Note: The English translation for this chapter's song will be included at the end of the chapter. Also, I had a really difficult time finding a song for this chapter, so I hope this one is okay! It more fits the vibes for the second part of this chapter, but feel free to listen to it for any part you like. I don't mind :)
NPOV
Track: Mantieni il Bacio, Michele Bravi
I tell Will that he doesn't have to fly me home, but he insists. I'm so annoyed by this development that my palms are sweaty and there are butterflies in my stomach. And I can't stop thinking about his fingers tracing patterns into my skin. He's so gentle. Are friends usually that gentle with each other?
No, gentle isn't the right word.
Tender. Do friends usually tenderly run their fingers from your wrist to your fingertips and back again? I wasn't even aware that Will and I are friends until, like, today. Yesterday, I'm pretty sure we were enemies. Although he did save me from Luke...
But he also burned me! (Though that was mostly my fault. He didn't exactly throw the light at me, I walked through it intentionally.)
I am way out of my depth.
"And I'm glad to be flying with you," he says as we rise above the clouds, "because when else will I get a chance to talk to you more about reporting Luke's bullying? You never answered me when I mentioned talking to a school counselor about it. I mean, you have options."
He's golden up here. Is that a result of his powers? The caustic part of me thinks that maybe this is all part of his plan. Tease me, befriend me, flirt with me, and then report me to the police when I least expect. Great job, Nico! You're thinking too much about holding your enemies hand! Amazing work. I'm sure Bianca and Hazel would be so glad you're using your time so productively.
Will bumps his shoulder against me, and he looks worried. Right. He was talking, but I was not listening.
"Nico. You can't just ignore me on this. It's important that you find help," he says. "They tried to kill you last night. This isn't a case of middle-school name-calling. This is really serious, and I'm worried about you."
He reaches his hand out to mine to try to support me, and I feel a little lightheaded just from the gesture. I pull my hand toward my chest, and his face falls. Sometimes it seems like he only has two emotions: happy or heartbroken. He's smiling like the sun until there's bad news, and then his entire face just looks so goddamn sad. Like this is the worst news he's ever heard. Like a puppy just died in his arms.
"Well, you should stop worrying," I deadpan. "I'm fine."
He shakes his head solemnly. "Yeah, you can't lie to me, Mr. Dark Lord." Oh, we're doing this nickname thing again? Kill me now. "I literally witnessed your near-murder less than twenty-four hours ago, so you're going to have to do a lot better than 'I'm fine.'"
I'm tired of him. I'm also regretting not letting him take my hand. "Have you ever considered staying out of my business? Like, even for a second?"
"Nope!" he says, and he's back to being cheery. He falls an inch or two, so I grab him by the arm to help lift him again. I let go as soon as he's back on my level. "As your designated arch-nemesis-slash-new-friend, I'm pretty sure I need to be involved in this. They can't get away with what they're doing to you, Nico. You can't let them."
Finally, I snap, "I don't let them get away with anything—I don't have a choice. If I report them, what do you think they're going to do to me?"
Will shrugs. "Stop trying to kill you?"
"They'll go to the police, Will. If I report them, they will report me." I start to droop in the air. Will hoists me back up and then slips his hand down to mine again. This time I sigh and let him take it.
"...I hadn't thought of that," he says quietly. "I'm sorry. What can I do to help? What if they come back?"
We're coming up on my house now, I think. I dip below the clouds to check how close we are—I can spot it in the maze of neighborhoods. Will, still holding my hand, is squinting at the houses like he can't quite remember which one is mine.
"If they come back, I guess I just die," I say. "My house is just up here. My mom should be at work—if you're going to help me try to decipher the notes we found, you can come with me. Otherwise, I'm good now."
"Woah, hey," Will stops in midair, and his hand on mine means I am jerked to a stop, too. I glare at him. Why are we stopping here? We're so close to my house, I'm almost ready to dive.
I tug my arm, trying to prod him along.
He does the same to me, and I get pulled closer to him. He takes my other hand now, too. "Don't talk about your death like it's a casual thing," he says, and he actually does sound kind of angry—he's trying to be nice about it, but there's an undertone in his voice that implies this is much more upsetting than he's letting on. "Death is not a casual thing. For you or for the people you leave behind."
"Death is death," I counter boredly. "I'm not saying I want to die—I don't. I have things to do before I can die, at least. But I can't really help if I die, can I? Especially if someone is actively trying to make it happen."
"You could try harder to fight it!" he protests, and he squeezes my hand. "You always seem to hold back when you're fighting. Next time they attack, I want to see you go all out—don't you dare hold back even the tiniest bit of your power. If you can evade police for a year, you can evade a group of dumb teenage boys." He's tracing patterns in my hand again. I'm wondering if friends do that again. I guess I wouldn't know.
"And you can ask for help," he continues. "I'll back you up any time you need me. I don't care how many times I have to blind them; I'll do it permanently if it means saving your life. Got it?"
I stare at his face. His deep blue eyes are looking right back at me—waiting for an answer. He's really serious about this.
"Fine," I agree finally. "Okay."
"Great," he says. "I'm going to hold you to this. Now, I believe we were going to your house?"
He lets go of one of my hands, and I dive.
He screams because he gets pulled down with me, plummeting to the ground. The first few times, this was terrifying—now it's an adrenaline rush. I laugh as the air rushes past me, whipping my hair around. It is on very rare occasions like this when not floating becomes the more difficult task—I'm having so much fun, my soul is ready to soar, or whatever Hecate told me.
When we're close to the ground, I let the fun of it slow me down, and then I'm hovering a few inches above the ground, out of breath and laughing. Will is clutching me like a terrified cat, breathing hard.
"Déjà vu," I tease as he melts off me.
He's out of breath too, but despite his fear, he's smiling again. "That was terrifying. Now I really am convinced you want to die."
"Lighten up—it was fun," I say. I keep my head down and slip through the front door as quickly as I can. None of the neighbors should be home right now—they should be at work and school—but I can never be too careful.
Will hurries behind me. He's still smiling. I don't think he ever stops. Happy might just be his default state. That would be nice.
I don't dwell on it.
I kick my shoes off at the door, and Will copies me. It feels more than a little bizarre to be walking around in my Ghost King suit but no shoes. I'm not willing to take off the suit or mask though—not while Will is around. I know he's promised to help me, and I know he could report me already without knowing what my face looks like. That doesn't make me any more willing to share my remaining secrets with him. If he turns on me, the less he knows, the easier it'll be to turn things back in my favor.
I have the instinct to show him around, which doesn't make any sense because, first of all, he's already been here. And second of all, he's only here now to help me decipher the notes we found. He doesn't exactly need a wonderful understanding of the floorplan of my house for that.
I take him into the kitchen and gesture at the dining table. "Take a seat. Do you drink lemonade?"
His smile is brighter than his powers. "Yes! I love lemonade. Thank you, Nico."
There's something satisfying about correctly guessing what somebody likes. I'm sure that's why my heart skips a beat at his happy expression. I'm sure the blush spreading across my neck and cheeks is just from professional appreciation of the guy!
...I really am way out of my depth.
I pour our lemonade, and for a brief moment, I'm reminded of when the police used to show up and sit at this table and interrogate me like I was a suspect. Asking those same questions over and over until I was dizzy, until they had drudged up every bad memory from the corners of my mind.
Sitting at this table with Will doesn't feel like that. It feels like spreading what I know between us and solemnly working together until we find the answer. It feels like he cares about this rather than just doing it because he has to.
I set down the lemonade and then drop the crumpled notes between us. I open one up again and spread it flat on the table.
Underworld Ores — 1.6 — 23:00
"Underworld Ores is the gem company whose CEO was embezzling funds, right?" I say, turning the note so Will can see which one I'm looking at. "You think the embezzlement is connected to the Stolls somehow?"
His lips are pinched together, focused. "It must be. It seems like too much of a coincidence to not be connected, right?" He squints at the note. "What do the numbers mean though?"
"23:00 is probably a time," I point out. "Maybe that makes 1.6 a date? January sixth?"
Will pulls out a phone from the pockets on the legs of his suit. That's another nice thing about Hecate's suits—she gives us pockets. She muttered something about being sick of having no pockets on her own clothing when she pointed them out to me.
"January sixth was Friday," Will says, showing me his phone calendar. "Maybe that was the date that the payment from that Hades dude was due? Then the final note says he missed the payment." His eyes skip from one note to the next, trying to piece together the puzzle. "So, if the note with the numbers is a date and time, maybe they were meeting to collect his payment at Underworld Ores. Then he didn't pay—and so they're going forward with another plan now."
I nod along as he talks. Everything he's saying makes sense. I think Hades is the suspicious one here—maybe he's been paying the Stolls to commit crimes for him. I know we're still missing a huge portion of this puzzle, but my nerves are tingling with excitement—we're finally getting somewhere. Glancing up at Will's focused blue eyes, I realize that he has done more for me in twenty-four hours than the police did in almost a decade.
"I'm switching up my break-in schedule, then," I say. "I'm going to Underworld Ores tomorrow night—"
"We are going to Underworld Ores tomorrow night," Will corrects, and a small smile briefly tugs at my lips.
"Right. We will go to Underworld Ores tomorrow. I don't have time to research the layout—now that they know I'm on their trail, they might take drastic measures with H—uh, my sister. It'll be riskier for us, but if we wait, we put her in a lot of danger."
He shrugs. "Fine by me. But, uh, I actually have a...connection to Underworld Ores, so I've been there before. I know the layout. Does that help cut down on the preparation you normally do?"
And that about snaps the trust I had placed in him. What connection? With my luck, his dad is the greedy CEO, or something. How can I possibly walk into this building with him, following his lead, if he has ties to the organization that is connected to my sister's kidnapping?
I don't like this at all. I shouldn't have agreed to let him help. For all I know, the kidnappers sent Will to fight me to prevent me from finding Hazel. I've been working alone for so long—and risks like this remind me why.
I call shadows to my palms, ready for a fight right here in my kitchen. "What connection?"
He shakes his head. "Nope. If you get to keep your identity a secret, I get to protect mine, too. You're way too good at stalking people. If I tell you this, I just know you would Google your heart out and somehow figure out who I am."
I sharpen the shadows in my hands, forming makeshift daggers in my hand. I'm out of my chair now, heart thundering, and I hold the blade to his throat. "Your sister's life isn't on the line here. If I can't trust you completely, you are not coming with me. What connection do you have to Underworld Ores?"
He frowns in annoyance at the threat on his life. He doesn't answer at first, and I'm about to tell him to leave my house. I mean, I can't be working with a guy who's potentially allied with the kidnappers. No matter how cheery and bright.
When he finally answers, it's with a simple, "My mother works there."
I put more pressure on the blade, and beads of blood form on the dagger. Is his mother the CEO? If Hades is also an employee at Underworld Ores, then Will's mother almost certainly knows him. His mother could even be the kidnapper, for all I know!
When he realizes I'm not letting him get away with such a vague answer, he sighs and says, "My mother is a custodian there."
Oh. A custodian. My whole body relaxes, and my drumming heart finally calms down. A custodian does not have the intel or money required to run an operation like this. Hiring the Stolls for something like a kidnapping would be way too expensive for a custodian to afford, and a custodian would not be included in any of the planning that the higher-ups of Underworld Ores might be doing. I mean, if the CEO embezzlement is related to this issue at all, then only a very tightly knit group of employees would ever find out about it. People like Will's mother would be swept up into the drama without ever knowing what is happening.
I dissolve my daggers, and Will's smile is back as if he had never been threatened at all. At least that means he won't hold a grudge over it, I guess.
I realize Will's glass of lemonade is empty. I stand up to refill his cup, and his smile brightens even more. How does he get so happy over something as small as another glass of lemonade?
"What does your mom do?" Will asks.
"I am not sharing that information," I say as I pour the glass.
"Then share something else," Will offers. He's resting his head on his hands while he watches me set his drink down in front of him. "I told you something about me. Wouldn't a trade be fair?"
No. No, a trade is not fair—if he gets outed as Sunburst, he'll get a paparazzi at his door. If I get outed as the Ghost King, I'll get handcuffs, and Hazel will never get freed.
My glare must not be enough to convey my feelings on the matter because he's still smiling at me like this is a great idea.
"The trade is that you tell me what your connection is, and I don't commit homicide," I tell him.
He laughs like it's a joke. I am not joking.
"Fine," he says, and his eyes are sparkling. "I'll tell you another fact—and this one can be in exchange for one about you. I want to know about you, Nico."
"What if I don't want to be known?"
He ignores me and plows on, telling me about how he grew up in Austin, Texas, in a small apartment. He tells me about how much hotter it is in Texas, and then he tells me about how he does miss the southern sun. I find myself getting lost in his words, and it feels dangerously close to friendship when he talks like this.
"When we moved here, it was the beginning of winter, and I was so devastated by the lack of sun, I cried about it," Will tells me. "Luckily, winter does not last forever, and I've found friends here that make it more tolerable."
"Why did you move?" I ask.
He shoots me a grin. "Hey, now—that's another piece of valuable information about me. I've told you about Texas—it's your turn to tell me something about you. You don't have to tell me anything that would give you away. I just want to know more about you than that you're a stubborn, grumpy superhero."
"Wow, thanks," I grumble, trying hard to ignore the way my heart stutters when he calls me a superhero. And then I realize I'm proving his point. I am a terribly spiteful person, so just to be petty, I follow up with a large, artificial smile like what grumpy kids do for family photos. He actually laughs at that. Unrestrained, joyful laughter that makes me smile again. Am I enjoying his company right now? Are we friends? Is it even possible for a villain and a hero to be friends?
Except Will doesn't seem to think I'm a villain anymore.
"I guess I can tell you about my family," I say. "My mom moved from Italy. She still speaks Italian to me sometimes, though I'm not as good at Italian as I am at English. Sometimes I wish that she would have raised me speaking only Italian at home so I could have learned the language more thoroughly."
He hasn't reached for his lemonade yet, too focused on hearing what I have to say. "So how well do you know Italian?"
"Well enough to be considered fluent and bad enough that I would be stressed about messing up in embarrassing ways the entire time I'm talking to a stranger in Italian."
He finally takes a sip of his lemonade, pondering. Then he asks, "Maybe someday, after we find your sister, you could teach me some Italian."
I blink at him. He's planning to still be talking to me after we find Hazel? I mean, why? There would be no goal to work toward anymore.
"Maybe," I say finally. "Now, your turn. Why did you move from Texas?"
"Ah, no. I didn't get to choose which question you answered, did I?" Will asks, and I notice that his blinding smile has been toned down a little. My stomach roils. If we're friends, am I messing it up? Have I upset him?
I'm also now even more curious about why he moved from Texas. Do most people keep that kind of thing a secret? I mean, I know it probably wasn't for his mom's work, but I hadn't assumed it was something personal, either. People move for all sorts of reasons.
"What's your fun fact, then?" I ask.
He checks his phone again, and the time lights up his lockscreen. "My fun fact is that it's time for me to go so that I can get changed and get home in time to tell my parents I was at school all day." He's already heading for the door when he pauses, turns back, and winks. "But I'm glad you want to know so much about me, Nico."
"Shut up," I say, heat spreading up my neck again. "You were the one who suggested this!"
He laughs heartily. Then he gives me a small nod, and I wave as he leaves through the front door.
My heart is still pounding. If Will is my friend, I don't think it's normal for my heart to be acting like this even after he leaves.
--
That evening, my mother gets home, and my heart is pounding for an entirely different reason. I'm trying to do some research on the Underworld Ores headquarters when I hear the front door open, and all my nervousness from this morning returns. Why had I allowed my mom to put off this conversation? I don't want to talk about this now. I don't want to talk about it ever.
"Niccolò!" comes her voice, and it sounds angrier than I've ever heard her before. I feel sick—she hadn't seemed angry this morning. Why would she be angry now?
But it makes sense that she would be angry. I mean, who wouldn't be? She just found out her son is one of the most infamous villains in the city. I break into people's houses, and the media portrays me as a heartless monster who would kill children given the chance. Of course I've never hurt anyone—but the media certainly doesn't admit that.
I stand up. I have to face her eventually.
I meet her in the living room, where there are tears running down her face. I'm too nervous to look her in the eyes, so I look where her fury comes to a point right between her eyebrows instead.
"I know you're mad that I'm the Ghost King, and I don't blame you," I say, putting my hands in the air to try to remind her that I'm her son—I'm not a threat. "But—"
She scowls. "I'm not angry over you being the Ghost King, Nico. I'm angry that you kidnapped someone!"
--
It took several minutes of asking nonsensical questions before I finally got my mom to tell me where she had heard the rumor that I had kidnapped someone. When she sees my expression and realizes I really have no idea what she's talking about, she finally calms down enough to talk.
"All the news channels I checked were saying that the Ghost King kidnapped a woman named Hecate. That wasn't you?"
I freeze. Hecate was kidnapped? Who could possibly have a problem with Hecate—I mean, she's the nicest woman ever. And I owe her so much after she gave me my suit at no cost.
"No, I would never wish any harm upon Hecate," I promise. "I owe her a lot—she was very kind to me. Who is blaming me for that?"
My mother relaxes visibly, and her anger washes away like rain down a storm drain. "Oh. Of course. I'm sorry—I should have known you wouldn't. But Nico—the whole city is blaming you for this. They couldn't figure out who the kidnapper was, so they assumed it must have been you. That kind of thing is a serious accusation to have leveled against you."
I clench my fists. Of course the entire city is pinning this on me. That means the real kidnappers will get away with it! Now I have two people to save—God knows the police will fail her.
My mother sees my frustration and her expression softens. She takes me by the hands and leads me to the couch, sitting down and patting the spot next to her. She lays one of her warm hands on my cheek, and I lean into her touch. Normally, I'm not a big fan of touch, but these last few days have been emotionally exhausting, and I'm honestly just glad that she hasn't tried to kick me out of the house or anything for being a supervillain.
"Niccolò," my mother says softly, "are you sure that you are happy as the Ghost King? Rumors like these... They might not stop at this kidnapping. I don't want you to be unhappy because the city cannot see you as you are."
"It doesn't matter if I'm happy as the Ghost King," I mutter.
She pulls me closer until my head rests on her shoulder. She runs her hand up and down my back, and it's so calming, and I haven't experienced this since I was a kid. It's not my mother's fault—she's very loving and kind. It's usually me who pushes her away.
She takes a shuddering, sad breath. "Amore, you kill me when you say things like that. I am your mother—your happiness matters to me more than anything else in the world."
I shake my head, eyes shut tight against the tears that are burning my eyes. "Not more than anything."
"Yes, Nico—more than anything."
"I'm searching for Hazel, Mamma."
The hand on my back stills—her entire body freezes. I push myself off her slightly, just enough to check her expression to see how she feels about this. Her lips are slightly parted in surprise, her eyes wide.
"Mamma?" I ask, and suddenly my hands are clammy.
Her eyes flutter shut, and she closes her lips into a thin line. "Nico... I love you. And I love Hazel. But...it has been a decade. There is no guarantee that Hazel is even in the city anymore—"
My entire body is rigid. "No."
Tears are flowing down my mother's face, and she stares at the ceiling instead of at me. "And I will never assume my daughter is dead—I refuse to give up on the possibility that she is still out there. But Nico, you risk your life for this—those boys the other day attacked you over this, correct? I do not wish to trade one child's life for another."
I push myself off her. "Hazel is alive, and I'm going to find her, and I don't care if I get killed in the process. I'm not going to let anything get in my way until Hazel is back home again."
I stand up, trying to get control of my emotions again. I was right—I was not ready for this conversation. And the fact that she's trying to convince me to give up on Hazel—! Not now, not when we've just found a lead. Not ever, not even if I spend the rest of my life searching every single building in the city. I'll tear down skyscrapers brick by brick if it means I find my sister and make her safe again.
My mother leans forward on the couch, hands clasped together like she's praying. Maybe she is. "Nico, you cannot risk yourself like this. I can't lose another child—"
"I can't lose another sister!" It comes out mean and loud—I'm breathing hard and my stomach is a pit of dread. My mother and I do not speak for several long, agonizing moments. I'm going to be in so much trouble later for yelling at her.
My mother takes a long breath, but it sounds more like a sob. "Nico, I will never stop you from doing what is right for you—but I want you to know that I love you, okay? And you do not have to do this. It is not your responsibility to save what the police have lost—it is not your responsibility to fix my mistakes."
At first, that confuses me. Her mistakes? She wasn't even there when Hazel was kidnapped; how could it be her fault.
Then it dawns on me. She had told us we could go shopping downtown for the first time; after weeks of begging from Bianca, my mother had finally agreed that since Bianca was older, we could explore the city together so long as we were responsible.
She regrets telling us it would be okay to go downtown. Has she carried that guilt for forever? Will it ever be lifted off her shoulders?
My mother stands up, and her hands hold my face. She plants a kiss on the top of my head. "Ti amerò per sempre. If I cannot convince you to follow a safer path, then all I can say is that I am so sorry for this life that I have caused you. I hope that one day, you might be able to forgive me."
She holds me to her chest for a moment longer, and I never want this moment to end. I want her warm embrace to warm me forever—can't I be a child again, with my mother holding me? With Bianca complaining that I'm following her around and with Hazel giggling over her own babbling? Why must everything change?
My mother lets go, murmurs that she is going to sleep early tonight, and starts to leave the room. Once she is just out of view, she says to me, "Goodnight, Nico. I love you—be safe."
And her footfalls echo into her bedroom. I hear her door close.
I reach up to touch my cheek, and my fingertips come away wet with tears.
Word count: 4850
Song Translation:
(Warning: i put it into google translate because I actually don't know Italian, I just know enough Spanish and French to get by in Italian. So trying to translate this song myself would take me forever trying to decode everything.)
The title translates to "Keep the Kiss."
[Verse 1]
In the darkness, in the light of day
In perfect silence while it rains cats and dogs
At sea level above the roof of the world
Light years away or one second away
And so it goes on forever, losing count
[Pre-Chorus]
Keep the kiss beyond the error of time
Make it something eternal
Don't let even a single fragment fall
Like dust on the floor
Don't separate your lips even for a single second
And don't get distracted by background noise
Because in the end every time
It is love that saves us from the wound of the world
[Refrain]
And you only feel your heart and evil no longer exists
And there is no more pain, only me, only you
This silence speaks of a thousand words
And I would sit here listening to you for hours
For years or just a second
And if you look at me I realize it
Which in the end every time
It is only love that saves us from the hurt of the world
[Verse 2]
Protect it down to the roots
From indecisive steps and sudden storms
From moments of crisis and unhappy jokes
From those people who pretend to be friends
From the envy of others, from ignorant judgments
From the crazy splinters that arrive
Everywhere
[Pre-Chorus]
Keep the kiss beyond the error of time
Make it something eternal
Don't let even a single fragment fall
Like dust on the floor
Don't separate your lips even for a single second
And don't get distracted by background noise
Because in the end every time
It is love that saves us from the wound of the world
[Refrain]
And you only feel your heart and evil no longer exists
And there is no more pain, only me, only you
This silence speaks of a thousand words
And I would sit here listening to you for hours
For years or just a second
And now that you look at me I realize it
Which in the end every time
It is only love that saves us from the hurt of the world
[Post-Chorus]
And from the repetition of days that are not worth a memory
Hold the kiss and don't leave it even for a second
And the longer I stay here watching you, the more I realize it
It is love that saves us from the wound of the world