In response, Reyna summoned a knife out of nowhere and stabbed the mahogany table so quickly and with such force that almost half of the blade lay buried in the wood before everyone but Percy, Jason and Hazel had drawn their own weapons.

"Where is that damn thing?" Reyna said playfully, getting up and searching her pockets, just as everyone awaited an order from their captains.

Jason glanced around the table. The Sailing Master, Leo Valdez, had his knife between his teeth and a gun pointed straight at Reyna's head. Annabeth's knife was out and held firmly in her right hand. Fei "Frank" Zhang's sword pointed at Reyna. Octavian had been quick with his weapons, his pistol pointed at Percy's chest.

"Oh, here it is," Reyna said, pulling out a pipe, tobacco and matches, and offering them to Jason.

Jason took his time lighting his pipe while Reyna took a seat next to him, seemingly collected and unbothered by the weapons pointed directly at her.

One by one, the others lowered their weapons and returned to their seats as Jason began to smoke his pipe.

"I'm only a woman," Reyna said ironically, pulling out the knife from the table and sashing it back in one quick movement. "I'm only here to carry his pipe."

There was silence for a few seconds, suddenly broken by the sound of clapping and Percy's laughter.

"I like her!" said the captain of the Argo II. "She looks feisty."

Jason made a grimace. He did not like Reyna being called 'feisty', and he did not like the fact that there were so many weapon-clad strangers joining them at their so-called 'secret meeting'.

"I am here, Perce. Shall we talk?" Jason said curtly, taking a drag from his pipe.

Percy's eyes turned icy on him, something Jason hadn't seen in years.

"Aye. Let's talk," said Percy, placing his elbows on the table and inching forward.

To Jason's surprise, Percy didn't look remotely handsome all of a sudden. There were dark bags under his eyes, his mouth was stretched thinner than ever, and deep wrinkles pulled at his forehead, making him look like a middle-aged man.

"We have to find him, Jace," Percy whispered.

"Find him?" Jason asked. "Find who?"

Percy looked at him for another second, then inched even closer.

"Nico," he whispered so softly Jason had to read his lips.

"Nico?" Jason asked loudly. "What, Nico, Nico? Di Angelo?"

Percy cursed and punched the table.

"Do not say that cursed name on my ship!" Percy hissed, his back hitting his chair, his fists shaking.

Annabeth Chase, the Quartermaster, leaned closer and whispered something into Percy's ear. Then, she motioned with a hand and Frank Zhang promptly placed a bottle and glasses on the table.

Percy took a full glass of the honey-colored substance and shrank back into his chair, breathing heavily.

Annabeth Chase offered a glass to Jason and Reyna, but they both declined.

"It's only rum," Chase clarified. "Not looking to poison one of the Captain's oldest friends."

Jason smiled and nodded.

"Not wanting to insult our host, I drink," Jason said, reaching for the glass. He could feel Percy's eyes on him and it pained him how disturbed his old friend looked all of a sudden. "To the Argos," he said, and everyone took their drink.

"To the Argos," they clamored and drank.

Reyna cast him a reproving glance, her glass untouched, but Jason ignored her.

"Percy," Jason said. "Tell me about Nico."

Leaning back on his chair, Percy's face was entirely cast in shadows, but as he inched forward again, and his face came back into the light, Jason saw his pallor had returned to normal – as if that dark, aged version of his childhood friend had been a figment of his imagination.

"Nico. Nico be… lost," Percy said.

Jason raised an eyebrow.

"Lost? Last time I heard, Nico di – Nico, was making a name for himself. They call him the Ghost Pirate or something –"

"Ghost Captain," Second Gunner Mclean interrupted, then fell back at the glare Percy cast her way.

"Yes, something like that," said Jason. "And last I heard, he was wreaking havoc across the Mediterranean, looting ships left and right. If you ask me, your mate's been having the time of his life, I don't see why that would require –"

"Nico be lost, Jace. Lost! Gone!" Percy interrupted loudly, his fist back on the table.

"How?" Jason asked just as loudly.

"Just listen to me, Jace," said Percy, taking a deep breath and gathering his composure. "He is not the Nico we once knew. He's changed."

There was silence in the room. Jason glanced around the table, his eyes taking in each of the attendants, who looked individually perturbed. Percy took a deep breath.

"Nico has recently come in possession of an item," Percy spoke softly. "An object of great value, great power. The whole 'Ghost Captain' title, there be reason he got that name, Jason, do you understand?"

Jason tried hard not to smile. Of course, he had heard the stories, but he was more inclined to think of them as gossip.

An unsinkable ship manned by undead souls, led by a mighty Captain with the power to summon the dead back into his service. But those were all stories, myths, most likely created by Nico himself.

"Come on, Perce," Jason said. "You can't possibly believe –"

"It's all true," said a quiet voice. Jason turned to see the girl named Hazel.

She looked at Jason with such intensity he felt his gaze anchored at her face. There was something about her face.

"Jason," Percy said. "Our parents were once friends onboard the Argo, the very first one. We go back a long way. I need you to trust me on this, Nico is dangerous."

"But dangerous how?" Jason asked, impatiently.

Percy took a deep breath and glanced around his crewmates. Jason was surprised to see nothing but iron-clad support and loyalty reflected in their eyes as they looked at their Captain, those who only a few minutes ago had been casting him, Jason, glances of utter distrust.

"Nico is carrying an object that gives him power beyond measure," Captain Perseus "Percy" Jackson said with conviction. "He's come across it only a few years ago and I've been desperately trying to track him down. This object threatens the safety of the entire Mediterranean, perhaps the whole world, pirates, privateers, merchants, the threat makes no distinctions. It must be taken from him, for all our sakes."

Jason closed his mouth, realizing he'd been gaping at him.

"What kind of object?" Jason asked.

The room remained in silence.

"We don't know," Percy replied through gritted teeth.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Jason laughed. "Then, how are we supposed to get it?"

"The idea is to capture him, Jace. We take him into custody and make him relinquish the object voluntarily, otherwise, it won't work."

"What won't work?" Jason asked, beginning to lose his patience. "Percy, you are asking me to help you hunt down one of our childhood friends over an object that might or might not be real or dangerous, and you're expecting him to turn it in on his own accord? What kind of leverage could you possibly have on him?"

"Me," said a quiet voice.

Jason turned to Hazel. He had only known it had been her speaking because of everyone's glances directed at her.

"And who are you again?" asked Jason impatiently.

"I'm Hazel Levesque," she said. "Nico's sister."

Jason gaped, disbelievingly, his eyes going from Hazel to Percy.

"Nico's sister is dead. You are not Bianca. Percy," Jason said, looking at Percy as if asking for help. "You remember Bianca, this isn't her!"

Percy stood up and the room went silent.

"I know this isn't B-Bianca," Percy said, his voice suddenly brittle.

"You're telling me Nico has, what, another sister? Are you even sure about this?" Jason asked.

And that's when he knew. When Hazel Levesque looked at him, Jason knew. He knew she was telling the truth, because the look she gave him, the shape of her face and chin were so reminiscent of Nico that there was not the shadow of a doubt, she was the splitting image of her brother – only female, and of a different pallor.

"We capture Nico, he is a danger to himself, to all of us," Percy spoke with all the strength of a man used to giving commands, never asking for favors. "We take the cursed object –"

"And what?" Jason cut in. "Use it ourselves? What does this thing do, anyway?"

Percy's lip curled, as if deigning the question insolent.

"The object Nico is carrying bares something more than unearthly power, Jace. For, yes, it awards the owner unspeakable power – power beyond our dreams, or worst nightmares. But there's more to it."

Percy stood up and began pacing around the room. As he walked behind his crewmembers, he traced his fingers over the backs of their chairs. When he reached Hazel, he laced his fingers into the curls of her hair, then let go just as quickly. He came to a stop just as he reached Jason's seat.

Jason turned to face him, and would have stood up so as to not be at a disadvantage, when Percy suddenly knelt down by his side and took his hands in his.

Jason was so taken aback he cast a look at Octavian, who promptly stiffened.

Then Percy inched closer, silently beckoning Jason to lean in.

He whispered something into his ear, and the more he spoke, the more Jason's shoulders tensed.

Suddenly, Jason's electric blue eyes widened. He flinched back and looked straight into Percy's eyes.

Percy's gaze was unwavering, dauntless. He squeezed Jason's hands tightly and suddenly there he was – that young boy with whom he, Jason, had spent years at sea, learning to man a ship, under the tutelage of their parents, blood-brothers at the time.

"Are – are you sure?" Jason stuttered.

Percy nodded.

"He must be stopped," he said.

Jason nodded slowly, incredulously.

"Alive?" Jason asked, hopefully.

Percy stood up quickly, dropping Jason's hands and walking back to his seat. He took another glass of rum before answering, his eyes never leaving Jason's.

"He must be stopped," he said.

Jason sighed. The ambiguous answer gave him all the information he needed to know, painful as it was.

"And his crew? Are they really –" Jason failed to complete the question.

To his surprise, it was Annabeth Chase, the Quartermaster, who stood up.

"We believe Nico has been trying to hide as of late. He's been spotted boarding random ships and stopping at every other dock. He doesn't seem to be captaining any ships as of late. We believe he is searching for something, and trying to go incognito," the blonde said with the commanding tones of a very seasoned Quartermaster, very much used to being in command. "As for his crew – they are not human. If Nico mans a ship, it must be taken down, no prisoners."

Jason wanted to laugh at the description of Nico's crew, but he decided to take it as hyperbole, and nodded gravely. He looked over at Reyna, whose eyes were fixed on Annabeth Chase with distaste. They would have to have a conversation once they returned to their ship, Jason knew for a fact.

"So, what do you want from me?" Jason asked lightheartedly. "I'm a pirate, Percy. The Argo III has been in the radar of most Empires for years now, you know this. Do you think I have any authority over –"

Percy suddenly silenced him with a hand, and Jason only stopped talking because of how utterly rude he found the gesture coming from his childhood friend, pirate or not.

He had been about to retort when Percy pulled out a leather-bound binder and threw it across the table.

Jason caught it with one hand and opened it for Reyna to see. He could sense Octavian leaning in behind him to take a peek as well.

"A letter of Marquee?" Jason asked, incredulously.

"A letter of Marquee, that be," added Percy, a smug smile on his face.

"How did you even get this?" Jason asked.

Percy shrugged, as if the question merited no response.

"This one's yours. We've been officially ordained by the Genoese Empire. Capture the Ghost Captain at all costs, and if The Charon ever dares to sail the Mediterranean –"

"T-the what?" Jason asked.

Percy smiled cruelly.

"His ship, The Charon, you didn't know what he christened his ship?" Percy asked acidly.

Jason shook his head.

"Well, now you know. The Charon, the boatman who carries souls into the Underworld. That's Nico now. Do not forget that. Do not, for a second, believe that you still know the boy he once was. Captain Grace, can I count on you?" Percy asked, and he was suddenly by Jason's side again, his hand outstretched.

Jason looked Percy up and down. Long gone was the scrawny, cheerful boy from their childhood, the one who dove into the sea to catch fish with his bare hands. The man before him embodied the picture of a pirate better than anyone he'd ever met – calculating, calloused, perhaps even cruel.

"You can count on me," Jason said, taking Percy's hand in his. "For Nico's sake."

If they were joining forces to capture their childhood friend, Jason would make sure it was he who did it. He would not have Nico manhandled by any of the present company, Percy included. Hell, Percy specifically.

Percy smiled a humorless smile.

"Of course," he said darkly. "For Nico's sake."

"All present," said Percy, reaching for a glass and raising it over his head. The honey-colored liquid cast a golden light over his face as he held it by the candlelit chandelier.

Everyone around, including Jason, Reyna and Octavian, raised a glass.

"We hereby swear a solemn oath to capture Nico d-di Angelo" Percy said, his voice soft but his gaze hard as stone as he took in everyone around the table. "I will hear an Aye."

"Aye!" said everyone around the table, some with more conviction than others.

Jason one of the latter. He drank, and the drink suddenly tasted foul, bitter and cursed.

"Man overboard!" yelled a voice over deck, making Will jump and knock over a bottle of ink directly over the letter he had been writing. The black ink had swallowed his carefully written words and half of the paper until Will righted up the little ink bottle.

"Man overboard!" repeated a chorus of voices, and Will could hear footsteps directly overhead rushing towards the main deck.

"Man overboard," Will repeated curiously, as he collected his affairs and replaced them back into his bag. He ran out the deck and followed the clamor of voices, which led him to the port side of the ship. These were words he had only started to learn a few months prior, when he'd finally taken to the seas.

"What is going on?" Will asked as soon as he reached the crowd, but found he needed no answers as he gazed down one of the stern ports and saw the figure of a man, or what appeared to be a man, seemingly unconscious and floating on a half-sunk chunk of wood, his legs still underwater.

A collective effort made by the crewmembers managed to anchor the piece of driftwood and harness it towards the ship. Will, one of the few onboard with something akin to a medical background, elbowed his way through the crowd.

"Let me through!" he commanded, a few of the men having recognized him opened the way for him until he reached the limp figure of the man they'd only just rescued.

"This man… he's been adrift! He didn't go overboard! He must have survived a shipwreck or something!" Will yelled into the crowd.

"He be lucky, this one!" said one of the crew to Will's right.

"Lucky! He be dead, inne?" another one spat.

Will reached out a hand and placed it on the man's neck, feeling for a pulse.

His own heart hammered against his ribcage as he caught signs of life.

"He's alive!" Will yelled with glee. He turned to the castaway, long locks of black hair that stuck to his face kept Will from seeing him clearly. He reached out and brushed his hair back, revealing the face of a young man of about his own age. This caught Will by surprise. He hadn't expected someone so young to survive a shipwreck, or was it always the young who survived shipwrecks?

Will placed a hand on the young man's chest and leaned in. The man had a heartbeat, alright, but it was weak and his breathing was labored.

"Take him into a cabin! He needs warming up!" Will yelled, gathering the man up alongside a few other crewmembers and leading him down to the cabins area.

"Here," Will offered, kicking open his own cabin and leading the men inside. "Lay him on the bed."

The two crewmembers looked at him with suspicious eyes, but Will promptly stared them down.

"This man could have a family, children! How would you like to be treated if you were the sole survivor of a shipwreck?" Will yelled at the men, who looked at each other for a second before quickly placing the unconscious, sopping man onto Will's berth.

"We'll let the Captain know!" said one of the men as he ran out of the cabin.

Will nodded and began to rip off the castaway's clothes.

"Help me!" Will yelled to the other man in the room. As if coming out of a trance, the other man began to help Will peel off the man's clothes, boots and weapons – a sword, two pistols, some soaked gunpowder.

"He won't be needing these no more," said the man, throwing the castaway's weapons aside.

Will stared down at the naked body of the young man. Cuts and slashes both old and new ran across his arms and chest. A nasty-looking piece of driftwood struck out of his thigh, as if he'd been pierced from behind. A few cuts and what looked like stab wounds continued to bleed now that he was out of the water, as if the salt had momentarily stopped them when he was floating on his own. He was pale as death, most likely due to loss of blood. Will was afraid of that, they didn't carry supplies to deal with that.

"Get the surgeon, fast!" Will yelled with all the authority he could muster.

The sailor stood rooted to the spot, his eyes on the castaway as if he were looking at a corpse. "Master Geerten remained behind when we reached Calvi, we weren't expecting to collect a man adrift –"

"Are you telling me there is no one on board who could help this man?" Will asked loudly.

The man shrank bank as Will yelled.

"If Mercer Solace would like to treat him, we can make all resources available. But Mercer Solace, there ain't no surgeon on board. If the man be close to death, let he be dead. We recovered a dead body, there be nothing more to it," the man said apologetically. Will's jaw fell open, his eyes suddenly fearful.

He looked down at the soaked youth before him, lying unconscious on his own berth, sticky with sea water and blood, hot with a fever.

He made a decision on the spot. This man would not die on his bed.

"Hot water!" Will yelled at the man. "Get me some hot water, spare cloth or canvas or whatever you have, and rum, or wine, some honey, and collect my samples bag from the Captain's cabin!"

"S-samples –"

"Yes, the bag of spices I presented the Captain upon my arrival! I need it!" Will yelled back, ripping a stretch of fabric from his own bed sheets and bunching them up to wipe the man's face.

"R-Right away," said the man, and promptly ran out of Will's cabin.

Will shook his head in disbelief. How could this be happening? It had been an extremely ordinary – bordering on boring – month, entirely uneventful and on schedule. Suddenly they pick up a man adrift?

A part of Will couldn't help but feel excited.

Just like those pirate stories he'd been told as a little kid, but he couldn't bring himself to be overexcited, for it this were indeed a shipwreck caused by a pirate attack, then they were not safe onboard the Apollon, not in these seas, not at this moment, not even if they were nothing more than a merchant ship. Heck, especially since they were nothing but a merchant ship, with no skilled fighters, no particularly powerful weapons, no surgeon onboard.

Will shook his head and focused on the man on his bed. He'd gently scrubbed off as much blood as he could, but the injuries would still need further treatment. He covered him with all the fabrics around his bed in an effort to keep the man warm until the supplies arrived. It was a hot day, yes, but the man's fever kept his skin cold and clammy.

He remembered he carried a handkerchief in his coat pocket. As he pulled it out and began rubbing the man's face, Will took in his features.

He was young, just about his age, as he had concluded upon first assessment, but he was also handsome, almost angelical. He had a pointed chin and chiseled cheeks. His eyebrows were dark as were his eyelashes. He was clean shaven, perhaps one of those hairless indians he'd only recently come across with, only no, he couldn't be, because his skin was alabaster white, his nose perfectly thin, his lips dark with cold. His body was lean and muscular, and also almost completely hairless if not for the soft tufts of dark hair under his arms and between his legs.

The young man suddenly stirred, his eyebrows knitting at the middle in a grimace of pain.

"Hey," Will said. "Hey, you are safe. You will live."

At the last few words, the man's eyes flew open, and he directed Will a look of utter despair.

"N-No!" the man yelled hoarsely. He grabbed for Will's coat and pulled him close, as Will imagined someone would do right before picking a fight with him.

"It's fine, you have nothing to fear," Will spoke soothingly, trying to pry the man's hands off his coat.

"I can't, I – I shouldn't be, I –" the man stammered, then his eyes fell upon his own hands. He let go of Will's coat and stared intently at his fingers in such a disbelieving manner Will had to count his fingers to see if one was missing. Ten fingers, all there. No serious external injuries on his hands or arms, as far as Will could see. So what was it that scared the man to the point of passing out?

"Hey," said Will, taking the man's hands in his own and rubbing them to produce warmth.

Then he felt a slight, hard protuberance. Will looked down between his hands and saw a large, silver ring on the man's middle finger. It was shaped like a skull, roughly shaped and heavy. Will made a motion to take it off but just as he did so, the man went practically berserk.

"No!" he yelled, prying his hands away from Will and rolling on the bed away from him.

"Hey, it's okay!" said Will, reaching out and placing a hand on the man's shoulder. "I won't take the ring from you. I understand what you've been through. But you need warming up."

"You should have let me die," the man whispered. Will barely caught the words, his grip tightening around the castaway's shoulder.

"Not an option," said Will after a few seconds of silence. "The day is much too beautiful for anyone to die. You've made it this far, let me help you."

The man laid there for what seemed like a long time, his back to Will.

Will's eyes never left the man's head, his long, dark locks spilling across his pillow. He had been about to reach out and touch him when he suddenly heard rushed footsteps in his direction. The cabin door opened and in walked the crewmember who had helped rescue the castaway, followed by Lee Fletcher, the Apollon's Captain.

Will stood up ceremoniously.

"Captain," he said with a nod.

The captain walked closer to the berth, carefully inspecting the newcomer from a distance.

"You said he was carrying weapons. Where are they?" the Captain asked sternly. He looked down at the corner of the small cabin, whereupon the items had been previously tossed, and picked them up one at a time, inspecting them with great care.

"Where is my bag with the samples?" Will asked, reaching out a hand to the crewmember who had brought back the supplies.

The man gave him the bag and Will began to go through it, pulling out vials after vials of unknown substances and powders until he came upon one he was looking for.

"He is still alive?" the Captain asked, stepping closer to where Will emptied a vial into his handkerchief, balling it and twisting it to make a satchel.

"Of course he is," Will replied. "He will live. He needs to warm up, and hot water. Where is that hot water I asked for?" he yelled almost desperately. The crewmember ran out of the room without waiting for further instructions.

"Do you know this man?" Captain Fletcher asked emotionlessly.

"No," Will replied quickly. "He's only just been pulled up by the crew. He's lucky to have survived."

"Indeed," said the Captain.

"He might not even make it, if he doesn't get the care he requires, but I've only just been informed there is no surgeon onboard your ship," said Will, careful to keep the accusation at bay.

"We are on a two-months voyage, Mercer Solace, going port to port. We were not expecting to pick up a castaway. Which brings me to my next point. We are to reach land in a few days' time. It will require time and care and resources to keep this man alive. We are not ready to provide such at our expense. It be best if we call in the priest, we are prepared to provide the last rites and a proper burial at sea. There is no need to bother yourself with these –"

"He will live," Will cut in. He only just became aware, as he gripped the man's shoulder, of the castaway's own pulse quickening at the Captain's words, as if he both feared and longed for a single command that would either end his life or throw him a lifeline.

Captain Fletcher looked at Will with concern.

"Then let it be so, at your own expense," he said. "If he be dead, you will not be held accountable. If he be to live, he will have you to thank." And with that, the Captain walked out of the cabin, just as a crewmember ran in with a bucket of hot water and spare canvas from the deck.

Will looked down at the man who still had his back to him. His breathing had calmed down, his hands protectively over his chest.

"You will live," Will whispered, dipping the satchel of spices into the hot water and placing it on top of the man's forehead. "My name is William Solace. I got you."

Will spent a further two days by the man's bedside. He'd woken him up a few times a day to press his soaked handkerchief against the man's lips in order for him to drink a few sips of water, and managed to get some stew into him twice a day. The rest of the time, he'd slept. He'd cleaned his wounds with a mixture of spices and rum, and bandaged them carefully, making sure to check for infection every few hours. He wasn't a surgeon, but Will knew what he was doing when it came to injuries.

Will was thoroughly exhausted by the third day, and was about to abandon the man's bedside to continue writing his letter to his mother when the man suddenly stirred awake on his own accord and called out for Will in the most unexpected way.

"Oi," he said quietly. "Oi, Solace."

Will stirred and straightened up from his chair, where he'd been sleeping for the past few days.

"Hey," Will said enthusiastically, dragging his chair closer to the bed. "How are you feeling?"

The young man held his arms crossed over his chest, his hands out of sight. His long, dark hair fell over his eyes, obscuring half of his face.

"Where are we? Where are you heading? What's your next destination? Who is Captain?" he asked without taking a breath, his voice still weak.

Will frowned but a smile tugged at his mouth.

"Listen to your voice, you could be a musician," he said, hoping to draw a smile from the man he'd been looking after for the last few days.

The young man made no response, just stared at Will intently.

"Uh," Will stammered. "You are onboard the Apollon, a merchant ship of the Genoese Indian Trading Company. Captain's name is Signore Lee Fletcher, recently married into Genoese nobility. We picked you up just out of Calvi, we are touching ports around Corsica for the time being, next stop is Bonifacio, only a few days' ahead. How are you feeling?"

The man took the information with apparently rapt attention, his eyes barely blinking.

"Who are you?" he suddenly asked, and Will's eyebrows raised in response.

"I'm Will. William Solace. I'm a merchant from Genoa. I – I've been taking care of you for the past few days I –"

"No, I know that," the man interrupted. "I meant, who are you?"

Will frowned at the question.

"I'm Will," he replied simply.

The man rolled his eyes at Will and sighed, then he suddenly reached out a hand.

"I am in your debt," he said. "William Solace. You saved my life."

Will blinked. He took the man's hand, which felt pleasantly warm and firm.

"Can I inquire as to who you are, or are you going to glare back at me until I shrivel up and die?" Will asked with a smile.

The man took a few seconds to reply, as if he were calculating his options.

"I'm Nico," he said curtly.

"Nico," Will repeated. "You got a last name?"

Nico looked at him sternly.

"Di Angelo," he said, holding Will's gaze as if waiting for a reaction.

"Nico di Angelo," said Will. "Genoese?" he asked.

Nico smiled sadly. "Venetian," he replied.

Will stiffened.

"Oh," he said uncomfortably.

Nico smirked, surprising Will, as if he found it funny rather than downright worrying.

"Y-You were uh, you were in a shipwreck. Where were you going? What was your ship's name?" Will asked, unsure of whether or not he wanted to hear the answer.

The young man took his time to reply. He toyed with the ring on his finger as if it were to give him answers.

"I don't remember," Nico said, casting a wary eye at Will. "And I would appreciate it if you kept my name between us, at least for the time being."

Will nodded, not entirely believing him. He knew enough now. He was Venetian, and it would be dangerous to divulge more information, considering how things stood between Genoa and Venice at the moment.

"Well, whatever happened, you are safe. We will be reaching land in a few days' time and you'll be able to send a letter to your family or –"

"Thank you," Nico interrupted, his eyes on his ring.

Will blinked again, surprised. It's not that he hadn't been expecting the stranger to thank him for saving his life, it's just that he hadn't expected the words to sound so much like a reproach.

"You are welcome?" Will replied, but it came out so much more like a question.

"What can I offer you?" Nico asked, taking Will by surprise all over again.

"What do you mean? Will asked.

Nico shrugged. "As a reward. Jewels? Bonds? Gold? You all take gold, why would I even ask."

"Hey," Will interrupted, his hands over his face. "I'm just a simple merchant, but I am an honest merchant. Yes, your recovery has been at my expense, but other than a few rolls of canvas and hot meals, there is nothing to repay. I was happy to have saved your life. I am, still, very glad I did. You owe me nothing. Okay, maybe perhaps a meal once we reach land, but other than that, I'm just so glad you're alive."

Nico di Angelo's eyes roamed across Will's face as if insects had been crawling all over him, a frown on his face.

"You just saved me, for nothing?" Nico asked.

Will shrugged. There it was again, the condescension, he wouldn't have any of that from the man whose life he had just saved.

"I will draft you a bill of your expenses as soon as we reach land," Will said. "And I do expect you to buy me a meal, once you've gotten your affairs in order, but otherwise yes, I saved you 'for nothing' as you just said. Like your life isn't priceless already, bugger."

It was Nico's turn to blink in surprise. He looked at Will as if he'd been looking at some recently discovered species, or a piece of freshly filleted fish. It was unexpected, and instantly refreshing to have a regular conversation like that.

"You're smiling," Will said, smiling widely himself.

Nico caught himself and quickly returned to his regular scowl. As if looking for something to do, he looked down at the clothes he was wearing.

"These aren't mine," he said, tugging at the large, puffed sleeved linen shirt.

Will nodded.

"It's one of mine, I'm sorry but we had to rip yours off, they were in tatters already. I'm sure you'll be able to find something you like in Bonifacio," Will said, getting up and ringing a bell.

"Solace, where are my breeches?" asked Nico, lifting the cover and staring at his naked legs.

Will bit his lip and cleared his throat.

"You have leg injuries that I needed to constantly clean to avoid infection, it was easier this way, if you'd been wearing breeches, I would have had to take them off and put them back on again and –"

"Alright, alright," Nico interrupted, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Just, get me a pair, or give me mine back, if you haven't shredded those too. I need to get up, being in bed is driving me insane."

There was a knock on the door and a sailor peeked in.

"You called, Mercer Solace?" he asked.

Will waved him off, "Never you mind. We are coming out, Signore here is due a walk around the ship that rescued him, make sure there is food and wine," he said, throwing a pair of black breeches to Nico and hitting him on the face.

"Grazie," said Nico sardonically, but with a hint of a smile.

They walked around the ship side by side. Will would point at a few of the rooms or wave at some of the crewmembers, who would wave back politely in turn.

"What are you, some kind of rich nobleman travelling incognito?" Nico asked, as they walked past a group of men who waved at Will as if they hadn't seen him in years, their voices full of excitement.

"Why do you say that?" Will asked. They reached the large common area below decks where the crew shared meals. Two hot plates of rich stew were placed before them, as was a dusty bottle of wine.

"Thank you, Ali," said Will.

"You'll like this one, Mercer Solace. It's from the mainland. None of these foreign things for you, sir," said the man just as he began to walk away.

Nico frowned and looked back and forth between Will and the man.

"Why do they treat you like some kind of prince? You say you're a merchant? How is that even possible?" Nico asked, taking the glass of wine Will offered him.

Will smiled and shrugged.

"I'm just nice. People like me, what can I say?"

Nico snorted. "There's no chance that's all there is to it," he said, downing his wine in one gulp.

"You need to take it easy on that, you can drink, just not too quickly," said Will, pouring Nico another glass.

As Nico took another, more measured sip, Will's eyes flew to the skull-shaped ring on his middle finger.

"That's an interesting piece of jewelry," said Will, nodding at Nico's hand. He remembered how protective he had been on the day he'd been rescued.

Nico's eyes remained on his stew, as did his mouth, which Will took as a signal not to ask more about the ring.

They ate quietly for a few minutes until their plates were clean. Will was glad to see that Nico's appetite was just as good as his, this was a good sign of his recovery.

"Now that you're recovered, I wonder if I could ask you a question," Will said.

Nico leaned in conspiratorially, pouring Will some more wine.

"No," he said in mock seriousness. "No, you may not."

Will took the bottle away from Nico so quickly he almost fell forwards on the table.

"You owe me, for saving your life," Will said.

Nico sighed.

"I have a feeling this bill of expenses for saving my life you spoke of just turned into blackmail and will keep getting longer and longer," he said, propping a foot on the bench.

Will smiled and said nothing, making Nico sigh louder.

"What do you want to know?" Nico asked as he rolled his eyes.

Will took his time before opening his mouth. He looked at Nico, leaning back against a wooden column, his shirt, open at the chest, a tad too large for him, his clavicle so protuberant and sharp Will would have been able to make a small pool if he poured water on it. His long hair fell over his eyes, and Will suddenly had the urge to pull it behind his ears.

He realized he could very much believe the gossip that was going about the ship, just by looking at him. Nico di Angelo did not look like anything other than a pirate, and thought that both excited him and terrified him.

"What really happened to you?" he asked. "Some of the men are saying you were in a pirate attack, some others are saying you yourself are a pirate, but you're not, are you? I mean, those weapons you were carrying, they're probably not even yours, are they?" he asked the questions in quick succession, unsure whether or not he wanted the truth.

Nico's eyes narrowed. He stared so intently at him that Will wanted to look away, but held his gaze nonetheless.

"What if I am?" Nico finally asked.

"What if you are?" Will repeated, then his eyes widened at the implication. "You're – you're –"

Nico started to laugh.

"You're ridiculous, mate. You look like you've seen a ghost," he said, clinking his glass against Will's and taking another sip of wine.

Will sat frozen for a few seconds before he joined in the laughter.

"You scared me there," he said, a hand over his heart.

"I'm going to be honest with you, because you saved my life," said Nico, his voice had taken that mysterious tone once again, making Will's hair stand on edge.

"Yes?" Will asked, inching in closer.

"I may have been many things, done many things that may or may not keep me up at night from time to time, but right now, I am just a traveler looking for safe passage to Sardinia. However, at the moment I'm not much thinking about it," he said.

Will blinked, his mouth slightly open.

"Wait, is that where you were going? Sardinia?" he asked.

Nico shrugged. "Like I said, right now, I'm not thinking about it."

"What are you thinking about then?"

Nico leaned in closer.

"You," he whispered, his eyes unreadable.

Will felt himself blush from head to foot, but he couldn't bring himself to look away from the man before him, and in that instant, he came to realize just how handsome Nico was.

"Me," Will stammered quietly. "Me?"

"You," Nico replied. "I'm wondering where you'll be sleeping, now that I'm up and I don't need you to check me out for infections, I will be taking over the cabin, savvy?"

Will instantly perked up.

"What do you mean, hey, that's my cabin, I –"

Nico stood up and began to walk away.

"Put it on my bill, I'll be sure to repay you, once we touch land," he said without looking back, waving his ring-finger hand absentmindedly in Will's direction.

Once back in the cabin, Nico's smile faded off his face. He headed to the window and drew the drapes, leaving the room in darkness. He reached for the oil lamp and lit it quickly, setting it on the desk whereupon he leaned heavily, his fingers in his hair.

He'd been having the same nightmare, over and over again, for the past three days and nights. It all felt like one endless moment, stretched to breaking point – that moment when the ship exploded just as he jumped into the sea.

He could still feel the piercing pain on his leg and his head.

His hand flew to his ring.

The damned thing seemed to mock him with its unblemished polished surface, the silver skull with its ironic, skeletal grin. Nico knew what the skull held within, now more than ever, he understood the power it contained.

And the curse it carried. He understood that too.

He looked at his fingernails, measuring the growth. It must have been five or six days since the explosion, which meant he must have drifted on his own for a day or two.

Nico sighed in exasperation. He was bad at dying, apparently, and not from lack of trying. He cursed and stood up, looking around the small cabin for something to toss, something to break.

His eyes suddenly fell upon an open leather bag. Solace's bag. Nico reached in and pulled out the first thing he found, a leather-bound notebook. He flipped through page after page of accounts, inventory, listing prices, contact addresses, then stopped when he reached the last few pages.

There were sketches of himself. He, Nico. Tiny, exquisitely drawn ink sketches of his face, his eyes closed, his expression serene. Nico frowned. He didn't think he looked much like that, but he could tell it was him – the hair, at least, was right.

William Solace, Nico thought, shaking his head. He'd been sketching Nico in his sleep, it appeared.

"What did the idiot say?" Nico asked himself, thinking back. "Something about my life being priceless. What a joke."

Feeling destructive, Nico began ripping off the pages where Will had carefully sketched him, balling them in his fists until they were almost munch, then, automatically placed them in the sash of his breeches. He threw the book back into the bag and kicked it closed. Then, he lay on the bed, his arms over his eyes.

"William Solace," he repeated quietly.

Under different circumstances, Nico might have bedded him already. He was, after all, a great admirer of members of his own sex, and Will Solace was, after all, a great beauty, Nico would have been blind not to see that. But the way he'd been running and hiding over the past few months left little time for recreational activities. Maybe he would, once they reached land. If they reached land.

Which took him to the most pressing matter at hand. He sat up on the bed and took a deep breath.

Looking at the ring, he made a fist and began to concentrate. His head suddenly felt like it was being split in half, but he did not falter, he did not stop. He focused all his energy in the little cabin, reading its history, understanding its past. He saw, as clear as if it were happening before him, a scene from the past, reenacted by vapor-like figures that were conjured out from between the floorboards.

Two men stumbling into the cabin, one of them hit the floor, the other pointed a gun at his chest. He shot, the man on the floor flinched violently, then dropped back on the floor, dead.

"Rise," Nico whispered, waving his hand and beckoning him close.

The ghost of the dead man perked up and got to his feet. He was translucent, almost invisible, but Nico could distinguish the emblem on the man's vest.

"Nombre?" Nico asked, recognizing the stitching of the Spanish crown on the man's clothes.

"Arturo Perez Grijalva Ponce de Leon," whispered the ghost in a voice so feeble it might have been made of smoke, just like himself.

Nico nodded.

"Yo soy del Angel," said Nico, and the ghost nodded gravely.

"Angel," the ghost repeated, understanding.

"You will scout for me now. Every room, every cabin, every nook. I want you up the mast at all times, until I call you back. Do so for me, and I shall release you from this hateful vessel where you lost your life. Do so for me, and I will allow you to hunt for the man who took your life," Nico spoke commandingly.

The ghost nodded and bowed.

"Sí, Angel," he said, standing his ground.

Nico rolled his eyes. "I dismiss you, go now," he said. Sometimes ghosts were slow and needed to be told exactly what to do, otherwise, they started taking small liberties here and there.

Nico fell back on the bed, completely exhausted. He would sleep now, his body was still weak from the explosion, and the power of the ring drained him much too quickly in this state. He would sleep now, and in two days' time, when they reached Bonifacio, he would see to William Solace.

And after that, he would see to Percy Jackson.

There was a knock on the door. Nico groaned and opened his eyes. The room was in total darkness, the lamp having long gone out. Another knock, louder this time.

"What?" Nico asked, sitting up and rubbing his temple.

"It's Will," said a voice from outside the cabin. "I need to check your leg, and I need my bag."

Nico groaned. "My leg is fine," he said.

"I'll still need my bag," said Will after a few seconds.

Nico stood up and unbolted the door.

Will's smile faded the second he looked at Nico's face.

"You don't look good," he said, pushing Nico into the room and pressing a hand to his forehead. "You've got a fever again," he declared.

"That's just normal temperature," Nico tried to argue back, but Will pushed him on the bed and forced him to lie back down.

"Maybe you shouldn't have had that much wine," Will said, sounding as if he were speaking to himself.

Nico tried to swap Will's hand away, but the man was strong, and Nico was weakened by the whole summoning of the Spanish spy-ghost. What was his name again? Arturo Perez Grijalva Ponce de Leon, Nico recited by memory.

As if summoned by magic, which of course, he had been, the pale figure of Arturo Perez Grijalva Ponce de Leon appeared in the middle of the room, directly behind William Solace, who had his back to him.

Nico paled and made a face at the ghost, silently telling him to piss off.

The ghost tilted his head, not understanding. He opened his mouth to speak but Nico cut in quickly.

"No need for that," he said loudly, making Will start.

"You don't have to yell, I'm just checking your pulse," Will said, placing a hand under Nico's jaw.

The ghost closed his mouth and looked curiously at Nico. He floated closer, his feet not having formed back entirely, and peeked over Will's shoulder.

Nico broke into a sweat.

"Your heartrate is really elevated," said Will conversationally. "You don't look all that well, take off your breeches, I need to check your leg for infection."

The ghost raised an eyebrow and Nico glared at him.

"I don't need you here right now," Nico hissed at the ghost, who shrugged and inched in closer, just as Will undid his sash.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, but I can't let you die, you owe me a meal and quite a few pieces of silver, if you really intend to keep my cabin," Will said, trying to pry Nico's hands off his sash in order to pull his breeches down.

Nico's eyes went from Will to the ghost, not knowing how to get himself out of this one. What would happen if Will saw the ghost standing just a breath away? He would surely scream, and being the fucking prince of the merchants, the entire crew would run into the cabin, and if he managed to dismiss the ghost on time, they would still have to explain the reason for Will losing his mind over an apparition, which would only cast more suspicion on him, and the last thing Nico needed was to draw more unwanted attention. If he didn't manage to dismiss the dim-witted ghost on time, well. He didn't want to think about that right now.

Just then, Arturo the ghost scratched his nose with his long nails, and as luck would have it, made a louder sound than when he actually spoke. Will stiffened and meant to turn his head when Nico suddenly yelled "Don't let him see you!"

Just on time, Arturo the ghost floated to the side, keeping himself outside of Will's line of vision.

Will raised an eyebrow and turned back to Nico.

"Who are you talking to?" he asked.

Nico swallowed.

"You?" he asked, making Will frown.

"You might be hallucinating, here, hold this for me," he said, pulling his bag on the bed and handing Nico vials after vials while he went through his stuff.

Arturo the ghost began to float higher over Will's head in order to peek into his bag.

Nico glared at him and hissed through gritted teeth.

"Get out, I'll call you back later," his voice barely above a whisper.

Will looked at Nico with a mixture of pity and concern.

"You poor soul," he said, making Nico grit his teeth. "I have just the thing for you," he said. He pulled out a corked glass vial containing a red powder. He uncorked it and placed it under Nico's nose.

Nico took an accidental whiff and the powder attacked his nose with the strength of a carriage-load of ground black pepper.

"Achoo!" Nico sneezed loudly, and Arturo the ghost imitated him in a feeble, wispy voice.

Will turned around instantly, standing up and holding out the vial of powder as if he were holding a vial of Greek fire.

"Who's there?" he asked, Arturo the ghost floating a little above him, directly behind Will's head.

Nico rubbed his nose, his eyes watering. The room began to spin around him, and all he could manage before he passed out was, "Arturo, no te dejes ver por nadie excepto yo, es una… una… una orden…" and with that, the world went black.

Will raised an eyebrow, looking around the room.

"Who are you talking to?" he asked loudly, his voice an octave higher, a ghost behind his head.

They reached Bonifacio right on schedule. It was a beautiful morning, the seas calm, the sun dazzling over the blue waters of the Mediterranean. As soon as they docked, William and Nico were the first ones out.

Over the last two days, they'd become more familiar with each other. Nico allowed Will to manhandle him from time to time, pulling him here and there, dipping his spoon in Nico's stew, which he had had enough of now, and sharing wine by drinking it straight from the bottle.

He'd learned that Will was in fact a simple merchant with one hell of a load of charisma. He came from a humble merchant family of English descent, and he was the first in a generation with dreams of one day owning his own vessel. He'd been accumulating a small fortune with his travels, establishing strong business relationships with people all around Genoa. He was now looking to expand into France, Spain and Portugal and eventually, England, which would bring him back to his origins.

Nico hadn't spoken much about himself, there was no way he could share without giving himself up and admitting fully to his piracy. He had admitted though, that he'd planned on going to Sardinia, and that he'd be looking for passage there once they reached Bonifacio. Will had looked sad when he told him, but Nico knew he would get over it. They would forget about each other sooner than expected, no matter how well they got on.

They were getting on so well, in fact, that when Will suggested sharing a bed, for sleeping purposes only, he clarified, tired as he was of sleeping on a hammock with the other crew members, Nico almost agreed.

Almost, and he was glad he hadn't, because there was no way he wouldn't have bedded him right there and then, and he wasn't much inclined to do so with a spying ghost roaming around the ship. The ghost, as it turned out, was a renegade gossip through and through.

He'd been having such an enjoyable time with Will that, for a day or two, Nico almost forgot about his troubles. Almost. For at night, Arturo Perez Grijalva Ponce de Leon, or as Nico took to calling him – Sneezy – would appear before Nico and recount all the scenes he had witnessed onboard the Apollon.

This is how Nico had learned of the Captain's hidden cargo – a dozen barrels of gunpowder – secretly stashed under the floorboards of his own personal cabin. No doubt earning a few extra dirty pieces of gold by doing some pirates a favor.

He'd also discovered two half-hearted discussions of mutiny onboard, which was stupid as they were a merchant ship, and mutiny would get them nowhere. Some idiots these days thought being a pirate was somehow exciting and threw the word mutiny about as if it toughened them up just to discuss it.

Sneezy had also recounted, to Nico's surprise, that no fewer than eighteen crewmembers were having sex with each other. And no, Will hadn't been one of them, he'd specifically asked Sneezy about that. He was gladder than ever that he hadn't decided to have sex with Will onboard and become just another statistic.

On a more worrisome note, Sneezy reported that he had spotted a black vessel hot on their trail. It kept a distance from them, but Sneezy assured him they were being followed.

"Mis ojos son buenos," he had stated, just as Nico questioned the veracity of his sightings.

If they indeed were being followed, then Nico would have no other option than to get off at the nearest port and switch ships, perhaps wonder the island for a few days, although Nico didn't do well on land. The sea was and had always been his one true calling.

They'd been walking around the small city of Bonifacio, a quaint little city with open markets left and right, when Will suddenly excused himself, telling Nico to meet back at the piazza in two hours.

Nico had wandered about on his own for a while when he decided there would be no better time than now for him to get some gold.

He stood by the fountain on the piazza, leaning lazily on the edge, just as the busy market people went about their business.

Nico made a fist with his ring hand, just as a large, red-nosed nobleman in a dusty wig walked about, waving his hand and pointing at random things to his attendants, who ran back and forth collecting the items for their master. He juggled a satin purse on one hand, and it clinked with the sound of more than a few pieces of what Nico assumed was gold.

The nobleman walked past him and directed a scathing look at Nico, as if he were offended by Nico's lack of possessions. He was still wearing the black breeches and white linen shirt Will had given him, and his own black leather boots. His hair fell over his shoulders, oily and disheveled. Will had assured him it suited him, and Nico agreed.

Nico followed the nobleman with his eyes. The man had walked across the piazza and taken a seat in a small courtyard, whereupon a table had been set for him to indulge in fruits, cheese and wine.

Nico smiled as he walked behind a building, his eyes on the nobleman. He took off his ring and held it up, the little skull face level with his eyes.

"Alright, Angelica," he said to the ring. "Let's get to work."

A second later, Nico was gone.

Will ran back to the piazza with a grin on his face. He looked around for Nico, whom he figured would have been waiting for him by the fountain, but he wasn't anywhere on sight.

"Signore?" said a small voice behind him. Will turned and saw a little boy of about eight tugging at his shirt. He pointed to the second-story balcony of a nearby inn, from where Nico raised a glass of wine at him.

"Join me?" Nico asked, loud enough for Will to hear.

Will grinned from ear to ear, gave the young boy a tiny piece of silver, and practically ran into the inn, almost tumbling up the stairs to where Nico awaited him.

The entire balcony was a private sitting area, complete with parasols, lounge chairs lined with blue velvet, and a table laden with all sorts of local delicacies. Sausages, cheese, jugs of wine, freshly baked bread and what looked like an entire glazed wild boar leg. Porcelain containers of soup were being brought up by a curvy serving maid, her breasts spilling out of her corset as much as the soup threatened to spill over the well-served rim of the bowls she carried.

"Whoah, what's all this?" Will asked, taking a seat next to Nico, who held up his glass like a count.

"Payment," Nico said. "For saving my life."

"Payment accepted," said Will, reaching out for a piece of bread and slathering it with soft cheese and freshly sliced figs.

"Now, I'll be wanting a look at that bill. I'm a man of my word, after all," said Nico.

Will chewed for a few seconds, swallowing a bit too fast and reaching out for a glass of wine to wash down the food.

"Bah," he said. "Forget about that, this meal more than covers it. By the way, how are you paying for this? You weren't carrying a purse when we rescued you." For a second, he looked suspiciously at Nico, who held his gaze with curiosity.

"I've got credit in Corsica," Nico replied nonchalantly.

"You do?" Will asked, impressed. "And you thought I was some sort of prince traveling incognito. I'm guessing that's what's going on with you, I'd say."

Nico smiled.

"Maybe," he said, picking up a grape and popping it in his mouth.

He looked at Will while he ate. They'd been surviving on weeks-old stew for the last few days, eating less and less with each passing meal, and now that they were finally eating fresh produce, Will's ravenous appetite had finally returned. He ate like food was meant to be destroyed. Nico found himself mesmerized by Will's energy and lust for life, and the way his jaw clenched with every bite, the way his strong hands ripped large pieces of bread.

With a smirk, Nico decided he would get Will really drunk tonight and take him back into the rooms he had rented at the inn with the stolen gold from the nobleman. There'd still be plenty left by the time he decided to leave and book passage into Sardinia. Whenever that would be. He intended on spending as much time as possible in those rooms with Will. He might as well eat up and gather up strength.

"Where did you go, by the way?" Nico asked after a few minutes of eating in silence.

Will grinned and almost choked.

"I've got great news!" he said, holding up his glass of wine. "I've talked to Captain Fletcher. He's agreed to make a stop on Sardinia next! As soon as we replenish our supplies, and the men have had a good couple of days rest on land, we're off!"

Nico stopped chewing. He swallowed hard, a frown on his face.

"Why would he do that?" he asked.

Will bit off a chunk of wild boar leg.

"Because I asked him to," he replied.

"Why did you ask him to?" Nico asked.

Will swallowed, his face falling slightly.

"Should I not have done that? Sorry, I wanted to help you," he said.

Nico suddenly leaned forward and took Will's hand.

"Listen, you've done enough for me. Honestly, you don't need to do anything more. I – listen Will, I don't think it's such a good idea for me to get back on the Apollon," he said, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of Will's hand.

Will set his wine glass back on the table.

"Why not?" he asked, sounding disappointed. "I thought, well. I thought we were getting on just fine? I mean. I'm sorry, maybe I'm overthinking things here –"

Nico tightened his grip on Will's hand.

"Trust me, I shouldn't board your ship again, it's for the best."

"But why?" Will asked, his chin raised, his eyes defiant, as if daring Nico to give him a legitimate reason why they shouldn't continue on their voyage together.

"It's dangerous," Nico spoke softly.

"Dangerous how?" Will harped on.

Because there is a fucking Pirate ship trailing after me, dumbass, Nico wanted to say. Instead, he pulled Will's hand to his mouth and planted a kiss on the tip of his fingers.

Will's lips parted in surprise, his blue eyes twinkling with excitement as he took in the sight of Nico's own lips wrapping around his index finger, his tongue licking tiny circles around the tip.

"Nico," Will whispered, his breath rattling.

Then suddenly, the distant sound of gunshots broke the silence. A few people inside the inn ran out the street, curious bystanders began to gather outside the shops, craning their necks for the source of the sound.

From the second-story balcony, Nico and Will had an excellent view over the lower rooftops of the surrounding buildings. In the distance, just at the dock where they had berthed the Apollon, another, much larger ship with black sails touched land.

Nico's face suddenly drained of color.

He recognized that ship.

"The Argo III," he gasped.

"The what?" Will asked beside him, craning his neck for a better view. "What? You can see that far? I don't see anything."

"Will," Nico said urgently, taking Will's hands. He reached into his sash and pulled out the satin purse he had taken from the rich nobleman. He opened it and took two pieces of gold, then emptied the rest over Will's outstretched hands.

"Wh – what the –" Will stammered, but Nico cut him short.

"Don't go back to the ship," Nico said, pulling out a pistol from under the chair. Will gaped at the object, his eyes wide and frightened.

"Where did you get that?" he asked, but Nico interrupted him.

"Take the gold, buy a horse and go inland, as far away as you can. Ride all day and find a place to spend the night. Don't stop, don't come back!"

He spoke frantically, his eyes cold, his grip tight.

"What do you mean don't come back, Nico, all my affairs are on that ship. My bills, my letters of identification, I can't just leave –"

"I'll make sure you get your things," he said urgently. He tugged on the tablecloth with one swift movement and the whole thing slid off, the items on the table untouched. He ripped a large piece and began stuffing food into it – cheese, bread and meat – making a knot at the top and tying the end to Will's sash.

"You are completely out of your mind, Nico," Will said with a smile that fooled no one. "You can't possibly expect –"

"Listen to me, William. Those are pirates, do you hear? Pirates! That is the crew of the Argo III, manned by Captain Jason Grace. You've heard of him, haven't you?" Nico asked, ripping up another piece of tablecloth and wrapping it around his forehead like a bandana.

Will stammered. He had heard of him. But he thought those had been legends, not real pirates! Not this day and age, and certainly not here!

"But, but," Will tried to speak but words failed him. Nico pulled him back into the inn and Will followed like a rag doll, his eyes on the tiny speck in the distance that Nico declared was a pirate ship.

"But if this is true then, then everyone here is in real danger! We can't just leave them, Nico, we can't! We need to warn them!"

"No!" Nico yelled, his hands on Will's shoulders. "If you start a panic, you won't get out of here, trust me, I've seen this happen. Your only chance is to leave now!"

"But what about you?" Will asked, pulling Nico back just as he started to walk away. Their conversation was quickly becoming a sort of tug of war.

"Don't worry about me," Nico said. "I've become quite good at escaping death, you, on the other hand, might not be so lucky. You understand what pirates do, right? You do understand what looting means?"

Will nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

"Then do as I say, please," Nico whispered. "And if they catch you, which they won't if you leave now, but if they do, remember," he said, leaning closer to Will until their chests touched. He looked up and pressed his lips to Will's. "You never met me."

Will closed his eyes for a second, his heart beating like mad at the feathery feel of Nico's lips against his. When he opened his eyes, Nico was gone.

"Nico?" Will asked, looking desperately around.

He had vanished into thin air.

Within minutes, the entire city was in a panic. Will had run out of the inn, the bundle of food hanging limply at his hip, hitting him on the butt with every step he took. He looked around the piazza for signs of Nico, just as panicked shop owners and townspeople ran left and right in a frenzy. Crying children were being dragged around by their parents, carts and horses were being loaded just as the sound of gunshots became louder and louder.

"Pirates!" was the frenzied cry echoing from mouth to mouth. Some people boarded up their doors and windows, but most of them ran to the hills. Some rode horses, some had oxen pull at their carts. One or two fancy carriages trampled past fresh produce that had been for sale on the piazza.

"NICO!" Will yelled desperately, trying to find the familiar mop of black hair. But of course, he'd be looking for a man with a white tablecloth bandana now.

Just then, a thunderous boom made everyone duck and cover their heads. A cannonball had struck the balcony where only a few minutes ago, Will and Nico had been sharing a meal. The entire thing came tumbling down, large blocks of rock fell upon the floor, cracking the stone like fault lines. The building caught on fire just as quickly, and if that hadn't started a panic, the approaching sound of gunshots and raucous laughter definitely did.

Too late. It was too late. The pirates had entered the city and by now, all roads out were probably blocked. Will looked around and jumped behind an old wooden cart that had toppled over. He squatted there in silence, alongside two men who had beat him to the hiding spot.

The pirates entered the piazza and Will held his breath.

They were walking leisurely about, kicking doors open to petrified screams and shooting their guns, whereupon the screams stopped.

A man walked ahead of the group. He had icy blonde hair and an equally fair beard, trimmed neatly close to the jawline, and a wispy mustache so white it looked like milk. His eyes were narrowed, his expression cruel and satisfied.

"Captain Jason Grace," Will whispered, and the man beside him elbowed him.

"Buongiorno, Bonifacio," said the man, his arms wide open, as if he were saluting a crowd and not an empty piazza around which people were hiding for their lives.

"My name is Octavian and I will be your pirate for this evening," he said with a mock salute. He took off his hat and waved it as he bowed. He snapped his fingers and a bulky man behind him produced a scroll from his sash.

Octavian unrolled it and began to read.

"In the name of Captain Jason Grace of the Argo III, we welcome you to this day of looting and overall destruction. We are looking forward to burning down your homes, raping your wives and daughters and taking your young sons for slaves. We will begin our entertainment shortly, but first, I will pose a question to all of you gathered around, and I expect a prompt and truthful answer," the man spoke loudly, clearly enjoying every second.

Will clenched his fists, he could hear the gentle weeping of women and children, trapped as they were, from their hideouts across the piazza.

"We have information that a fugitive of the law, a certain Nico di Angelo, renown albeit mediocre Pirate, former Captain of some ship or whatnot, has been sighted in your lovely, lovely town. He is of average height, scrawny and pale, with long black hair and a resting bitch face," he continued.

Will's eyes widened.

"Nico, what have you done?" he whispered, and the man next to him elbowed him harder.

"He has been reportedly traveling onboard the merchant ship, the Apollon, currently berthed at the docks since early this morning, and has not been seen onboard since. We have reason to believe he has come into town accompanied by a certain," Octavian cleared his throat, "William Solace, he is described as tall, blonde and apparently, dreamy, as per recent testimony of his crew members who may or may not have confessed under torture. Now, before we begin our looting, I must ask if anyone has seen a man of such description, I am prepared to offer a pardon, yes, ladies and gentlemen, you heard right, a full pardon, to anyone with information that leads to the capture of either of these two fugitives."

Will closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He wondered if he could wrap the tablecloth around his own head to hide the color of his hair.

And just as he found himself praying to a god he did not believe in, the man next to him spoke up.

"He is here!" he yelled, pointing directly at Will. "The man you seek, he is here!"

Will cursed at him and sprang to his feet, looking around for places to run, an open alleyway, a clear path – alas, he found all exits out of the piazza were blocked by murderous looking pirates loaded with weapons.

"Ah," said Octavian pleasantly. He took a few steps towards Will and snapped his fingers. Immediately, two pirates jumped at Will and pinned his arms behind his back.

"Ow, get off me! Get off me goddammit –" Will hissed, but the men pushed him down and he fell on his knees as easily as if his legs had been made of rubber.

"Lovely," said the Pirate, looking down at Will with a satisfied smirk. "Fits the description, gentlemen, please escort Mercer Solace back to the Apollon for questioning. The rest of you, you may begin the loot!"

A few pirates roared with approval, and the man that had given up Will spoke up.

"What about my pardon?" he asked loudly. "Am I free to go?"

Octavian turned on him, his eyes twinkling.

"Of course!" he said, pointing a gun at the man's face and shooting him point-blank.

Will gasped as some of the man's blood splattered his face.

"You are pardoned," said the pirate, cackling madly. "To the ship!" he said.

Will was unceremoniously dragged across the piazza, completely in shock. His legs began working automatically but the pirates kicked his legs from under him, seemingly preferring to drag him along the way.

Nico watched from the sidelines, invisible to everyone but himself. His fists were clenched in fury, his lip bleeding from where he had bit down, trying to stop himself from screaming. He watched as Will was kicked and dragged and abused back towards the Apollon. He watched as the pirates knocked down doors and broke windows and set houses on fire. He watched as older women and young girls were dragged into dark corners and he watched as the men, helplessly armed with nothing but their fists, tried to fight back.

He took a deep breath that rattled in his chest, his eyes bloodshot and moist with unshed tears of rage.

"If you're looking for the Ghost Captain," he hissed. "You've found him."

Nico ran behind Will, right past the Pirates that couldn't see him, and hid behind a half-destroyed wall. He spit out the ring he'd been holding in his mouth and held it firmly in his clenched fist.

"Rise," he commanded, looking around hundreds of souls that appeared from cracks in the stones around the cemetery before him, barely visible under the rays of the afternoon sun. Nico smiled darkly and turned back to the massacred bodies of the slain Corsican men and women, their blood freshly spilled over the stone floors of Bonifacio. "You too, my loves," he said.

As soon as they reached the Apollon, Will was thrown on deck, gagged and tied to a mast alongside the rest of the crew. He was bleeding from a nasty cut on his forehead and blood dripped into his eye. His knees were bleeding as well, and he might have sprained an ankle. But his injures were nothing compared to his crew members. On the floor next to him lay the corpse of Ali, their cook. He had been beaten to death by the looks of it.

Will's eyes were bright with tears, and as he blinked them back, blood ran down his left eye, trailing a path down his cheek, as if he were crying blood.

The pirates walked leisurely around the ship, taking their supplies onto their pirate ship through a plank that connected the decks.

They must have been at it for hours, and Will must have passed out for a while because when he came back to himself, the sun was about to set in the horizon. Candles and oil lamps were being lit, quite unnecessarily, as in the distance, the orange glow of the city on fire illuminated the Pirate flag as well as the dwindling sun in the distance.

So, this is how it ends, Will thought sadly. He thought about his family and how or when they would hear of his death. He thought of the last time he'd gone swimming. The last time he'd shared a bed with someone. He thought of Nico and how much he hoped he was safe.

He was a pirate, after all. Will knew this of course, but he hadn't really taken it seriously. He'd never seen a pirate before, only young men playing at it. He figured Nico had been one of them.

He didn't really hold a grudge against him. On the other hand, he sincerely hoped he had made it out alive.

Outrun these fuckers, Nico, he thought. Let them never catch you.

He thought of the kiss they had shared right before he disappeared, and for a second he even thought he'd imagined the whole thing. The pirates would come to interrogate him soon enough, he wondered why they hadn't done so yet. Then he heard the distinct sound of a sneeze right over his shoulder. He turned quickly, but the man tied to the mast next to him was passed out.

Will frowned, figuring he had hit his head a lot harder than he thought.

When the sun set, the night sky remained resolutely orange, illuminated by the fire that devoured the once beautiful Bonifacio. Will realized the deck was now silent, eerily so. Then he heard heavy footsteps echoing behind him and he turned his neck as far as it would go.

A lean figure stood there, silhouetted by the fire behind it. Suddenly, two tropical birds perched on the figure's shoulders, one at each side.

"William Solace, is it?" said a female voice that took Will by surprise.

"William Solace, is it?" repeated the red bird on her left side.

"William Solace, is it?" repeated the blue bird on her right.

"The Captain will see you now." With that, she conjured out a knife and cut the ropes that bind him in one swift movement.

Will didn't have the strength to pull himself up, so he raised his head and glared at the female pirate.

"Tell your Captain he can go to hell," Will spat.

"I can't tell him that," she said. "He'll have me reroute the ship for him. Now, now. Let's get you up."

With surprising gentleness, she hauled Will onto his feet and put his arm over her shoulder. The tropical birds flew up and perched back down directly on Will's arm, their claws digging into his skin, but he barely felt them, numb as he was.

It took two other pirates to haul him across the plank onto the pirate ship, and within seconds, he found himself unceremoniously thrown on a cushioned chair inside what must have been the Captain's own private accommodations.

Will didn't have much strength left in him, but his eyes devoured the room, looking for an exit he knew he would never reach.

He heard voices just outside the cabin, they were whispering, but Will managed to catch a few words.

"I do not remember ordering a massacre on this town," said one of the voices.

"You said, get information. Besides, they were fighting back. We had to." Will recognized the second voice, and hate filled his chest.

"We will talk about this later," said the more commanding voice. Then the door opened and a very good-looking man entered the cabin.

What was it with handsome pirates, Will wondered.

The man took off his hat and took a seat across the table from Will.

"Mercer Solace," he said. His voice was warm, calm, even soothing, but Will had nothing but the deepest loathing for him.

"Firstly, I must apologize for the way you've been treated," he said, his hands on his lap. "I assure you, this is not how we conduct business, and reparations will be in order."

Will laughed. "Reparations?" he asked mockingly, thinking of Ali's corpse.

"As far as reparations go, yes, I will arrange for something to be done. We will begin on salvaging the city –"

"What's left of it, you mean," Wil cut in.

The Captain nodded curtly.

"What's left of it, yes. Now, I understand you picked up a man at sea a few days ago, Mercer Solace. Is this the man?" he asked, and summoned an old painting from his coat pocket. It was small enough to fit on the palm of his hand, framed in gold. Nico's serious face looked back at him from the painting.

"Never seen him before in my life," Will replied dryly.

The Captain nodded.

"We have conflicting reports from your crewmembers, I'm afraid. Some of them have assured me, personally, that this man was picked up at sea, and that you, Mercer Solace, were personally in charge of his recovery. I understand you might have been, say, persuaded, not to speak of your encounter, but let me assure you, this is for your own safety. Nico di Angelo, as you may not know, is an extremely dangerous man, and we have been commissioned by the Genoese empire to capture him. For the sake of the noble people of Genoa, I'm sure you understand."

"He's dangerous?" Will snorted. "You pirates attacked and destroyed a city full of innocent people. Your idiot accomplice shot a man on the face after he'd traded me for a pardon. I saw your men raping women left and right as they dragged me back to the ship. You tell me now, who's the dangerous one? Who are the ones who need to be stopped?"

The Captain pinched the bridge of his nose, as if Will's words offended him.

"William," he said softly. "Would you believe me if I said those were never my intention? There has been a misunderstanding of my orders, and trust me when I say, there will be disciplinary consequences for those who carried out these atrocious crimes. We are pirates, aye, pillagers, aye, but we are not savage murderers."

Will laughed. "Aye," he said sardonically.

Then just as the Captain opened his mouth to retort, a scream just out the deck broke the silence.

"Captain!" yelled a man. "Captain, we are being attacked!"

Captain Jason Grace sprang to his feet, his hand flying to his sword.

"Mercer William," he said before walking out of the cabin. "You are free to leave. But remember, for your own safety, stay away from Nico di Angelo, if you ever do see him again," he said, walking out to the deck.

Will must have sat there for a few seconds when a gunshot went off nearby and he instinctively ducked for cover.

"Octavian!" yelled a voice – the Captain's voice, followed by a scream of rage.

"Captain!" screamed the female voice of the pirate that had untied him, and Will's curiosity got the best of him. He crawled to the nearest window and saw, horrified, the cruel pirate Octavian pointing a gun straight at the female pirate's chest. He shot and she fell right next to the Captain, who'd been shot in the leg.

"Reyna!" screamed the Captain, crawling to her side.

"Mutiny!" she screamed, blood spilling out her mouth. Her tropical birds flew towards Octavian and tried to claw his eyes out, but he hit one of them with the back of his gun and shot at the other, barely missing.

"Aurum, Argento!" yelled Captain Jason. "Go!" he yelled, and the birds took off immediately.

Will's eyes widened, he'd never seen anything so bizarre in his life.

And just as that thought crossed his mind, the cabin door flew open and Will jumped back, falling on his butt and taking cover behind a discarded boot, but nobody walked in. The door remained open, as if it had been kicked in by a strong wind.

But there was no wind.

Then, several things happened at once.

In the distance, the city, silent but for the sounds of distant wailing and falling trees, began to grow dark, as if the fires were being put out one at a time. Then, Will started to hear screams, shrill, horrified screams of men, distinctively male voices, and metal clanking against metal, as if a fight had broken out down on the dock. At the same time, Will looked out the window and saw the Octavian, the mutineer, craning his neck towards the Apollon's deck, where another fight seemed to have broken.

"Pirates!" he yelled, and blood-soaked pirates emerged onto the deck from several doors along the sides. "Go settle whatever is going on over there, take no prisoners, kill everyone on sight. Save the ship if you can but otherwise, do what you want. We have no further need for prisoners."

The pirates roared in approval and one by one ran through the plank, landing heavily on the deck of the Apollon and out of Will's line of sight.

"Quartermaster Peck," yelled Octavian, and a burly looking man stepped onto the deck. Octavian looked at Captain Jason with distaste. "That's right, we've got a new Quartermaster, did I fail to mention that? Oh, and just so it isn't clear, we have a new Captain." He strode forward and snatched Jason Grace's hat off his head.

"You villain," hissed Jason Grace, and Will felt a tang of pity for the fallen Captain.

"Peck, tie up our prisoners. We will have them walk the plank first thing tomorrow. I'm going to check on our informant, here," he said, his eyes suddenly finding Will's by the window, a cruel smile on his thin lips.

Will stumbled back, looking around for an exit, a window, a hidden door, and just as Octavian had been about to enter the cabin, someone screamed from the deck of the Apollon.

"He's here! He's here! Nico di Angelo is here!" came an unknown voice from the merchant ship.

Octavian had barely peeked into the cabin, his eyes on Will. His sneer widened as he pointed a gun at Will's head.

"Well, Mercer Solace," he said. "I suppose I don't have any further need for you. Thank you for your cooperation."

Will raised his hands over his face and closed his eyes.

And for the second time that day, Will heard a sneeze, only this time it came from behind Octavian. The mutineer turned on the spot, pointing the gun and shooting into thin air.

No. Not into thin air.

Before him stood a figure, or what should have been a figure, had it not been made out of what looked like solid vapor.

Octavian's scream echoed throughout the deck, louder than Will's own.

His eyes must have been playing tricks on him, or he really must have hit his head much, much harder than he had previously thought, because whatever stood before the mutineer was nothing short of a ghost.

A ghost.

A ghost.

Octavian dropped his gun and ran towards the plank, away form the ghost that stood his ground, no doubt looking to rejoin the comfort of normality as well as his mutineer crew members, currently battling onboard the Apollon. But battling who? A shiver ran down Will's back.

Then the ghost turned his face towards Will and Will almost passed out. He could see his face, his nose, his eyes. He had a missing tooth and wore the uniform of a naval officer. Silver blood soaked his front and dripped onto the floor, leaving not a stain but smoke that sizzled as soon as it touched the floorboards.

Will's closed his mouth and swallowed, wondering when he'd be able to wake up from this nightmare, when a hand closed in around his mouth, and a strong arm wrapped around him, pinning his elbows together.

Will screamed into the hand that covered his mouth and tried to break free of the embrace that was surely death, when a familiar voice whispered into his ear.

"It's me, Will," said Nico.

Will fought back out of sheer shock, and then turned his head just enough to see a mop of black hair spilling out of an improvised tablecloth bandana.

Nico let go of Will's mouth, bringing a finger up to his own lips.

"Nico?!" Will gasped. He hadn't meant to be quiet, he very much wanted to scream, but he felt winded, as if he had been punched in the gut by a very real ghost.

Nico smiled at him, drawing a hand over Will's bloodstained cheek.

"Wh – wha – what?" Will stammered, but Nico silenced him by putting his hand over Will's mouth.

Then he turned to the ghost who stood by the door, whose head was tilted in curiosity, as if he were taking a mental picture of the two of them entangled on the floor.

"Arturo," said Nico, his voice steady. "Who else is on this ship?"

The ghost evaporated as if he had been blown away by the breeze, then reappeared two seconds later, two steps away from where Will and Nico lay, making Will scream inwardly.

"Dos. Un hombre y una mujer," the ghost spoke and Will shook his head, wondering if the shock had made him forget how to understand language.

"Prisioneros?" Nico asked, and Will realized they weren't speaking English.

"Atados, heridos. La mujer morirá pronto," the ghost replied.

Nico nodded gravely.

"Nico, you speak Spanish?" Will asked, his mouth open.

Nico snorted. "Is this really what surprises you of this entire situation?" he asked.

Will made a conflicted movement between a nod and a shake of the head.

Nico smiled and stood up, helping Will up as he did so.

"Nico," Will stammered, finally finding his voice. "They said you were over there, Octavian he – that hateful pirate, he took over the ship, he organized a mutiny."

"I know," Nico said darkly, his eyes narrowing.

"But you aren't over there! So, who is?" he asked.

"My friends," Nico replied.

"Arturo," he spoke to the ghost. "Remove the plank that connects the two ships. I have a feeling those cowardly pirates will try to board back soon."

"Sí, Angel," said the ghost.

The ghost seemed to swim before Will's eyes, and it took him a second to understand what he was seeing. The ghost flew like a wave towards the plank, pushing it upwards precisely like a violent wave crashing against the hull of a ship, then the plank fell into the sea.

"This is too much," Will whispered, rubbing his eyes and feeling his legs begin to give way.

Nico caught him around the waist.

"Stay with me, it's almost over," he whispered, tightening his grip around Will's waist.

Will nodded numbly, and began to walk to the opposite side of the deck, to where Nico seemed to be directing them.

"The crew of the Apollon?" Nico asked the ghost as they walked.

"En el Puerto. Los vivos han escapado sanos y salvos," the ghost replied.

"Hold up," Will cut in. "Nico, what is he saying? Don't leave me like this, I need to know.

"He said the crew is safe. They've been freed and are safely on land," Nico translated.

"Then," Will stammered, his eyes on the opposite deck. "Then who are the pirates fighting?"

But he didn't need an answer. He could hear it for himself. The terrified screams of the fearless pirates told him everything he needed to know.

"They are fighting those they killed today," Nico replied in a low voice.

Will's mouth fell open.

"Arturo," said Nico. "I will ask one more thing of you. You know what to do. Wait for my signal. Once it's done, I release you from my service. You are free of the Apollon, free to chase after your own assassin."

The ghost nodded gravely and bowed, disappearing into a wisp of smoke.

Will began to shake in Nico's arms.

"What is he going to do?" Will whispered, his blood icy in his veins.

"Will," said Nico, turning to him, holding him in place with his hands on his arms. "You should go now. The ships will blow as soon as I give the order."

Will shook his head furiously.

"No! Why would you do that? There are men onboard," Will declared.

"Those pirates are better off dead than alive, you know that. You've seen what they can do. You've seen what they're capable of, if they go free."

Will considered this, and recalled the horrible scenes of the afternoon.

"What will you do?" Will asked.

Nico turned his face to the horizon.

"I will leave, too. My place is at sea. And there is someone I must find," Nico replied with sadness in his voice and only the tiniest hint of fear.

"Let me go with you," Will said, and the words were out of his mouth before he even considered what he was saying.

"No," Nico replied. "It's much too dangerous."

"Let me go with you!"

"You don't know what you're asking," said Nico shaking his head.

"Please," Will said, taking Nico's hands. "I've nowhere else to go."

"That's not true," said Nico, his thumb drawing circles over the back of Will's hand, the way he'd done so earlier that day, when the prospect of sex with Will had been the only thing in his mind. "You have the whole world at your disposal."

Will frowned and suddenly punched Nico on the shoulder.

"Ow!" Nico complained. "What was that for?"

"Don't patronize me! You take me with you, di Angelo. You've no idea how stubborn I can be, and I'm way scarier than a ghost when I'm mad. So, bollocks to all your talk about danger and let's blow these goddamn ships apart already!"

Nico blinked, staring at a whole new side of Will he had never seen before. Then he gave Will a mutinous grin.

"God you're cute. Alright, if you're so sure," Nico said. "There's something you should know. Come with me."

Will followed Nico below deck, where the betrayed Captain and his injured Quartermaster lay tied to a pole.

Before entering the cabin, Nico turned to Will.

"I need you to do something for me," Nico said.

"Name it," Will replied.

Nico took off his ring and raised before Will's eyes.

"I need you to put this in your mouth," he said.

Will blinked.

"You what?"

"Do you trust me?" Nico asked.

"Yes," Will replied in a heartbeat, which surprised him.

"Then put this godforsaken ring in your mouth."

Will frowned at Nico and took the ring from him, wondering just how completely insane he was and if, in retrospect, following a crazy ghost whisperer wasn't the best idea in the world.

"This ranks up on the list of weird things I've discovered about you in a single day, and that includes the Spanish," said Will, raising the ring as if making a toast and putting it in his mouth just as Nico grinned widely at him.

Then, Will was gone.

He looked down, and his body was gone. He knew he was there because, well, he was there, but he had become completely transparent. He almost swallowed the ring in surprise and promptly spat it back out.

Nico caught it and put it back into Will's mouth.

"I will explain, later. Now, I need you to stay quiet, don't make a sound, don't spit out the ring. Keep it in your mouth until I tell you it's okay. And if things go downhill from here, I need you to run back outside and jump into the sea," Nico commanded.

Will rolled his eyes but realized Nico couldn't see him.

"You're ridiculous," he said, and was surprised to discover he could speak normally.

"I want your word," said Nico, placing a hand over Will's invisible shoulder.

"You have my word," said Will, squeezing Nico's hand in return.

"Good," Nico said. "Let's go." Then he kicked the door in.

Jason's head bobbed up, his eyes widening as Nico strutted into the room, invisible Will closely behind.

The former Captain of the Argo III had been gagged and tied to a pole, his Quartermaster lay by his side in a puddle of her own blood.

"Nn!" Jason tried to speak through the gag.

"I got you," said Nico, pulling out a knife from his pocket and slashing through the gag, nipping Jason on the cheek as he did so.

"Nico!" Jason gasped. "What have you done?" he asked.

"What have I done?" Nico replied angrily. "This is all your doing, don't you dare pin this on me!"

"I never meant for any of this to happen, we've been betrayed!" Jason yelled hoarsely.

"Serves you right, drafting scumbags like that one over there," said Nico, nodding upwards.

"Nico, release me. Reyna, she's seriously hurt –"

"I will give you a single chance to save your life and your friend's," Nico cut in. "For the time when we were children, I am going to give you the benefit of the doubt. I have a feeling this wasn't your idea at all."

Jason looked down and Will was surprised to see shame in his eyes.

"No, Nico. I am going to give you one chance to save your life," said Jason, his eyes suddenly moist.

Nico laughed.

"What are you even talking about? You are at my mercy. The boats will explode with a single command, you've no allies left!" Nico said, waving his arms about the room.

"You'll find that's not true," whispered Jason, and as if on cue, Nico heard three heavy thuds over deck, as if three people had suddenly landed overhead, falling from a great height.

"Who's that?" Nico asked, his eyes widening with fear.

"The advance guard," Jason replied. "Give me the object, Nico. Give it to me and I will keep you safe. I will let you hide in the ship until the rest are gone. I don't think they will offer you the same deal. Their orders are to capture you. I just want the object."

Nico spat on the floor.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said, his eyes searching the room for the invisible figure he knew hid somewhere nearby.

"Go," Nico whispered, hoping Will could hear him. "Like you promised."

Jason looked around the room.

"Nico, stop pretending," Jason said with pity in his voice. "I've heard the rumors, I've heard the gossip you've started up. You can't possibly –"

"Captain Grace!" yelled a voice from the deck.

"Nico, please," Jason begged.

Nico took a few steps towards the door, hoping to god Will had left the room. Then, he threw one disgusted look at Jason.

"Go to hell," he said, then he raised his arms and said, "Arturo, ahora!"

Nico braced himself for the explosion he knew would occur any moment, hoping the force would shake the Argo III hard enough to distract the newcomers.

But nothing happened.

Nico looked around in shock.

"Arturo! AHORA!" he yelled once more, and again, nothing.

Jason looked at Nico with disbelief, as if it pained him that his childhood friend had lost his mind.

Then it hit him.

The ring.

He needed the ring to communicate with Arturo.

The godforsaken ring inside Will Solace's godforsaken mouth.

"WILL!" Nico screamed, running out of the room and up the stairs, hoping against hope that the idiot hadn't done exactly what Nico had told him to do.

When he reached the deck, he squinted at the brightness that attacked his irises. The Apollon was on fire. He could smell the distinct stench of burning flesh, canvas and wood. A giant black cloud of smoke erupted from the mast as fire engulfed it.

Once the fire reached the captain's headquarters, where the barrels of gunpowder were hidden, there would be no need for Arturo to light up the trail, the entire ship would go up in flames.

He looked around the deck for signs of an invisible man.

Then three figures jumped in front of him. He could only see their silhouettes against the backdrop of a ship on fire.

Two men and a woman, this much he knew.

Nico took a step back, just as the figures approached.

"Nico di Angelo," said a deep male voice. "In the name of Captain Perseus Jackson from the Argo II, you are hereby our prisoner." The threatening figure took measured steps in his direction, two blades, one at each hand, swayed at his sides, their pointy tips perfectly visible through the glow of the flames that illuminated the edges.

"Come quietly, and you will not be hurt," said a female voice next to him, two short blades in her hands, her eyes shining like a cat's.

"I can't quite make that promise," said the other male figure, a smaller one, with a strong Spanish accent, holding a scimitar and a gun.

Nico took another step back and he suddenly hit something. He frozen on the spot as Will's hands closed in around his waist.

"I got you," invisible Will whispered into his ear, the metal ring clinking against his molars.

Nico's hands found Will's and he laced their fingers together, just as the threatening silhouettes walked into the light.

Nico turned to them with a wicked smile, his black eyes reflecting the flames of the burning ship berthed next to them. With measured steps, Nico began to walk back towards the banister opposite the Apollon. The threatening pirates began closing in on them, careful to keep their distance, but ready to attack at any moment.

"You might want to reconsider your options," Nico said loudly. "Your mate Jason's downstairs, and I'm pretty sure Percy would have something to say if you let him die."

The smaller man snorted.

"We got the upper hand here, amigo," he said. "Surrender the object, no, you know what, screw that. Surrender yourself now or I will shoot your kneecap into pink mist."

Nico took another step back, feeling Will's invisible feet move alongside. They were almost at the banister now.

"Hold on to me, no matter what, don't let go," Nico whispered, careful not to move his lips too much.

"I won't," Will assured him, his grip tightening around Nico's waist.

"Too bad you're taking this position," Nico spoke to the pirates. "This will only end in your death. But I am merciful. I will give you until the count of three to save your lives, whether you chose to save your friend downstairs is up to you."

The pirates laughed humorlessly.

"Be reasonable, di Angelo," said the bulky man in the middle. "Our orders are to take you alive."

"Yeah?" said Nico. "Well, do me a favor then, if you ever see Percy again, I can't guarantee you will seeing as I've been counting in my mind and I'm already up to two, do give him a message for me."

Will's back hit the banister.

"Oh yeah, and what's that?" said the girl with a melodious voice.

"Tell him to go fuck himself. Three."

And he spun on his heels, clasping his hands over Will's face and tilting him forwards, prying his jaw down with his thumbs and devouring him in an open-mouthed kiss.

Will's invisible eyes widened as he felt Nico's tongue inside his mouth, feeling for the ring.

Then Nico disappeared as well. The pirates gasped and cursed, looking around the deck for an explanation.

And for a split second, Will and Nico's minds connected.

Will heard Nico's voice distinctively in his mind, as clearly as if he had been speaking next to him.

Arturo, NOW

Then, just as the Apollon exploded, Nico's put his arms around Will's neck, and instinctively, Will tightened his grasp around Nico's waist.

Sharing a mind, they leaned sideways and jumped overboard, just as a second explosion, a larger one, ripped the Apollon apart, and the fire engulfed the sails of the Argo III.

When they entered the water, the explosion pushed them further down, deeper into the icy confines of the Mediterranean. Will opened his eyes, it was bright as day in there, the fire of the explosion illuminating the depths so clearly, he could see the bottom.

They broke apart and Nico stuck his fingers into Will's mouth, pulling out the ring and placing it on his middle finger, then, motioning upwards, they began to kick in unison.

When they broke the surface, another explosion occurred, this time on the Argo II. It appeared the fire had reached their own stash of gunpowder. And just as Will began to swim away, he was suddenly pulled back into Nico, and once again, he felt his mouth invaded by someone else's, only this time, there was no ridiculous magical ring on the way. They kissed fiercely, their hands gripping at each other's, their feet kicking desperately, trying to keep themselves afloat.

When they parted, Nico's eyes were on fire, and Will's lips felt like they were burning.

"What –" Will stammered, completely winded. "What do we do now? We have no ship, we can't go on land, Nico what –"

"Don't worry," Nico said with a smirk. "I got my own ride."

Suddenly, Will's feet touched something hard. He looked down in shock to see a massive object, pearly white and ghostly, getting larger and larger beneath his feet. For a second Will thought of a whale, but they were so close to the shore there was no way. Then, he felt himself pulled upwards. His body left the water entirely and he held onto Nico for support as a gargantuan ship emerged from the sea, lifting them higher and higher over the surf.

Will yelped and stumbled over, sliding sideways as the ship began to right itself. Nico offered him a hand and Will took it. Together, they grabbed onto a rope that hung from the main mast as the entire ship spilled out of the water and landed softly down, rocking back and forth over the massive waves his appearance had created.

"This is impossible," Will gasped, letting go of Nico and stumbling to the banister.

The sight was one Will would never forget for as long as he lived.

The city of Bonifacio was destroyed, even though the fires had been put out, devastation surrounded the area. It's previously pristine white walls were charred and smoking, not a single tree seemed to have survived. Closer to them, the two ships lay engulfed in flames. A crowd of survivors from both the city and the crew of the Apollon gathered nearby, hugging each other and some of them screaming as a wave of what looked like white vapor glided over the deck of the Apollon, then floated onto the sea towards where Will and Nico stood.

Will gasped and took a step back, but Nico reached out a hand, keeping him beside him.

Hundreds of ghostly faces pertaining to hundreds of recently slain men and women floated next to the hull of Nico's ship, staring intently at their whisperer. Amongst them, at the very front, Will saw the face of Ali, and he stifled a sob.

"Brave souls of Bonifacio," said Nico with a sadness in his voice Will had not heard before. "I release you from my service. You have avenged your deaths. Go in peace."

In a second, the ghost turned into vapor and disappeared into the salty breeze.

Will shook his head incredulously.

"Nico, I don't know what to say, I –" he stammered.

"I'm sorry about your friend," Nico cut in.

Will nodded and put his arm around Nico's shoulders.

"I'm sorry about your ghost, what was his name? Arthur?"

Nico chuckled.

"He was just a restless soul, forever trapped in the place of his murder. He wasn't my ghost," he said.

"Je suis son fantome," said a ghostly voice behind them. Will turned and screamed at the figure of a decaying zombie wearing a tattered pirate coat and hat stared back at him.

Then, he passed out.

"Merde, Jules-Albert," said Nico, running a hand through his hair. "Regardez ce que tu as fait, you've scared him half to death!"

A few miles away from the burning ships, five figures emerged out of the water, clawing at the sand and toppling over as soon as their knees reached solid ground.

Their chests heaved and curses were repeated over and over again.

"That sneaky bastard," said Leo, taking off his shirt and squeezing out the water.

"What the hell was that about?" asked Piper, doing the same and getting looks from the male members of the entourage. "What?" she asked, her breast spilling halfway out of her corset.

"Reyna? Reyna, are you still with me?" Jason whispered desperately, once he had pulled out Reyna's pale body out of the water.

She looked half dead, and if she wasn't, it was certainly a matter of minutes. She looked like she had completely bled out.

"It's all my fault," said Jason as he caressed her face.

"Yep," said Leo. "I agree with you. This is all your fault."

Jason threw a death glare his way.

"Alright, mates. Calm down," interjected Frank, spitting out seaweed onto the sand.

"I'm with Leo," said Piper, pointing a finger at Jason. "You had one job!"

Jason opened his mouth to retort, but his eyes suddenly fell on a figure that stood just a little way inland.

"I take it you've failed," said Annabeth Chase, standing with her arms crossed over her chest, an elegant hat with a large feather adoring her crown of golden rivulets.

The three members of her crew stood up quickly, taking respectful stances.

"Frank, Leo," she said. "Take Reyna onboard, she might still be able to make it."

"Onboard what?" Leo asked insolently. "In case you haven't noticed, those tiny specks of light in the distance you see over there, that's the ship!"

Annabeth rolled his eyes. "Idiots," she said, nodding to the side.

The pirates gaped as a giant ship came into focus, berthed just further down the coast. The Argo II towered above them like some mythological monster, and just at the ship's end, silhouetted against the light of the Captain's cabin, stood the unmistakable figure of their Captain, Percy Jackson.

All pirates swallowed, knowing what expected them upon their return.

"Jason," said Annabeth gently, prying the man up. "You've had a rough night. Come along, the Captain wants a word."

Jason walked dejectedly behind Frank and Leo, who were carrying Reyna's limp body. He turned when he realized Annabeth wasn't following.

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

Annabeth raised her hat with the tip of her blade.

"Piper and I will go scouting for information," she said.

"What information, everyone's dead!" Piper replied.

Annabeth raised an eyebrow.

"I don't know about you, but I am much interested in finding out more about this character, what was his name again?"

As she spoke the last few words, two tropical birds appeared out of nowhere and perched themselves on Annabeth's shoulders.

"William Solace, is it?" crooned Aurum, the red bird.

"William Solace, is it?" repeated Argentum, the blue bird.

"Yes," said Annabeth with a cold smile. "That be it."