Chapter two – Mad eyes and a broken compass

I stare into the golden fire, watching the wild dance of the flames, while the heat dries my damp clothes. Inside me, I can feel my very soul thawing from the dormant state it has been in for so many years. For the first time in what seems like forever, I feel slightly… something.

The night is quiet, except from the distant sound of the waves and the muttering of the man opposite me. His eyes are filled with a glow that has little to do with the bonfire we made in the sand. I've seen that glow before, in the eyes of ragged sailors in the bars of Tortuga, men that speak in hushed voices, brimming with excitement, bending over maps with mystic symbols. That glow is the thrill of the chase, the pleasure of obsession – gold lust.

The man, who presented himself as Captain Jack Sparrow, is looking at a compass. He has been toying with that thing for hours and talking to himself, which does not bode well for his mental health in my opinion, especially when considering that the compass is most definitely broken. Earlier that evening, while building the fire, I sneaked a peak on it, and wasn't pointing north, even a landlubber like myself could see that.

I burry my naked feet in the cool white sand and consider my situation: I'm alone on a beach at night with a man with mad eyes and a broken compass, he is probably insane and possibly dangerous, I should be afraid, instead I feel… a pleasant tingling.

"Jack?" The muttering stops and he raises his head.

"Yeah?"

"What were we stealing again?" A yellow sparkle, as the light is reflected by the gold tooth in his wide, mischievous grin.

"Glad you asked, girlie. You see, this is really quite a special one…"

I shift closer to the fire as he retells the story from earlier today. We both know I haven't forgotten it since then, but it is just such a good story. The tingle in my stomach again, and this time I recognise it… excitement.