It was that time of day, the time when the last rays of sunlight are swallowed up by the evening shadows, the time when the demons in hiding come out to play. It was no place for a Golden Boy, the son of the most powerful Greek god in all the world.

And yet Jason Grace, son of Zeus, found himself trotting up the stairs and onto the top deck of the Argo II.

And, even more surprisingly, he wasn't alone.

"Hey, Nico," greeted Jason warily. He'd always been a little afraid of the out-of-control, unpredictable son of Hades. Now, with Diocletian's scepter, Nico was scarier than ever.

Nico di Angelo turned to face Jason. He was a little off-putting, physically anyways. He had a hard mouth, pale skin, and obsidian black eyes. His hair was decently long and windswept, and his thin, bare arms were taut with muscle. As usual, he was silent, acknowledging Jason with a simple nod.

"So..." Jason searched for something to talk about. He never knew what to say when he was alone with Nico. Damn, the kid was scary. "Couldn't sleep?"

"Didn't try." Nico's voice was quiet, low, dangerous. He had the air of someone who'd had to grow up too quickly. Jason remembered what Percy had told him. Before Bianca's death, Nico was a little kid. When she died, something inside him broke. It was like he aged fifty years. It was like he lost his soul.

"Oh." There was nothing more to say on the subject. Nico's short answer had made sure of that. "Aren't you cold?"

Nico turned to look at him, his dark eyes flashing with deep dislike. "No." The answer was cold, short, practically dripping with loathing. The tone sent cold shivers down Jason's back. It was rare that anyone scared him, but Nico seemed to hold an unseen advantage over him.

"Gods, Nico, why do you hate me so much?"

The tense, cold politeness between them broke. "Oh, I don't know," snarled Nico sarcastically. "Maybe because you're so perfect, so mature, so trusted? Maybe because the only reason that Percy and I are shunned is because you're there?"

Jason was stunned. It was like Nico's words had stolen the breath right from his lungs. "You and Percy aren't-"

"Oh? I suppose you wouldn't know." Nico kicked the railing angrily. "He may not hate you as much as me, but there's definitely resentment. We were born to carry on our fathers' struggle for power. I hate you because you belong, Jason. I hate you because you're everyone's Golden Boy, everyone's favorite. I had to teach myself how to kill monsters, how to fight with a sword, how to shadow-travel, how to protect myself from my own father!

"You're loved. You're accepted. Me, I have no chance. I symbolize death and destruction. I'm everything that's wrong with this world. The only reason I'm still here is because there are people here that I can't lose. Not again."

Jason said nothing. What was there to say, anyway? If he denied it, Nico would blow up in his face. If he accepted it, he would look vain. Best to keep silent. And yet...

"You are accepted, Nico," he said tentatively.

Worst idea ever.

Nico slammed the base of Diocletian's scepter into the deck, and the entire ship shuddered. Black tendrils twisted their way across the deck towards Jason, who stumbled backwards. The tendrils pressed him back until he was against a wooden pole, and they twisted upwards, wrapping around him and securing him in place.

"That's it," snarled Nico. "I'm done with all your crap. Rest assured, you won't see me again." With that, he turned away, stepping into the shadows and disappearing.

Jason gaped, searching the deck frantically with his blue eyes for some sign that Nico had been kidding. But it was useless.

The Ghost King was gone.