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.

10. Lies

The Curse of the Ghost Captain

CHAPTER 10

"Truths"

When Captain Jason Grace woke up, all he knew was pain. His neck was stiff and refused to lift his head. He tried to move but quickly realized his hands were tied behind his back, which explained the burning on his wrists. He couldn't make out his surroundings, he couldn't to speak, all he achieved was to cause himself more pain as he tried to wiggle himself free.

Suddenly, he flinched and let out a gasp of surprise as cold water was splashed on his face. A few droplets trickled into his mouth and he licked his lips thirstily. Another splash, and this time, Jason's mouth was wide open and ready to receive the deliciously cold liquid. He heard voices around him, but he couldn't make out what they were saying.

A terrible screech suddenly broke through the room. Jason bolted upright, his head throbbing. It took him a second to realize it was a bird. He knew that bird.

Someone came into his line of vision, grabbing him by the hair and forcefully tilting his head back. Jason groaned, unable to fight back as his mouth was pried open and something bitter was poured down his throat. He tried to struggle against the intrusion, but not only were his hands tied behind his back, his midriff and legs were fastened to a chair that prevented him from so much as wiggling a toe.

"I wondered if I'd ever see you alive again." said a gruff voice nearby.

Jason knew who it was without needing to open his eyes, and the thought sent a chill down his spine. He looked up, coughing and spitting to rid his mouth of the foul taste. In the far corner, he spotted the bright plumage of one of Reyna's birds, pecking at the cage that held him captive. Then, his eyes found the man responsible, his hand strumming the metal railings of the cage as if it had been a lyre.

"Father," he said, his voice a low growl.

"Ganymede was sure you would die. Took you long enough to wake up. Ganymede, leave us."

Next to Jason stood the man who had poured the drink down his throat. He did not speak as he left, but gave Jason a look of deepest loathing as he disappeared behind the door.

It must have been years since he'd last been in this room, Jason realized. Ten? Fifteen? Twenty-odd years? He had not missed it. It looked almost entirely the same except for the distinct smell of mold that gave the place an air of neglect. He'd long suspected his father had given up piracy for a future in politics. Maybe he had… temporarily. Now, he was back and the seas were dangerous once again.

"W-why am I here? Why am I tied?" Jason demanded. How long had he been unconscious? A day? Two?

Captain Thunderbeard remained impassive. He was sitting in a magnificent throne-like chair with velvet cushions and a golden frame. He let out a ring of smoke from his pipe that hovered over to Jason and hit him directly in the face. Jason coughed as the foul smell attacked his nostrils.

"It is I who will be doing the questioning, savvy?"

Jason fought against his restraints. He felt sick but he wasn't sure why. The sensation was as sudden as it was powerful. His head was spinning, and he felt the immediate need to retch, even though there was nothing in his stomach but for the few droplets of water and the nasty drink that—

Jason bolted straight up. "What the bloody hell did you give me?"

He knew the answer before his father spoke, simply from the way he smiled and the cruelty in his eyes. He had never been given a truth serum before, but he knew of its effects. In a second, his vision became blurred, and he found it hard to concentrate. Against his better instincts, he tried to remember what had led to this moment. Immediately, he thought of Nico and Percy, and wondered if they were still alive, becoming more aware by the second that he stood no chance against betraying their secret.

"First question. Was Nico di Angelo on that ship?"

"Yesss," Jason replied, slurring the word. He remembered Nico clearly, looking very different from when he had seen him last. The serum muddled his thoughts. He stood no chance of withholding anything from his father.

"Was he injured?"

Jason shook his head in an attempt to clear it. Had he been injured?

"N-no, I… I don't think he was. He wasn't."

"Impossible. Think again. Think of his hand."

Jason blinked, then his eyes widened.

"His hand… he has a ghost hand. His hand isn't there."

Thunderbeard groaned impatiently, a dangerous sound that still had the same effect on Jason as when he had been just a boy.

"Perseus Jackson, then. Why was he there? What did they discuss?"

Jason closed his eyes. The room was spinning.

"The curse… something about the curse."

"The curse of Angelica," his father supplied.

"Yes. Angelica. The curse. They want to break it."

Thunderbeard laughed cruelly. "Tell me everything."

Unwillingly, Jason did as he was told. In the distance, he heard the bird screech.

Miles away, under the shade of a thicket of palm trees, Reyna Ramirez Arellano bit down on her leather belt as Leo Valdez redressed her leg wound. She hissed as the old, crusty bandage revealed her injury from two nights before, but was relieved to see no signs of infection. She tried to raise herself to take a better look. Leo had done a good job after all.

"Just stop moving, hermana. You're not making this any easier for me."

Reyna groaned.

"You won't be doing much walking, you're not. It's healing, but it's slow. Must suck to be you. First, shot in the stomach. Then, pierced by a wooden stake. You can't catch a break, can you—ouch!"

Reyna had tossed her boot at Leo and was glaring at him with such ferocious intensity she expected him to burst into flames any moment.

A sound in the distance caught her attention. There, by the surf, Nico di Angelo and Perseus Jackson—two of Reyna's least favorite people in the world—were engaged in swordplay. Their blades glinted in the sunlight, the sounds of metal on metal setting her teeth on edge. She hissed as Leo fastened the freshly washed wrapping around her leg. When she sensed he was done, she spat her belt out of her mouth.

"Explain something to me. How the fuck are those two up and about after that explosion?" she asked angrily. "Di Angelo drowned—twice, and Captain Jackson took two stakes to the thigh. How the hell are they even up?"

Leo looked over with a smile of admiration on his face.

"It's called being an absolute, fucking badass, if you must know."

Reyna rolled her eyes.

In the distance, Jackson parried Nico's attack, then lunged forward, touching the tip of his blade to Di Angelo's chest. Reyna heard the Ghost Captain curse loudly, toss his blade to the floor and begin stomping her way.

"Oh-uh. Here comes trouble," said Leo, getting up quickly. "I be checking up on our prisoners."

Reyna wished she could stand up. Nico Di Angelo was not good company. Especially not after losing a fight. She thought about pretending to be asleep, but knew from experience that the screaming match that was yet to come would be loud enough to wake the dead. Figuratively. But Nico di Angelo did not strike up a conversation. He merely sat down next to Reyna, picked up a bottle of rum and began to drink.

As expected, Captain Jackson followed, tossing Di Angelo's discarded blade on the sand next to where he sat.

"You're never gonna learn to fight with your left if you don't practice," Jackson chided.

Di Angelo glared at him. Reyna glanced at the stump on his right arm. He tried to cover it with his sleeve, but the thing kept riding up his arm and revealing the handless appendage. It had been eerie enough to see his ghost hand all those nights ago, but getting used to it had been easy. This pathetic stump, on the other hand, was not. Missing limbs had always been a particular peeve of Reyna's, more so when young sailors were involved. Nico di Angelo might have worked to build an image of ferocity around him, but nothing could mask his youth from her eyes.

"Where's Leo?" asked Captain Jackson. Looking around, he spotted him by the men they had tied to the palm trees.

After the explosion, two dinghies carrying five men had gone after them. They had been no match for Jackson. They hadn't been able to get a word out of them in the following days, but they hadn't really been trying either. Di Angelo had been sure of the identity of their attacker, which he did not disclose to anyone but his rival Captain. After that, it was as if Jackson had had no further need for information and decided to leave the men to die on their own.

Reyna had to acknowledge it. Captain Jackson was a fierce fighter. He'd taken the men at sea, one at a time, fishing them out of their boats like a fucking kraken in human form. He'd returned to land with the two men he had chosen not to kill in order to question them later, and all of their weapons. There had even been a few bottles of rum in the dinghies, which had come in handy when cleaning their wounds. That of course, was before Nico di Fucking Angelo had gotten to them. All in all, it was hard not to be impressed by Perseus Jackson, as annoying and full of himself as Reyna found him.

Nico di Angelo, on the other hand, showed a particularly different set of skills, besides his otherworldly resistance to alcohol. The night of the explosion, while Jackson went about binding men underwater, Di Angelo had stopped breathing. Reyna had been sure he was dead. He lay on the sand, his feet in the water, and his face had turned blue. Reyna had felt for his pulse and found none. Then all of a sudden, he was back, coughing and spitting out sea water, and getting to his feet as if he'd been but slapped across the face instead of given up for dead. His unearthly powers were gone, his ghosts were nowhere to be seen, and his ghost hand had completely disappeared. But he was alive, with a perfectly healed stump of a hand, when he should have been dead twice over.

Now, as she sat on the sand contemplating the young Captains before her, Reyna was not sure who was the deadliest of the two: the natural-born killer, of the one who would not die.

That first night, after Jackson had taken his prisoners and Nico di Angelo had resurrected, Reyna had been sure they would kill each other. They fought on the beach with their prisoners' swords with so much ferocity, yelled such angry words at each other, she had been certain at least one of them would die at the hands of the other. She passed out at some point, and when she came back to it, she began to register the most nonsensical, ridiculous exchange she'd ever heard. She honestly hoped it had all been a dream.

You will die for what you have done!

I am trying to help you!

You are trying to kill me!

I saved your life—twice!

Motherfucker, I can't die!

Then why are you accusing me of trying to kill you! Help, is what that be called!

Help yourself, to this!

Ouch, motherfu—Nico, that hurt!

Take that! And that!

Stop! Nico, that's my ear! Fucker, give me my earring back!

Come and get it, bastard!

I'm warning you, that's real gold!

As the hours passed, and Reyna lost and regained consciousness what felt like a thousand times, she realized they had settled down, no longer intent on killing each other.

Leo had confirmed this the next day—the Captains had reached a momentary truce. They had a truly common goal now: to retrieve their people. Then, if they didn't die trying, they would see to the curse. Reyna still couldn't believe there was such a thing—but she had seen it all. She had been rescued by a ghost, after all, before it disappeared.

Jackson took a seat as far away from Di Angelo as possible, then the two men began glaring daggers at each other.

Reyna wasn't sure how much more she could stand it. Despite said truce, which she still somewhat doubted it existed in the first place, they'd been at it for two whole days, bickering about absolutely everything—the birds, the ships—but above all, they fought about Bianca Di Angelo. Fucking Bianca Di Angelo, Reyna thought. If she so much as heard her name one more time—

"Bianca wouldn't have liked to see you give up like this, Nico," said Jackson, snatching the bottle away from the younger pirate.

"I told you not to speak her name again!"

Reyna rolled her eyes. She glanced over at Leo, who seemed to be having an excellent time trying to pry open a coconut against the palm tree where one of the prisoners was tied, dangerously close to the man's head. She wondered if the Captains would notice if she dragged herself over there.

"—Reyna?"

At the mention of her name, she turned. Jackson had been speaking to her.

"Apologies, Captain. I wasn't listening."

Jackson smiled. It wasn't the first time she'd thought him handsome, but the last two days had brought a change upon him that made him appear even more so. It was as if he relished the situation they were in. Despite his ship being gone, and his Quartermaster's disappearance, he seemed in good spirits half the fucking time. She wondered if it had something to do with the way he'd been getting on Di Angelo's nerves, who had become increasingly broody and ill-tempered the more Jackson appeared to enjoy himself.

"Your wound," he said, nodding at her leg.

"It's healing. Slow, but steady. No infection."

Jackson nodded appreciatively. "Aye, that's good. I need you up on your feet as soon as possible—two days tops. I'll get us a ship."

To her other side, Nico di Angelo snorted. Reyna took a deep breath, readying herself for the storm that was to come.

"And just where the fuck are you going to get one? Wait," he chuckled humorlessly, "where are you supposed to get the people to man it? And what then? Are you simply going to sail aimlessly in circles until you find the assholes who blew up my ship? Or those who took yours?"

Jackson's smile grew wider with every snide comment Di Angelo threw his way, which Reyna had learned to recognize as a sign of danger.

"You forget, little Nico, that I am a sailor, and I do not need a ghostly manned ship that can take me wherever I want. I know exactly where we are. You seem to forget, that I, unlike you, have perfect bearings at sea."

"And you, unlike me, have seaweed for a brain, you fucking asshole," Di Angelo spat back.

Reyna watched Jackson's smile fade off his face. They had stupid little pet names for each other that, whenever tossed, never failed to bring the other to the cusp of a violent reaction. Reyna sighed. Little Nico and Seaweed Brain sounded like they'd been thought up by children, and for all she knew, they had been. Both of them had known each other since they were kids, alongside Captain Grace.

She heaved a heavy sigh at the thought of her lost Captain. She had failed to save him for the second time, and worst of all—they'd been separated. They'd all been separated. Jackson and Chase, Di Angelo and Solace. Leo and… she blinked. Leo hadn't been particularly attached to anyone, at last no one she recalled. Lucky bastard.

She'd tuned out the Captains' bickering until both of them sprang up at the same time and lunged forwards, each intent on wringing the other's neck.

"I'll kill you!"

"You can try!"

"You'll never make it another day… say… goodbye… forever…"

"Not if you… die… first!"

"Santa Maria, for the love of God!" Reyna interjected. "Will you two stop fighting for two seconds?"

In the distance, Leo whistled. "Santa Maria! I was wondering when they'd finally get to you! Good to see you back, hermana!" he yelled. She could hear him slurping on his coconut and hated him for it.

Jackson laughed, and Di Angelo elbowed him in the stomach, winding him completely. The Ghost Captain got to his feet, grabbed the half-empty bottle of rum, and stomped away towards the surf. Reyna was glad to watch him go.

Jackson took a few seconds to collect himself, then sat up and took a cracked coconut from the pile. With Di Angelo gone, Leo was quick to return.

"That little bastard," Jackson said with an amused grimace. "He's got a strong elbow, alright."

Leo chuckled, then fell silent at the glare Reyna was giving him.

"I'll be needing you ready, ," said Jackson speaking directly to her, "in two-days' time. In the meantime, I need you to stay put. Keep an eye on that little asshole while we're gone."

Reyna sat up with difficulty, dread filling her heart. "What do you mean, keep an eye on him? W-where the fuck are you two going?"

Leo smiled his trademark sharp grin, and he and Jackson exchanged looks. She knew it. The sneaky bastards had been planning something behind her back.

"While you slept, which is often, Leo did some scouting. There's a fishing village in the vicinity. Just need you to be able to walk, then we're off. We need to give chase."

"We're going to give chase on a fishing boat? What kind of—"

"No," Jackson admonished her playfully, as if he'd been about to add a Little Reyna, which would have been the last words he ever uttered. "We just need to get to Corinth, then, they'll come find us. Just, don't tell Nico. I don't need his aggravation."

"Who?" Reyna asked, completely flabbergasted. "Who will come find us?"

Jackson smiled. "Why, my uncle, of course."

She watched them leave that very afternoon, armed to the teeth.

Nico di Angelo did not leave his seat by the surf all day. It wasn't until the moon was high upon the sky that he returned, carrying a couple of fish he had somehow procured. He busied himself building a small fire, then offered Reyna a skewered red porgy.

They did not exchange any words. She was still weak from her injury and, as Jackson had so eloquently put, slept often. Once or twice, she woke up and found Di Angelo sitting with his knees to his chest, his eyes on the fire. With Jackson gone, what little fight he'd had in him had all but disappeared. More than ever, he looked like just a young man, robbed of his future by a family curse. Lovesick, even. Little Nico, she thought curiously. She did not want to pity him, and yet she did.

The next morning, Little Nico was nowhere to be seen. Reyna spotted a large branch by her side. It had been hastily whittled into a makeshift walking stick. She got up with difficulty and proceeded to check on the prisoners. She had thought she'd find them dead, and was immensely surprised when she saw them sleeping rather soundly. Their straps had been slightly loosened, and there were empty coconut husks by their sides. Had Di Angelo done this?

Walking to him down by the surf took half of her life, and she was covered in sweat by the time she managed to sit a few feet behind him, careful not to get any salt water in her leg wound.

It was a beautiful, clear day. The sound of birds in the distance made the saddest sound she'd heard in years. She missed her birds.

"How is your leg?"

Reyna jumped. She hadn't expected him to speak to her at all. He hadn't done so once yet.

"It's better. Thank you for this," she replied, clutching her walking stick.

After a long pause, she asked, "Why did you help those men? They were sent out to kill us, they deserved to die."

"Nobody deserves to die," he replied simply.

She blinked at the unexpected answer.

In a matter of hours, Nico di Angelo had started to appear like an entirely different person than Reyna had originally pegged him for. Where was the murderous Ghost Captain that preyed on the innocent? Where was the blood-thirsty pirate that slaughtered men left and right? Perhaps she'd been wrong after all. She knew none of the others would have pitied those men. Hell, Captain Jackson had left them there to die. And yet, the Ghost Captain, feared across the Mediterranean, showed mercy. What else had she been wrong about?

"Will spoke to me about you."

Reyna racked her brain. When had she spoken with William Solace? Then it came to her. Bonifacio. Octavian's massacre.

"He said you were fair, that you did not so much as lay a hand on him. You could have killed him back then. Why didn't you?"

She thought about it for a second.

"He's not a pirate. Well, he wasn't one back then at any rate. He was just dragged into the whole mess. We were looking for you, he wasn't our target. We just needed information."

"Can I ask you something?" the young Captain asked suddenly, almost speaking over her.

She blinked. Judging by the looks of him and what she had concluded about him and William Solace, she made a silent prayer to God hoping he wasn't about to ask her about love.

"What's Hazel like?"

The question took her by surprise. Hazel Levesque, Nico di Angelo's half sister. She had always mistrusted the girl, ever since she'd first met her. She was quiet, exceedingly so, but her eyes shone with an intensity she'd seldom seen in a woman. She was different from Piper, who was confrontational beyond belief, but there was a certain air of danger to her as well. She was different from Annabeth Chase, the calculating Quartermaster, yet she could see the sharp intelligence in those yellow eyes. She did not, however, see even the slightest hint of the aura of death that surrounded him—her long lost brother.

She proceeded to tell him, in measured words that soon gave way to a long monologue, every single aspect of Hazel Levesque that had struck her as different from the moment they'd met.

Nico di Angelo listened to her in rapt attention. At times it felt like he wanted to ask a question, but fell silent as she continued. Eventually, she touched upon the subject of Frank Zhang, and her suspicions that weren't exactly suspicions anymore. Those two had been an item for quite some time, almost as soon as they'd met. To her surprise, Di Angelo smiled at this. He seemed pleased.

"He is a good man, Frank Zhang," Di Angelo said, almost as if he were speaking to himself.

Reyna nodded with hesitation. He was, that much she knew. She just hadn't expected the Ghost Captain to agree.

"How much do you know of their—Percy's plan?" he asked.

She sighed heavily. The goddamn plan, of course. Jackson and Chase had insisted all members of his inner circle were aware of the fucking plan from the start. Send Octavian to find William Solace, since they suspected Di Angelo might be around yet invisible to them. Take him alive, which would force Di Angelo to follow. Leave the mutineers behind. Then once he and Hazel Levesque were reunited, make him see sense so he relinquished the object to her. She told him so, but kept to herself the fact that she had long suspected they hadn't been told the whole truth.

"Listen, Di Angelo—"

"Nico," he cut in. "My name is Nico. And you're Reyna. I think it's time we were on first name basis."

Again, she was surprised.

"Nico," she continued. "I know as much about this plan as the next. But listen to me, it isn't going to work."

This time, it was Nico's turn to look surprised. It went as fast as it came, soon enough, he looked bored.

"Oh," he replied simply, as if she'd merely announced the time.

"That fucking poem you all keep talking about—there's too much that doesn't make sense. They keep implying that by sharing the burden with someone who also shares a blood bond with you, then the curse will somehow, magically be lifted. But the poem doesn't mention anything about a blood bond. It's a square peg in a round hole. Not to mention the fact that up until that damn explosion, our orders had remained to keep William Solace alive at all costs."

At this, Nico turned.

"What did you say?"

Reyna wondered if she'd misspoken, but she hadn't been given orders to keep this particular fact a secret. She told him so.

"Fuck," he exclaimed, drawing his remaining hand through his hair.

"If you ask me, that one does not need protection. If anything, he's the one we should all watch out for. I never would have expected a merchant to have changed so much, he looked… well, he looked like you. Not like a sibling, gross, no. Like a…"

"Like me," Nico offered quietly, his eyes on his stump.

"Forgive me, that's all I can tell. It makes no sense at all."

"Aye, it doesn't. And yet, it does." He did not elaborate. He simply sat there, staring at his mutilated arm.

She shook her head, exhausted by the exchange. She didn't know when exactly she fell asleep. When she came to it, night had fallen, and Nico was offering her a hand to return to the enclosure. Percy Jackson did not return that night. Instead, Reyna told Nico about Jason Grace.

Like most women who took up piracy, Reyna had been captured during a pirate raid. In her case, it had happened in Puerto Rico, Spain's privateering stronghold in the Caribbean.

Unlike most women who took up piracy, Reyna had been a skilled fighter, trained from a young age by her father. One of the pirates had been Jason Grace, and instead of keelhauling her, as had been suggested by the other pirates, Jason took it up to his Captain at the time, and convinced him to let her live. After the death of their Captain, Jason was unanimously chosen by the crew to take over. They had sailed together ever since.

At the look Nico was giving her, she made it abundantly clear that she and Captain Grace had never, and would never, have anything but a professional relationship. She was loyal to him, devoted to him, yes. But because he had saved her life and treated her fairly all the while. Just having that conversation with the fucking Ghost Captain would have been enough to put her off ever speaking again, but in the end, it hadn't been as bad as she'd expected. She'd branded him bad company in the beginning, but by the end of their first day alone, she'd found him a good listener.

Through the night, she woke up once or twice, and Nico sat on the same spot, his eyes on the fire.

The next morning, Reyna watched as Nico fed the prisoners. He spoke to them quietly, so quietly she was unable to hear what they were saying from where she lay. The men replied in short answers in exchange for small bites of coconut flesh. When he returned, Nico had a thoughtful look on his face.

"What have you found out?" she asked.

"Confirmed some suspicions. One of your letters was intercepted. They took the bird captive, I thought you'd like to know this, they were, after all, yours?"

She swallowed. "Aurum and Argento, yes."

"I'm sorry about your birds, but they were annoying as fuck."

She smiled. "Mama taught them well."

She was surprised when Nico smiled back. She had never seen him smile, not without irony or ill-disguised anger.

"And I'm sorry about William Solace."

She watched as his face crumpled. It wasn't her intention to start a conversation that would ultimately veer into the unbearable, but she felt compelled to offer her condolences. For all they knew, Solace was already dead.

"He's not dead. I know it," he replied, as if he'd read her mind.

She sighed sadly. She kept thinking the same about Captain Grace, but she knew it was nothing more than wishful thinking. Their chances of survival were slim to none.

"Listen, I know you—"

He interrupted her by raising his stump, then, to her utter surprise, a flash of light in the shape of a hand appeared just where his ghost hand had been. Just as quickly, it was gone, but Reyna's mind was reeling.

"What the fuck."

"I can't hold it for more than a second or two, but as long as I can see it, I know he's alive. There's… something that's been bothering me the longest time. Perhaps, you could help me make sense of it."

She was so surprised she looked around, wondering if he was speaking to someone else. What could she possibly have to offer? Captain Grace was the insightful one, Annabeth Chase would probably crack any puzzle, but her? She was just Reyna.

"There's still some rum," he said, offering the bottle to her. "I suggest you drink. This is about to get really weird for you."

She wasn't much of a drinker, and she didn't take more than a few mouthfuls, but by the time Nico was done with his story, Reyna's mind was spinning, and it might have had nothing to do with the rum.

In the beginning, she thought the issue had been simple enough. Di Angelo had somehow overshared some of his powers with William Solace. The latter had been, in turn, granted the otherworldly ability to summon those back from the dead, end of story. But then, once Nico's ring (it had been a ring all along!) had been stolen, he'd lost all his powers, while Will's remained unchanged—stronger even. Nico grew weaker, slowly poisoned by his own blood, and his suffering could only be ameliorated by being in close proximity to Solace. Specifically, Solace's breeches, which Nico had called his treasure and had fashioned into a sash for the both of them to share.

But now, Solace was gone, and Nico—who had feared he would die within a day or two if he and Will were separated—was perfectly fine. This was Nico's dilemma, and no matter how he went about looking at things, nothing made sense to him.

Reyna could see why. The entire ordeal made no sense to her either.

"Hold on," she spoke, drawing a hand across her sweaty forehead. Nico had been right, that story contained much information she could have gone a lifetime without. Especially the parts about William Solace being a magnificent lay. But it still felt like they had missed something important all along. One part in particular called her attention.

"You're telling me… you resurrected a nagual?"

Nico snapped his left-hand fingers and pointed straight at her. "That word. What was that again, na-what?"

She shook her head disbelievingly.

"A nagual is an Aztec shape-shifter. Most people don't believe in them, as there are very few Aztecs left to begin with, but then if he died that long ago—"

"She," Nico cut in.

"She?" she repeated blankly. "What?"

"What?" Nico echoed.

They stared at each other, searching each other's faces as their minds went on overdrive.

"You have no idea what you have done, have you?" she asked.

Nico frowned at her in a very childish fashion that almost had her smiling. She shook her head again, clearing her thoughts.

"The Aztecs believe some people can connect to animals on a spiritual level. The idea is that, once a connection has been established, the person becomes a nagual, and can shape-shift into animals at will. But yours was different. He—she can turn into a woman, change her gender at will?"

Nico nodded, his frown still in place.

"Well, fuck me. That makes absolutely no sense. And you said she'd started to become, how did you put it, more human? Alive, almost?"

Nico nodded again, his eyes growing wider by the second.

"Will told her to. He told me he specifically commanded her to act more human. He… he did this. It was him all along."

Reyna slapped her forehead. "Well, of course it was him! That much is obvious. But listen to me, Nico. Your curse grants you the power to bring ghosts back from the dead. It doesn't allow you to return the dead back to life, does it?"

Nico frowned. "No. I'd never seen anything like it before."

"And naguals have the ability to shape-shift into animals—not the opposite gender. What gave William Solace the ability to command the ghost to do so? Perhaps he possesses a quality you do not? Still, the question remains… how did he do it? What gave him the power? You had a ring… without it, you lost connection to your curse, but him?"

She wanted to get up and pace around, but the idea of forcing her leg too much rooted her to the sand. Still, she wondered. She began to draw figures on the sand, absent-mindedly at first, until finally, she stopped.

"Take off your clothes," she exclaimed, turning to him.

"Excuse me?"

"Take them off, come on. No, you know what? Give me your sash."

Percy returned in the evening of the second day, as he had promised. As Reyna had suspected, the ship wasn't large—it might have belonged to a rich nobleman who'd taken a small interest in sailing—but it would have to do.

The moment Leo berthed the little dinghy to collect them, Reyna hastily threw all their remaining weapons onboard, got in herself, and commanded Leo to start rowing.

"What? What about Di Angelo?" Leo asked, perplexed.

"He's coming. He's letting the hostages free."

"He what?"

In the distance, Nico Di Angelo was sprinting to them as fast as he could. There was no one chasing him, as Reyna had suspected, yet she preferred being cautious. Nico had to swim a few yards before he managed to climb onto the dinghy.

"You've got balls, Di Angelo. I can't wait to watch Captain Jackson cut them off for what you've done."

"You're not telling him nothing!" Reyna threatened, throwing him one of her deadliest glares. Leo looked so surprised he swallowed. She knew it, she scared him and was infinitely proud of it.

"Hermana…" he began, but she cut him short.

"Cállate. Algún día se lo agradecerás." You'll thank him one day, she told him, and was sure the day would certainly come.

When they got to the ship, Reyna was quick to address Captain Jackson, who'd taken the liberty of stealing a spanking new green velvet suit from some crazy rich man's wardrobe.

"A word, Captain Jackson?"

He turned, holding a pipe between his teeth. He was not smoking it, Reyna realized, merely pretending to, which made her roll her eyes. Were these really the fiercest pirates of the day?

Behind her, Nico, still drenched to the bone, approached.

"I need a favor."

Jackson's eyes widened.

"O-of course. I mean… what the fuck do you want?"

Nico and Reyna exchanged identical looks of triumph.

Nico took a step forward, outstretched his remaining hand and opened his fist. On his palm sat a tiny, white pearl.

"Your earring is gold, right? I need to melt it."

It hadn't been easy to convince him to give up his earring, but in the end, Percy relented once he understood what Nico had been suggesting. Annabeth had been right. She had been so fucking right all along. They'd done all the work themselves.

But then, they'd ruined it.

Not only had Nico had his fucking treasure stolen, Solace's own treasure was here, with Nico.

Fucking idiots.

He sat on the railing, his eyes on the horizon, his mind busy with thoughts of Annabeth's plan. He wasn't exactly worried about her safety, he knew she could take care of herself; this wasn't what bothered him. However, many things could go sour really fast. Say they had been separated, that would fuck things over for them. It was imperative that Annabeth remained by William Solace's side.

He looked around the deck. In the far end, the three other members of their small entourage were huddled together as Leo went about melting his earring. Nico watched with glassy eyes, his remaining fist to his chest. Percy knew what he held in his hand, the single reason why he wasn't dead yet.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. At least, they hadn't fucked things up entirely. So long as they had completed the ritual—which judging by all appearances, they had—then all Nico had to do was not to lose the fucking pearl.

No. That wasn't all. There was something Percy had to find out, and the idea filled him with more dread than the thought of meeting Annabeth's mother, which she had assured him would happen sooner or later.

He turned and focused on the horizon instead. It was the middle of the night; the sea was calm—perfect for sailing under the cover of darkness. All they had to do was not miss their turn into the stretch of Messina on the way to their final destination.

A pearl, of all things. He could have chosen anything, and he picked the tiniest most easily overseen treasure the ocean had to offer. He might have chosen a grain of salt.

He hadn't heard Nico approach, lost as he was in his thoughts. For a moment, Percy wanted to smile. All Nico had to do now was push him into the sea and Percy would be no more. He even considered whether or not he would scream to alert the others. Perhaps death was easier after all. Then he wouldn't have to spend any more sleepless nights wondering whether Nico di Angelo was alright.

"I could just push you," Nico offered.

Percy wanted to curse. Could the fucker read minds as well?

"Guess that would please you," he replied instead.

Nico climbed onto the railing, mimicking Percy's own precarious position.

"Say I believe you," he said after a while. "About Bianca."

Percy swallowed. He still wasn't used to hearing her name on Nico's lips without the customary poison.

"Took you long enough. Chased you halfway around the world and almost died a few times. Lost me my ship, most of my crew…"

"I said I believed you about Bianca. But you're lying about Hazel."

At this, Percy turned. Just how much did Nico actually know? He sighed with exhaustion.

"Listen, Nico. My main goal is to fulfil my oath to B-Bianca," he took a deep breath and found he could go on. "And I promised her I'd see you live. There is only one way to do that now, and I fucking hate it that it's me telling you this. It was meant to be Annabeth. Not me."

"Tell me what?"

Percy swallowed, then shook his head. That was it. He'd be coming clean any second now. He'd be saying out loud that which he had never spoken. Not even to Annabeth, who'd figured it out on her own and had spared him the humiliation.

"I believed, I sincerely believed that Hazel might have been able to help you with the curse, with you being blood relatives. But you took measures into your own hands—excuse me, hand—and without knowing it, you'd involved William Solace. We knew of this after we heard Octavian's testimony."

At the mention of Octavian's name, Nico flared up, but Percy raised his hand. "I know, I know. We can talk about that now, or I can tell you what you want to know. Choose wisely."

Nico huffed. Percy fancied he wanted to cross his arms over his chest, but with the unbalance of having only one hand, he would have surely pummeled headfirst into the sea.

"Good decision. Now, let me tell you something. That pearl you got there, the one Leo is fashioning into some piece jewelry I presume, is proof. William Solace got himself a treasure, and he's been bearing half of your curse, which is what I had intended for Hazel—to which she agreed beforehand, just so you know. Now, fuck my luck, the plan with Hazel is no-go, but she is still a red herring, mate. And she must remain so."

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Percy grit his teeth. What would Annabeth say? All the details of the blessed curse were jumbled up in his head. He didn't know where to begin, he specifically did not know what words to use. At least he seemed to have Nico's undivided attention.

"In my travels with your sister, we gathered much information. We were in search of a way to break the curse and found nothing, but then we realized we were looking for the wrong thing. We discovered the curse could not be broken, but it could be shared. Angelica's grand finale. Two wedding rings, you see? Hers and her husband's. Now, after centuries, that has translated into two treasures. You, a ring. Solace… a fucking pearl."

"It makes sense. It's stupid, but it makes sense," Nico said softly, speaking into the darkness ahead of them.

"Without knowing what the fuck you were doing," Percy interrupted loudly, "you and Solace managed to complete the first step of an ancient ritual that marks the beginning of the curse transfer. Like I said, I had meant for you to do it with Hazel, but you got ahead of me."

He turned to Nico, hoping he wouldn't have to say more, hoping he wouldn't ask further questions.

"A ritual… that you wanted me to do with Hazel?"

Percy shuddered. Fuck, it was going all wrong. He shook his head. "Not exactly. Listen mate, I thought that, by you and Hazel being blood relatives, you might be able to skip a step."

"Skip what step?"

Percy groaned. He didn't want to get into it. It should have been Annabeth here, not him. He should be with William Solace, silently keeping him alive. This is what he was good at, he was not a talker, he was not the right person to disclose all this information.

"It be that damn step that transfers powers onto the other. It's more than just putting your treasure into someone's mouth, you need to do something specific."

"Yes, I know that. A dog ate my ring once."

"Excuse me?" asked Percy.

Nico shook his head. "Nothing, it's just… stupid. Tell me what else had to be done, besides putting the treasure in someone's mouth."

"I don't want to tell you," he muttered, aware of how childish he sounded.

"Wait, you really know how it happened? Tell me!" For a second, Nico also sounded like a child.

"Aye, aye. I said I don't want to tell you, but I'm gonna. Even though it's fucking embarrassing."

"Perseus Jackson, I swear—"

Percy raised his hand. "Don't swear. Stop it with the fucking oaths, I can't take them anymore."

It all came down to oaths in the end, and Percy did not want to get into that any sooner than he actually had to. If Nico was about to swear an oath, then Percy would rather jump into the sea. It was right there.

"Just be quiet for a minute. In our travels, we retrieved another poem—"

"Oh, fuck me," Nico interjected, drawing his stump through his hair. "Not another one, goddammit!"

Percy let out a dry chuckle. "Mate, I fucking hate poems too, you know?"

"Can't you just tell me what it means? Can we skip the damn thing? I will seriously murder you if you begin reciting poetry right now."

"Deal. But if Annabeth asks, I told you the whole damn thing. Here's the gist: you stuck your ring into your mate Solace's fucking mouth, that's the first part, then, the two of you managed to exchange blood and… I'm guessing you probably fucked too. That was mandatory, blood and intimacy. That be all. That be the whole fucking ritual. Savvy? A fucking heathen wedding of sorts," he said, speaking rather fast.

Percy would have laughed at the way Nico's face paled for about five seconds before it filled up with color to the point where he started to resemble a boiled crustacean, but the conversation wasn't nearly over, and the worst of his revelations was yet to come.

"What? But—wait… you wanted me to have sex with Hazel?!" Nico stammered in outrage.

"Fucking hell, I said I wanted you to skip that step with her! Blood relatives, mate, blood relatives. Fucking asshole…"

"But—a wedding?"

"That's all I say about that. Don't wanna hear any details, but that's what you and Solace did. That's the first step and… and that's—" he stopped to collect his bearings.

His time had come.

Nico wasn't speaking, he wasn't moving. Percy wondered if he was still breathing. He knew Nico must have been feeling woefully overwhelmed. For a fleeting moment, he pitied him. But then he remembered how much that fucking curse had affected his life, how much it had taken from him. He'd lost a friend, a true, loyal friend when Bianca died, and to this day, his biggest regret had been the fact that he couldn't have saved her in the end, even if he had known the truth all along.

"That's what I couldn't do with your sister. That's why she chose to die. She never told me that was the plan. I… I found a letter addressed to me where she explained everything. The ritual is one of blood and intimacy, and it marks the beginning."

Nico turned, his eyes wide.

"You—"

"The reason Bianca is dead is I wouldn't go along with it. The reason you wanted me dead for so long is you thought I had. How fucking ironic. I have, many times over, cursed the day I met you two. But then again, it wasn't up to us. You know about our stupid parents, Nico, don't you?"

"Yes," Nico hissed angrily.

Good, one fewer item to explain.

"But, heathen wedding… blood… with Will… when?" Nico asked out loud, though he was clearly talking to himself.

"Don't know. Don't want to know. Do not discuss this with me. Whatever you do in your time of leisure is your thing. Spare me the details. But you did stick your ring inside Solace's mouth, and then you went about and did… that fucking ghost orgy or whatever—no, do not explain! I do not want to know, but whatever you did, it was enough."

"Putting the ring in someone's mouth…" Nico muttered, ruffled at the interruption. "Of course that wouldn't have been enough. I did it with my mother… and then the dog…"

Percy tried to follow.

"You didn't fuck the dog, did you?"

Nico threw him a look of the upmost loathing.

"Fuck you. So, that's what it took after Bonifacio? Sex and blood? Well, that's stupid. That's the first step? What's the next?"

Percy growled.

"Gifts. A gift upon the breast as token, something of that description. You must have given Solace that pearl, and he treasured it as a gift. That about sealed the deal," he said.

Nico nodded, remembering the poem. Percy watched him digest this.

"But what does all that have to do with Hazel? Who are you trying to fool, here? I know it's Will. In a way, I've always known. What's the point of pretending with Hazel?"

"There's one more thing. Two, in fact. Two issues that you must disclose to me, before I tell you about Hazel, and you have to be completely honest, it is imperative that you are."

Nico looked at him, his eyes betraying no emotion.

"First question. Would you say William Solace is pure of heart?" he asked, not used to touching upon abstract subjects.

To him, issues of morality were not worthy of discussion. Who could tell what was right and what was wrong? Laws changed within a few nautical miles, and then again every other year. Were they supposed to adhere to the centuries-old morality of Gothic tribes? The Ancient Roman Empire? And within which coordinates?

Percy's own crooked, medieval moral compass drew the line at murder.

He'd been innocent of killing people as he began his travels with Bianca, but soon enough, he'd had to take someone's life for their protection. Then another, then another. He knew, once he had understood what Bianca's plans had been, that even if he had gone through with her plan of initiating the ritual, it wouldn't have worked in the end. Percy would have never considered himself pure of heart because he was a murderer. This was a condition that had to be met in order for the transfer to work. Bianca, however, had seemingly overlooked this particular fact. Perhaps, to her, murder wasn't wrong under particular circumstances. But what about William Solace?

Percy turned to look at Nico, who was deep in thought. He and Annabeth might have believed William Solace innocent of taking someone's life, but was he guilty of other moral transgressions?

To his surprise, Nico cracked a smile and snorted softly.

"As pure as they come. He wouldn't let me steal a peach. He's a complete moron, but yes. Pure of heart, to a fault."

Percy released a sigh he hadn't known he'd been holding. Annabeth hadn't been sure, she'd emphasized their need to find out. Only now did it down on him the importance of this particular fact. Now, a different issue arose. He could feel heat rising up his cheeks, so he looked pointedly away from Nico as he asked him the dreaded question.

"Does William Solace know you love him?"

"Wh—what? Wh—I don't see how… that's none of your fucking business!" Nico spat back, his voice two octaves higher.

Percy drew a sharp intake of breath, his nostrils flaring.

"Do you think I'm asking out of curiosity? Fucking moron, I don't want to know! But you still have to tell me! It's in the fucking poem!"

"No! Why—"

"Angelica loves one who knows not—fucking hell, I'm reciting poetry to you of all people. Annabeth, I swear to God," Percy pinched the bridge of his nose. He could feel the heat on his face. This was mortifying.

Next to him, Nico huffed indignantly, but at least he stopped arguing. That was a good thing, because Percy was really starting to lose his patience. He'd held on long enough.

He took a deep, calming breath and began counting fish. One swordfish. Two swordfish. Three swordfish.

"Listen mate, we all know you fucking do. This isn't a matter of whether or not you've fixated on the poor bastard. The question is, does he know? Simple as that. Why do you think Bianca kept me in the dark all the time? Why do you think she didn't tell me anything about her plans? Because your fucking great great great great great great great grandmother or whatever the fuck she was, fucking Angelica was a sadistic bitch!"

Nico found a way to snort amidst his indignation. But there was nothing funny about the situation. It was ironic, it was moronic, but definitely not funny.

"If Solace knows, then you've fucked everything up, plain as that. The idea is he should carry on without knowledge of your feelings for him. It's part of the sacrifice. It's how Angelica planned it. To punish you through someone else's suffering, that's the whole point. If Solace knows, well, we'll have to find another way. But if he doesn't, you have to tell me now. Do you see why Hazel is important? Why Solace must suspect she is the intended one to receive the curse? So long as she is there, he'll have no idea about your intentions. We must keep up the pretense. And then, the transfer might yet work, but you have to tell me if he knows—"

"I said no, goddammit. He doesn't fucking know a thing, I—" Nico exclaimed, he was panting, his voice was breaking. "I never told him. I… there was a voice. Angelica in my head, I'm sure. She… kept warning me. She told me not to say anything."

Percy blinked. "Angelica… the Angelica? She… talks to you?"

That came as a surprise. He'd never heard Bianca mention anything like this before. Could it be that she had never mentioned this to him, or was it possible that it was different with Nico? No, Percy knew instantly. Yet another secret Bianca had withheld from him.

"Someone did. Yes, it must have been her, she talked to me. Even after I lost my ring, when I was with Will, she would speak. Whisper in my head," Nico explained, his voice taking on a desperate tone.

Percy turned, disregarding the precarious way his legs barely clutched onto the railing.

"She told you not to say anything… about that?" he whispered.

"She did… constantly. It was…" Nico turned as well, his legs dangling dangerously over the banister. "Awful. Torturous. He, Will, he kept… he kept telling me, over and over again, and I… couldn't say anything back. Angelica kept me from saying anything at all."

"Mate," Percy whispered, his eyes growing wide, "that fucking sow, do you see it now? Do you know what that evil bitch had in store for anyone who attempted to break the curse?"

"No, you're wrong," Nico shook his head, "she's been advising me. She's been telling me what to do, from the beginning!"

"You're out of your mind," Percy interjected.

Nico shook his head, letting go of the railing.

"Think about it!" Nico exclaimed, gesticulating with both hand and stump. "Maybe she wants the curse broken! I'm the last one, the curse dies with me. What if she wants to end it as much as I do? What if, after generations, she's finally had her fill and wants to give me a chance—"

"Nico, listen to yourself. Your mother, your sister, they all succumbed to this curse. Why would Angelica herself be willing to help you break it? Are you suggesting she pities you? Wishes you well? What is it about you that Bianca was lacking? Was she not good enough? Are you somehow better than her, worthier than her? She went through all those lengths for you—and you're suggesting Angelica, somehow still conscious somewhere, allowed her to die, just because—"

"Maybe it has nothing to do with Bianca! Maybe it's not even about me! Fucking hell, maybe it's got nothing to do with us at all," Nico interjected, his face pale, nostrils flaring.

Percy felt his face shaking with anger. Fifteen swordfish. Sixteen swordfish. Fucking Nico di Angelo was out of his mind. Angelica, helping him?

"Maybe it's about Will Solace!" yelled a voice right behind them.

Their jerk of surprise was enough to shake Percy and Nico's grip on the banister. Percy let out a howl of rage and shock as they—Nico at his side—pummeled straight into the sea.

It took them an eternity to get back onboard, since Nico couldn't very well hoist himself up a rope with a missing hand. Percy had to practically piggyback-ride him over the banister, and when they finally collapsed on deck, it was all Percy could do not to toss Leo into the sea.

"Honestly, honestly, we weren't trying to overhear—" Leo began.

"I wasn't trying to overhear," Reyna interrupted, "You were totally eavesdropping. But, admittedly, Captain Jackson, Leo was only coming over to inform Nico the ring was done."

Percy was coughing, as was Nico next to him, but at Reyna's words, Percy's anger began to flare up.

"Another ring, Nico? Do you never learn? You lost your fucking hand, couldn't you have him fashion something more inconspicuous, like a handcuff of a paperweight—"

"It's not a ring!" Nico exclaimed. "Not… that kind of ring. A bit like an earring… I thought, perhaps…"

"It's an earring alright," interjected Leo. "But thanks to me, it doesn't have to go on the ear! You know it, right, hermana?" he said, looking at Reyna. "This little bad boy could go anywhere… you can get creative, if you know what I mean!"

Percy spat what looked like seaweed, but refused to acknowledge it as he glared at Nico.

Honestly, was he the only one who made any sense around here?

To his surprise, Reyna picked up the conversation.

"Captains, forgive me if I'm wrong, but haven't you thought about the implications this has for Hazel?"

At this, both Percy and Nico turned to her.

She continued. "The entire point is to keep William Solace in the dark, isn't it? He should not suspect he has been the intended recipient all along. By, forgive my bluntness, parading Hazel before him, he's supposed to believe Di Angelo holds her in greater esteem than him—which fucking sucks for him, by the way. But this is what you have told us all! Nobody knows the truth about Solace but Hazel herself."

Percy cut in quickly at the murderous look Nico threw his way, "Aye, but she has known about it all along—she's brave, she's volunteered! This isn't a danger to her, she doesn't even have to say anything, she doesn't need to lie. All we need to do is keep Solace in the dark for now."

Nico cursed at him, as he was still coughing and gasping on the floor, he made feeble attempts at kicking Percy, but Percy was quick to move out of his way.

"And are you ready to see her sacrifice her life to keep that a secret? If she is brave, if she is fearless, like you said, then she will not betray the truth about Solace. The crew believes she is the intended recipient. If their captors were suddenly privy to this information, and she doesn't give Solace up—well, do you understand what this means? Her life is in danger and you barely seem to have noticed!"

Percy's eyes widened.

"Fuck."

He saw Nico's well-aimed kick a second too late and before he knew it, everything went black.

Onboard her captor's ship, inside a tiny holding cell, Annabeth Chase stared intently at her hands. She'd lost consciousness after the explosion, but when she woke up, finding herself captive, she was thankful she hadn't been tied up. Pirates were amongst the first to refute that some women could possess as much prowess and deadly fighting skills as men. She thought of Piper, the deadliest woman she'd ever met, wondering if she was still alive. At least, misogyny had worked to her advantage in this case—she was free to move around in the minuscule space of her cage. She could even look out the tiny window on the top left corner of the room, which had been carved there with no other apparent purpose than to make the room flood with water faster if the ship sank.

She turned to look at the lithe figure of Hazel Levesque on the floor next to her. Hazel wasn't a fighter, and she wasn't used to the life of piracy—hell, she couldn't even swim. And yet she possessed something just as deadly. She had an iron-clad determination about her—a fearlessness that could rival the fiercest of pirates. No restraints would work on her.

Hazel hadn't woken up since they'd been taken. The explosion had taken its toll on her, rendering her unconscious, but at least she had survived.

Annabeth looked at the scratches on her arms; she felt her face and drew her fingers across a few lacerations. She'd survived with minor injuries as well. How had that happened?

It didn't take her long to come up with a plausible conclusion—it must have been the ghosts. There was no way they could have survived such an explosion, let alone escaped with only a few cuts and bruises, without the intervention of unearthly forces. She wondered if Di Angelo had given the order, or if the ghosts had acted alone. Most importantly, where were they now? Who else was on the ship, besides Hazel and her?

She shook her head and bit her lip. Something told her Di Angelo must have survived—the little Captain had always proved hard to kill, but her thoughts were with Solace, hoping he was still alive.

To her side, Hazel began to stir.

Annabeth moved quickly. She lifted Hazel's head and tilted the last few drops of her water canteen into her mouth.

Hazel's eyes fluttered open when she tasted the liquid, then reached for the canteen, thirsty for more.

"I'm sorry, there isn't any left. Been saving the last for you. How are you feeling?" Annabeth asked gently, her throat raspy.

With Annabeth's help, Hazel managed to sit up. She looked around the tiny room, then began to search herself for injuries.

"You are fine. Minor scratches. Hazel, listen to me. Did you see anyone else while we were being captured?"

She began to shiver, fear clouding her eyes.

"Captured… I knew it. I saw the men. I saw the ship—" she stammered, then pressed her hands to her mouth.

Suddenly, the echoing sound of footsteps reached them. They both turned in the direction of the door. Judging by the sound, they were still a few yards down the corridor.

"Hazel," Annabeth hissed. "Who else is on this ship? Who did you see?"

The footsteps were getting closer.

"I… Frank. Frank is here. And Jason too. And… and those blonde boys. Two of them."

Annabeth grit her teeth. She could hear the sounds of metal clinking as someone outside the door fumbled with a set of keys.

"Was it Nico? Did you see Nico?"

Hazel's eyes filled with tears. "No… not him. It wasn't him. It was… the other. Solace."

Annabeth heard the sound of keys falling to the floor and a man cursing loudly.

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck!" she hissed, allowing herself a moment of indulgence. She had to think fast. All was not lost—if Percy had managed to stay with Di Angelo, and Solace was onboard the ship with her, then there was still a chance. But Hazel was in danger.

"Listen to me, Hazel. If they take you they'll question you, they'll beat you for sure. But they won't kill you! Not if you do as I say. You must do exactly as I say, do you understand?" she hissed as she shook her to emphasize the importance of her words.

Hazel nodded, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

The man outside the door continued to fumble with the keys. She didn't have much time.

As quickly and clearly as possible, Annabeth began to whisper instructions into Hazel's ear. When she was done, Hazel's eyes were wide with fear.

The door finally creaked open and Annabeth pulled Hazel into a hug. "Be brave, Hazel. Do this for Nico. His life and Solace's, in fact, all of us depend on you now."

The man took two steps into the cell and forcefully extricated Hazel from Annabeth's arms. When their fingertips lost contact, Annabeth raised her eyes to meet Hazel's and saw, with relief, that they were dry.

In a separate holding cell a few levels below, Will tossed in his sleep.

He knew he was dreaming, he was perfectly aware of the fact, but he tried to hold on, he did not want to wake up.

Fading as his dream dissipated, Alex-Fierro outstretched her arms in his direction.

You must get the ring! It's the only way! she screamed, her voice growing more and more distant.

"Wait!" Will yelled back, and the echo he heard told him he was awake and she wasn't there at all. "Wait!" he yelled yet again, and this time, someone responded.

"Will! Will, you're okay! You're fine! Wake up, Will!"

Will opened his eyes. The room was dark, but within seconds everything appeared clear to him. There was a flap on the door, small enough for a man to stick in a bowl of something. Sure enough, a bowl of water had been snuck there while they slept. Nearby, to his side, Magnus wiggled against his restraints. He was chained to the wall as well, so he could only offer a few kind words from a distance.

To his other side lay Frank Zhang, the gentle giant whose limp figure sent Will's mind into a frenzy. Had he succumbed to his injuries? Was he simply asleep? He wanted to call his name but his mouth still knew nothing but the word wait. He thought about kicking him. If he repositioned his legs he might just be able to reach him. But what good would that do if he was dead?

And Alex. Where was she? Why wouldn't she come to him? It was all he could do to call her name in his sleep, but she wasn't responding. Nor were the others. T.J., Keen, Hearthstone, Blitz, Gunderson—none of them were here.

And Nico. Where was Nico? Was he dead?

No, definitely not. Will would know. Nico must be alive, but where?

He took a few seconds to calm himself. Anxiety was getting him nowhere. Then he realized Jason Grace was still missing.

Will had no idea how long he had slept, but he found it extremely troubling that Grace hadn't been brought back. Had Captain Grace been the first to die, after all? He hadn't wished him ill. After all, he'd let Will go when they'd first met, all those months ago in Bonifacio.

But if he wasn't dead, where was he?

So much for trying to reel in his anxiety. If he kept it up, all he would achieve was getting a massive headache, which he did not need considering how much pain he was in already.

"Will?" Magnus asked, his voice trembling.

"I'm here, Magnus," Will replied, hoping he didn't sound as weak as he felt.

"They took the girls. There were two of them. One of them was the girl Frank loves. He told me all about her. The dark-skinned one. Nico's sister. I saw them being taken away as we were dragged here. Will, they're just girls."

Will's eyes searched Magnus's face. He could see his features as clear as day. Magnus, always the gentleman, his hair a matted mess, his eyes wide with worry. Then, with a jolt, an idea ignited in his mind.

"Magnus, did you see Nico? Was he taken captive too? Is he on this ship?" he asked almost hysterically.

"No," Magnus replied instantly. "Nico wasn't there when they brought us in. I didn't see him. They talked about him, about how he must have gotten away."

"Thank Odin," he whispered, relief washing over him.

"But… the girls!" Magnus exclaimed.

"I'll get them, Magnus. Don't you worry. I'll find a way. We'll make it out of here alive, and we'll be back with the rest in no time."

He spoke rather rashly. In all honesty, his mind wasn't on the girls. Nico had somehow managed to escape after all. They hadn't caught him.

Damn that Thunderbeard! He'd gone after them at sea. He must have seen the ring wouldn't work for him, and in his sick mind, he must still think Nico's death would bring the power to him.

But he is still alive, he told himself. The ghost of Alex had confirmed it. And yet, he, Will, had failed him. For all he knew, he would die in this ship without ever being able to help Nico break the curse.

Suddenly, he thought of something, his eyes widening.

"Magnus, you said Hazel is here? She is alive?"

"Y-yes, I saw her. She saw me too, I think."

Will's mind was reeling. There was still a way.

If what Jackson had said was correct, then Hazel was the only way. She was a blood relative of Nico's. It might just work. It might just work. But just how the hell was he supposed to go about it? He was chained to a wall. There were no weapons around and no one was coming to help this time.

He could only see one way around the situation. He needed to get close enough to the ring in order to contact Alex. If their mental link still worked, as it had done the night they'd been taken prisoners, then she might be able to help.

"Magnus," Will said. "Has anyone been here after they took Grace?"

Magnus shook his head. "Grace is the blonde man? No, they haven't been back. Do you think he's dead?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Magnus, I need you to do me a favor."

"O-of course. Anything," he replied, looking slightly taken aback.

Will took a deep breath. "If they come for you, you have to tell them it's me!"

Magnus frowned, opening and closing his mouth as if he failed to comprehend. Why didn't he get it? It was so obvious.

"You? What did you do?" he asked finally.

"They are here because of the ring, Magnus. They are the ones who killed our friends, and now they're after Nico. They wanted to kill him but they failed. But if they find out that that girl, Hazel, is the only one who can break the curse, then they'll kill her! You must tell them it's me! Tell them it's me who's been helping Nico! You must tell them I am the one who can help him break the curse. That way, they'll forget about her, and she might just survive."

"But—I mean, it is you, isn't it? You called the guys back. You brought the ship back. You are the one, Will," Magnus cut in. Will could see his eyes moving from side to side, trying to make sense of his words. "But then… they'll just kill you instead!"

Will shook his head. Magnus, dear, sweet Magnus, failed to understand the depth of the curse. He might have been granted a few moments of power by Nico, but Hazel was a blood relative, and she was the only one who could help. And she… she was the one Nico loved above anyone else. Will swallowed. It was a harsh truth, but it was the truth nonetheless.

"She is the key, Magnus. If we don't do this, they will kill her!"

Magnus's eyes widened to the size of giant saucers.

"Oh, no. We can't have that. Frank will be heartbroken! But… I don't want you to die either. Nico will be so upset. And I mean… he'll explode, he'll just explode. And he'll kill us all for sure…"

"Magnus!" Will yelled, starting to lose his patience. It was imperative he followed his instructions. "Don't worry about Nico. So long as he survives—so long as Hazel survives, even if I die, I'll come back! Nico will bring me back. But if she dies, then so does he and nobody will be able to return, not even as a ghost. Do you understand?"

He watched as understanding finally dawned on Magnus, his face set in a grimace of unbreakable determination. Curtly, Magus nodded once.

"You are right," he said.

Will exhaled loudly. If Thunderbeard came close to him again, perhaps he would be able to talk to Alex and tell her what to do. If she still contained some force in her ghostly form, perhaps she could protect Hazel. And then, all they had to do was wait for Nico to come find them. Will was sure he would come. He would!

He'd been so immersed in his thoughts he failed to register the sounds of approaching footsteps. When he heard the jingle of keys just outside the door, he turned to Magnus one more time.

"They're here. Promise me!" he exclaimed.

"I—" Magnus began, but then the door creaked open.

Will watched as an enormous man stomped into the cell. The pirate looked around, his eyes going from prisoner to prisoner.

"Which one of you is William Solace?" the man barked.

To Will's utter astonishment, Magnus began to yell.

"It's me! I am William Solace!"

Will felt the color drain off his face. "Wh—what? No! No, I am! I am William Solace! Magnus—Magnus what the fuck—"

"Never mind him. He is Magnus, my humble servant. I am William Solace. I am the merchant, the one who has been traveling with Nico di Angelo. I am William Solace! That… that be me!"

Will's mouth fell open. What was Magnus thinking?

He turned to their captor, who looked more confused than ever.

"You?" he asked Magnus.

"No!" Will screamed. "It's me! I am William Solace!"

The man shook his head. He looked around as if hoping someone else could confirm this, but Will and Magnus began screaming at the same time, both of them claiming to be William Solace, until the man made a grimace of pain and yelled into the room.

"ENOUGH!"

Within a few strides, he reached Magnus, slapped him across the face, then began to unlock his chains as Magnus fell unconscious.

Will barked at him that he was mistaken. He yelled at him so loud he wondered if the rest of the crew were able to hear him. But the man paid him no mind. Eventually, he made it to Will's side and slapped him as hard as he could.

Will knew he'd been stunned the moment he felt his face hit the floor. He wasn't aware of how long it took the man to unchain him, but soon enough, he felt himself being lifted off the floor. During the next few minutes, he saw but the floorboards underneath as the man carried them—Magus by his side—out of their holding cell and up one, two, three flights of stairs.

When he regained consciousness, the first thing he realized was how soft the floor felt under his boots. He opened his eyes and spotted carpet—lush and welcoming. His ears caught the sounds of whimpering, but it took him a few further seconds to gather the strength to raise his head.

"Ah, he awakes!" said a booming, cruel voice.

Will blinked. The room was exceedingly bright for his eyes. He tried to shade his face with his hands but he realized he had been tied to a chair. He shook his head so his disheveled hair fell over his face like a curtain, shielding him from the brightness of the room. Will searched for a window and found it was the middle of the night. The light was coming from a low-hanging chandelier. Slowly, as the whimpering around him grew louder, he regained his vision and took in his surroundings, one bright shape at a time.

He would never have expected to find himself in the situation that was so grotesquely depicted before him.

He and a few others were positioned in a circle—each tied to a chair. In the middle of the room, his bare feet on the luxurious carpet, was a man Will had never seen before, but of whom he had heard plenty.

Thunderbeard.

He was one of the tallest men Will had ever seen—taller even than Halfborn Gunderson. So tall in fact that the top of his head almost touched the chandelier that hung from the middle of the room. There must have been dozens of candles there, and Will distantly wished they would light the ship on fire.

Thunderbeard took a drag from his pipe. The air in the room was suffocating, white clouds billowing from both from the pipe and the candles. They were especially thick around Thunderbeard's face. Still, Will could distinguish his features. He had a thick, white beard and electric blue eyes. An array of weapons hung from his belt—Will counted two pistols and several knives. His eyes zeroed in on his hand. And there it was, on the tip of his pinky, Nico's Angelica ring. The man took two steps in Wil's direction, his pipe between his teeth.

ALEX, Will screamed with his mind, his eyes on the man's ring as he smoked his pipe. ALEX, CAN YOU HEAR ME?

Behind him, Will could have sworn he saw something, but it might have been nothing but smoke. The man took another drag from his pipe, and the white cloud around him grew thicker. The pungent smell was almost overpowering, like poison evaporating all around him.

Will turned his face away and his eyes fell on Magnus.

Sweet Magnus, who had had his best intentions at heart—his face swollen with bruises, blood dripping down his chin—sat tied to a chair to his immediate right.

Will turned to the other side. Jason Grace, looking physically unharmed, was tied to a chair as well, but his face belonged to a man who had suffered at length in a short span of time. His eyes found Will's and he mouthed something Will couldn't make out. He looked drunk—poisoned, even.

But nothing had prepared Will for what he saw next. As he looked ahead, past the figure of Thunderbeard who stood directly before him, he found Hazel, tied to a chair like the rest, and she was the source of the pitiful whimpering that had brought him back to consciousness. The ropes around her midriff and legs kept her from crumpling over, but she looked barely alive. Will couldn't see her face, as her hair and the smoke around Thunderbeard obscured her features, but the blood that dripped onto her lap and the way her frame shook told him more than he needed to know.

"Hathel!" Will mumbled. He realized his tongue and lower lip were swollen.

Thunderbeard straightened up, then took a slow victory lap around the room, careful to pause a few seconds before each of his captives as white puffs of smoke followed his wake.

"We seem to find ourselves in a conundrum," he said, once he'd regained the center stage.

"Conundrum!" echoed a horrible voice in the back of the room. Will narrowed his eyes and spotted a bird in a cage. One of Jackson's birds, to be precise.

Thunderbeard smiled cruelly, puffing circles as he smoked his pipe with relish.

"That be correct, my feathery friend. I am being fed nonsense, left and right. You," he turned to Jason, pointing his pipe at him theatrically, "tell me one thing. Then you—" he said, pointing at Hazel, "tell me something else."

Will looked wildly around, trying to spot a beam of light, the shadow of a ghost, anything, as Thunderbeard closed in on him, but he saw nothing but smoke.

"And you," Thunderbeard said, his voice a low, dangerous growl as he took another drag from his pipe and blew smoke directly onto Will's face, "you and that one over there," he nodded in Magnus's direction, "look just about the same. What was it I was told? Blonde and dreamy? I appear to have collected not one but two William Solaces! What a turn of events! Hard to tell who's who. One of you, if not both of you, is lying!"

And then Will saw her, just behind Thunderbeard as he leaned in to look straight into Will's eyes. There was Alex. Naked, male Alex. His fists were high over his head, ready to pummel Thunderbeard to a pulp. But she—he looked insubstantial, almost as if she—he were made of smoke, and he dissipated just as quick as he appeared.

"Thtop!" Will yelled, afraid Alex would strike.

"Captain!" roared a voice behind Will, and he could hear him draw his blade from his sheath. Will tried to turn his head, but the restraints made it impossible. It wasn't just them in the room. Thunderbeard had an accolade keeping guard, and he had seen Alex too.

Thunderbeard arched a thick eyebrow, his eyes going from Will to the man behind him.

"Ganymede?" the pirate asked.

Behind Will, he heard the man huff. Alex was gone.

"N-nothing. A trick of the light, perhaps."

"If you cannot hold your bearings, Ganymede, I will ask you to step out of this room."

"No, Captain. There will be no need—" the man grumbled back.

Thunderbeard nodded, then looked straight into Will's eyes.

"Stop, you said?" he asked. "Why, dear sir. We have barely just begun."

Will knew Alex was there, even though he couldn't see her—him. He closed his eyes, speaking into their mental link.

Not yet. Not yet. Not yet. You must wait. Wait until he attacks me. Wait for my signal! Wait until you are solid enough to strike!

To his surprise, he thought he heard Alex whisper something back, but it made no sense to him whatsoever. The bird, he said. The bird, the bird!

"We should kill them all, Captain," said the man called Ganymede.

"No, no, Ganymede. Your bloodthirst is admirable, but unnecessary at this point. I am glad I did not leave this mission up to you. We would have been left without prisoners!" Thunderbeard chuckled.

The man behind Will huffed, but did not reply.

"I believe this lot deserves a second chance. Shall we begin with you, my darling?" Thunderbeard asked, turning on his heels and coming to a stop right before Hazel.

"I told you all I had to say. You wanted to know where Nico is. I tell you he is in Corinth. And he will await you there!" she spat.

Thunderbeard laughed, then grabbed her by the neck.

"Don't you dare touch her!" exclaimed a voice.

Will jumped. He turned to his side. Jason Grace had straightened up, looking sober and distraught.

Thunderbeard released his grasp around Hazel's neck and took two steps in Jason's direction, kneeling before him.

"You are back, I see. Are you willing to cooperate now? Tell me, son. Is Corinth our destination?"

Jason frowned and shook his head.

"I… yes, yes. That's it. That name has been mentioned!"

"Who is she, again?" Thunderbeard asked Jason, pointing his pipe at Hazel.

Magnus cut in. "She is nobody!" he yelled, his voice breaking. "It's me you want. It's me who has the curse. I am the one—"

Before he could finish speaking, Thunderbeard and his cloud of smoke had crossed the space between them and landed a terrible blow across Magnus's face.

"No!" Will yelled, and behind Thunderbeard, Alex shone brighter.

He heard the man called Ganymede gasp, but Alex dissipated quickly enough.

"No?" asked Thunderbeard, turning to him. "And just who are you to say no to me?"

Behind him, Hazel raised her head, her face a bruised, bloodied mess.

"He is nobody!" she whimpered, but when Thunderbeard turned, her face was stone. "I am the one. I am Nico di Angelo's lost half-sister, daughter of the fearsome Captain Aides. It is I you want! The ritual is almost complete! The curse flows within me—and he will come for me!"

"No!" Will yelled, but Thunderbeard silenced him with a blow to the stomach. Will coughed, pain blinding him momentarily. His eyes filled with tears, but he saw her—him, Alex flash. In his periphery, the way Jason Grace jolted in surprise told him he could see him too. Alex disappeared again, but his naked, invisible feet left imprints on the carpet as he walked behind Thunderbeard's back. Will could only hope the man called Ganymede couldn't see as far as the floor.

"You were saying, my lovely?" Thunderbeard asked Hazel, sounding exceedingly polite. He took two steps in her direction, then raised her chin with the tip of his pinky, the ring almost touching her skin. He tsked, as if he found her bruised face a pity. "Ganymede… surely you've gone overboard with this girl. After all, she's a beauty. What a pity to tarnish her good looks."

Ganymede, the man behind Will, chuckled dryly.

"Slaves have no need for looks, Captain," he said.

Will's veins boiled with rage. As the hairs on his arms stood on end, he realized invisible Alex must have felt exactly the same way.

"No, no. Let the girl speak. In fact, Jason, son. Tell me again what you said to me."

Will looked towards Jason, who had turned magenta with the effort of struggling against his restraints, or whatever it was that addled his mind.

"I… I meant to say nothing to you! You've poisoned me, your own blood!"

Will flinched. Nico had mentioned he and Jason had been childhood friends, and that their parents had known each other. But how could it be? Jason was a prisoner, he wasn't cooperating. He was tied, he had been drugged most likely. Could this really be the son of Thunderbeard? If this is how the Captain treated his son, then what kind of treatment would he, Hazel and Magnus expect from him?

"Aye," Thunderbeard spoke matter-of-factly. "But you have left me no choice. How can I trust you? You left to become a lower-ranking sailor. You became a Captain, of course, as captaincy flows through your veins, but you aren't feared. You have no guts. I had to have Octavian join your crew just so I could know if you were dumb enough to align yourself with a lost cause. Children are so easy to read. Now, remember what you said. You said this girl was meant to receive the curse. But then you changed your mind, didn't you, dear boy?"

"I—I—" Jason stammered.

"He claims you are wrong, dear girl!" Thunderbeard exclaimed, crossing the room to where Hazel sat and blowing smoke into her face.

Will felt a shiver go through him. What had Jason said? He wasn't entirely surprised when he saw Jason's face grow red with anguish. He was ashamed, and Will knew that feeling all too well.

Looking exceedingly proud of himself, Thunderbeard spat at Hazel's feet, then walked back to Jason, once again kneeling before him.

"Now, now. Be brave, boy. You said it was William Solace all along. You said the merchant had shown remnants of the powers of the Di Angelo brat. Now, is that not what you said, Jason?"

Jason's face contorted with pain. He seemed to be fighting against a demon that had taken possession of his body.

"We have two Williams here, awaiting your judgment. Tell me, Jason. Which one of them is William Solace?"

"William… Solace!" Jason screamed, but his eyes weren't open. He shook his head left and right, as if trying to rid himself of lice.

Thunderbeard growled, his nostrils flaring as he turned to Hazel, who looked resolutely back into Thunderbeard's eyes, but even Will could see her chin begin to tremble.

"Will it be you, then, who tells me the truth? Who is William Solace?"

"I—I" Hazel stammered.

"I am!" Magnus bellowed, and Will was quick to join in.

"I am!" he yelled.

"Liars!" the Captain thundered.

"I am not lying!" Hazel yelled back, and Will was surprised to hear such force in her voice. "William Solace is not but Nico's lover, and that be all! He is unimportant! I am the blood relation, and I have the curse of Angelica flowing through my veins! Either way, Nico will come. Be it for me, or him. Rest assured he will come, and when he does, you will meet your end! But if you kill me, Thunderbeard, Nico will know! He will feel my death through the curse, and he will flee! He will not come if he knows I am dead! Do you understand what that means? He will not come to collect a corpse! And you…" Hazel began to laugh, and it was the eeriest sound Will had ever heard. "You will never find him again!"

Thunderbeard's frame began to shake, as if he was doing all he could to stop himself from throttling Hazel into an early grave.

He turned, his bright blue eyes going from Magnus to Will.

"A lover!" he bellowed into the room, his rage barely contained. "My, my, of course. The plot thickens. Two possible recipients of the curse. A blood relative, and a lover. How convenient is this for me. Of course, you could all be lying. What proof is there that you have started to share the curse with Di Angelo? There isn't any!"

Behind Will, Ganymede drew breath.

"Get rid of them, Captain! We will deal with Di Angelo when the time comes—"

"SILENCE!" Thunderbeard roared and the candles in the chandelier flickered.

"I am he!" whimpered Magnus, his mouth dripping blood. "And if you kill me, Nico will know! He will know and he will not come to you anymore!"

"No! I am he!" Will exclaimed just as quickly, stunned by Magnus's claims. He wouldn't let Magnus take the blame, he wouldn't! Above everything else, he was sure of one thing. If he died—not Hazel, not Magnus, but him—then Nico would know for sure! "It is me!"

Will saw Alex appear in his mind, his face apoplectic with rage. Before him, Thunderbeard mirrored his expression. Will blinked. Alex appeared to be making flying motions with his arms, right behind Thunderbeard's back. The bird! he exclaimed. The bird! Let me get the bird! just as Thunderbeared took a threatening step in his direction, his eyes bloodshot.

Ganymede huffed, but Will thought he heard him take a step back. But Will wasn't afraid, and from what he had seen thus far, Hazel wasn't either. He looked into the corner of the room where the bird began to rattle the cage as if it too was behind Alex's plan.

Thunderbeard returned to the center of the room, took a deep breath and screamed. "WILLIAM SOLACE!"

"I AM HE!"

"GET THE BIRD!"

"HE IS NOTHING!"

Magnus, Will and Hazel yelled at the same time, and for a second, the candles flickered, casting an intermittent light around the room before they went out completely. In the darkness, the cabin began to shake, as if the ship's hull had collided against something solid. Jason tumbled over in his chair, and Ganymede stepped forward, his blade unsheathed.

But everyone's eyes were suddenly drawn to a ghostly form that appeared around Thunderbeard, who faltered as it made two turns around his body. Then the wispy light positively flew across the room and slammed against the bird cage. The bird screeched, then exploded out of the cage, flying like a beam of light around the room before it smashed against the window in the back and flew out of sight.

Will screamed, but then again, everyone was screaming. Thunderbeard was growling with rage, and next to him, Ganymede was slashing his sword at thin air. When Will looked up again, Thunderbeard was looking right at him, the whites of his eyes tinted red.

"Captain, the ghost! The curse! There is something in this room, I saw a flicker of it before… I—"

But Thunderbeard had reached across the room towards Will. With his other hand, he reached and found Magnus. He turned his head, growling as loud as he could in Hazel's direction.

"Who did this? Who holds the curse?" He roared.

Within two seconds, he'd taken Magnus and Will's necks in his hands, dragging them across the room as if they had been nothing but kittens, setting their chairs at either side of Hazel, who shook like a leaf.

"Captain! Just get rid of them! Kill the lot and save yourself the trouble—" the man called Ganymede exclaimed, but Thunderbeard roared at him.

"If I kill them all, what will I have left? One of them holds the curse! One of them is a recipient! If I kill them, Di Angelo will know! The curse, I feel the ring's power in this room! Do you understand, Ganymede? One of them bears the curse, one of them speaks the truth! But who is it? Should I kill them all? I will have nothing left, nothing! And Di Angelo will never show his face again!"

He bellowed these words so close to Will, he could feel Thunderbeard's spit hitting him on the face, but Will—and Magnus and Hazel—all stood their ground. They had him. They had him. He couldn't touch them.

"Captain! We have more prisoners, we can interrogate them!"

"And what would be the point of that, you useless scum!"

Ganymede frowned at the insult, but held his head up high. "Torture. One of them might speak if they see one of their mates slowly dissected. Allow me the honor. I am not squeamish, you know this."

Thunderbeard took a few calming breaths.

To his side, Will felt Hazel shudder. To his other side, Magnus whimpered. He was right. None of them would stand for the torture of Frank Zhang… or the other girl, whose identity Will still didn't know. Was it Annabeth? Reyna? The other bloodthirsty girl? But it didn't matter. He couldn't possibly withstand it either.

Thunderbeard was gasping for breath, his face going from Will's to Magnus's to Hazel's. Will could smell Thunderbeard's poisonous breath on his face and he knew so could the others. Suddenly, Will felt Thunderbeard's mighty grasp around his neck falter, as if he couldn't bring himself to go a step further.

It was like he said. If he killed them all, Nico wouldn't come.

"Get the other prisoners. Bring them to me," he said, letting go of their necks. He turned to where Jason lay on the floor, the aimed a kick straight at his stomach.

Jason spat blood, then mouthed something Will couldn't make out.

"Because you have brought shame to my name, Jason Grace. But I will allow you to watch as I slowly dismember your other mates. Fortunately, as I am told, there are still two others left onboard. That's four arms, four legs. Twenty fingers, twenty toes. And I hear one of them is a girl. How lucky am I?"

Jason coughed and shook his head, but soon enough, his eyes found Will's.

This time, Will could make out the words he mouthed at him.

I'm sorry.

Will blinked and was surprised to feel tears run down his face.

"It's okay," he whispered, and watched Jason's face crumple with shame.

Too much. It was all too much to handle. He couldn't expect Nico to suddenly appear with an army of ghosts and save them all. Not with his ring here, in that bastard's finger. He closed his eyes and thought of Alex, but found not an echo in response.

It wasn't two minutes, while Thunderbeard drank from a golden goblet, when the man called Ganymede ran back into the room, his face pale as a sheet of canvas under the full moon.

"Captain!"

Thunderbeard growled.

"You sound like you bring bad news. You better watch your mouth, for I am feeling like I will collect fingers no matter what," he threatened.

Ganymede swallowed, then took a step back towards the door.

"The—the prisoners… they aren't in their cells."

Will jolted upright, and next to him, he felt Hazel and Magnus do the same.

Thunderbeard got to his feet slowly, downed the contents of his goblet and tossed the thing at Ganymede.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY? WHERE ARE THEY? FIND THEM!"