Haunted || Leo Valdez

95 - We're Following the Spirit, the Spirit, the Spirit ~

As they approached the fiery grey apparition, Rebecca was fairly sure it was a garden-variety wraith – a lost soul who had died in pain.

"Shouldn't be a problem," she murmured.

Nico, however, looked tense. His hand was clenched on his sword, and tendrils of darkness were now spreading out from his feet, killing all the weeds between the cobblestones.

Frowning, Rebecca reached out and placed a hand on Nico's shoulder, stopping him. "Are you okay? Do you want to stay and I'll see what's up with the spirit?" She didn't really want to go without anyone, but if her brother was feeling overwhelmed she was more than willing to suck it up and follow the ghost by herself.

"No," Nico said quietly. "I just... I can't stop thinking about Croatia. Freaking Cupid, throwing me around and making me admit that I have — had — a crush on Percy."

"That was a terrible thing for him to do," Rebecca said. "I know you would've been willing to come out on your own terms, when you were ready. But Cupid was cruel, forcing you to tell us about your crush just for his own amusement... It makes me angry, too. I can't imagine how you feel about it."

"Thanks, Becca," Nico muttered, and Rebecca's heart warmed a little at his use of her old nickname. He hadn't called her Becca in a long time. "I'm glad you're here. I don't think I could do this without you."

Rebecca smiled, feeling a bit guilty for wishing she was back on the Argo II with Leo earlier. "You are so strong, Nico. I believe you could do anything you put your mind to."

When they reached the ghost, Rebecca noticed it wore a monk's habit — sandals, woolen robes and a wooden cross around his neck. Grey flames swirled around him — burning his sleeves, blistering his face, turning his eyebrows to ashes. He seemed to be stuck in the moment of his immolation, like a black-and-white video on a permanent loop.

"You were burned alive," Nico sensed. "Probably in the Middle Ages?"

The ghost's face distorted in a silent scream of agony, but his eyes looked bored, even a little annoyed, as if the scream was just an automatic reflex he couldn't control, like hiccuping.

"What do you want of us?" Rebecca asked.

The ghost gestured for Nico and Rebecca to follow. It turned and walked through the open gateway. Rebecca glanced back at Coach Hedge. The satyr just made a shooing gesture like, Go. Do your Underworld thing.

"Okay, then," Rebecca said. "Following the ghost."

Nico sighed. "Yyyep."

They trailed the ghost through the streets of Évora. It wasn't easy to maintain a lighthearted conversation whilst following the apparition of a monk who'd burned to death centuries ago, but if anyone could do it, it was probably Rebecca and Nico. They likely could've cheerfully discussed the weather while having a picnic in the Fields of Punishment while its inhabitants screamed in agony in the background. Not that they'd ever tried — or planned to try.

They zigzagged through narrow cobblestone walkways, past courtyards with potted hibiscus trees and white stucco buildings with butterscotch trim and wrought-iron balconies. No one noticed the ghost, but the locals looked askance at the siblings. A young girl with a fox terrier crossed the street to avoid him. Her dog growled, the hair on its back standing straight up like a dorsal fin.

"Leo calls small dogs like that 'dropkick dogs,' " Rebecca told Nico as they watched the terrier bark at them. "Chihuahuas and Yorkies... you know, tiny dogs."

"Like Pomeranians?" Nico asked. "And, uh... those Maltese dogs?"

"Yeah, all dropkick dogs."

"What does he call big dogs? Like St. Bernards and Huskies."