All of the food, drink and guests safely inside the Saxon longhouse, the party continued, and although Jess noticed Bors and Galahad smirking at Lancelot she decided to ignore it and not embarrass her new husband.

Dagonet was looking concernedly out of the door, frowning at the thunderstorm. "It's getting pretty violent out there,"

Bors shrugged. "That's why we came in here,"

Dagonet nodded, still looking out the window. "Yes, but I was thinking that it might be a good idea to bring our horses into the stable instead of leaving them tethered to that tree out on the field."

The knights, Arthur and Jessamine all crowded around the window to get a look, and then, as one, sprinted for the door.

Cynric sighed and shook his head. "Sarmatians,"

Jessamine and Arthur, being the least drunk, reached the tree before anyone else and slid their way in between the panicking horses. Bartatua turned to the sound of Jess's voice and then calmed down as she put a hand on his shoulder.

"I'll have to do the other horses before you, all right?"

He looked at her through his nostrils and laid his ears back at Tabiti, who had just tried to kick him.

Arthur fumbled with the knot holding Thagimasadas' reins and turned the horse around to face the stables, knowing that he would go straight for Bors as soon as he saw his master. Jess did the same with Tabiti, Papaeus and Argimpasa, and the three greys galloped hell-for-leather towards the now waiting Gawain, Galahad and Tristan. Lancelot and Dagonet came up to the tree as well, untying Api and Saka, and she and Arthur both dealt with their horses and mounted before starting to gallop back towards the longhouse stables.

Thunder exploded like an earthquake around them as a huge bolt of lightning struck the ground near the tree, and Palagius spooked, slipping on the now-wet turf and rolling sideways down a grassy bank with Arthur still in the saddle. Jess heard the crack of the horse's breaking leg bones as he slid and the scream of the dying animal, and turned Bartatua's head to face the direction of the disaster. No matter what the weather, you couldn't leave anyone after an accident like that, especially not a friend.

Lancelot and Dagonet had been too far away to hear anything, and Gawain had been in the stable, but Galahad and Tristan had been facing them and started sprinting towards Arthur, ignoring Lancelot's attempts to find out what was going on.

"Arthur?" Jess called, swinging off Bartatua's back in the pouring rain. "Oh, Gods, let him be alive. Arthur?"

"Jessamine?" she heard him call from further down the embankment, and she slid down in the mud – ruining her wedding dress in the process – and nearly tripped over the body of Palagius.

There was another huge crack of thunder and Bartatua whinnied in distress, sliding down the muddy slope on his knees. Jess looked at him in confusion. On his knees? What sort of horse did that? She shook her head at him and ran over to Arthur, who was laying a few metres away from his horse, on his back, breathing hard.

"Are you all right?" she asked him, kneeling beside him.

He didn't answer. "How's Palagius?"

She shook her head. "No horse could have survived that, Arthur. He's dead."

"Arthur!" Galahad shouted, stumbling down the muddy bank with Tristan in tow. "Thank the Gods you're alive!"

"Where's Lancelot?" she asked him.

Galahad waved an arm towards the house. "He's fetching Guinevere,"

"How are you?" Tristan asked Arthur, and he shook his head.

"I think I've broken all of my ribs,"

Jess sighed. "Better than your pelvis. Or your skull,"

A lightning bolt landed at the mouth of the gully they were standing on and Jess shook her head in disbelief. "What the hell is going on? Lightning is attracted to high places. This is a gully,"

There was silence as the four of them looked around at the enormous amount of pure metal in the small gully, making where they were standing essentially a large conduit for electricity.

"We have to get moving, Arthur," Galahad said desperately, helping him cautiously to sit up. "Can you walk?"

Arthur shook his head, and then looked as if he regretted it. "And I'm not leaving without my sword,"

Jess hurried over and unbuckled it from Palagius' saddle, trying not to look at the pool of blood that was spreading from the horse's head or at the crazy angle at which his neck was bent. Tristan and Galahad helped Arthur to his feet, and Jess felt the air go still around them. Bartatua could feel it, too, she could tell by the way he shifted uneasily, but the three boys seemed preoccupied, so she took the sword over and handed it to Arthur.

He dropped it, and they all bent to catch it, Jess holding onto Bartatua's reins as well.

In the moment when all four of them touched the sword, the world around them erupted in light, and the sound was enough to deafen, and then everything went black.

------------------------------

William Turner was working with the rest of the Flying Dutchman's crew, hauling on the rigging in the pouring rain, lightning crashing above and around them on the stormy sea. As one, the crewmates felt the air around grow still.

"Keep at your posts!" the bosun shouted, wielding his whip on an unfortunately close half-shellfish man.

They kept hauling, and Will closed his eyes as the enormous thunderclap obliterated all sound and the lightning both obscured all vision and caused every cell in his body to ache. He wondered vaguely if it had been attracted to the only person on the whole ship who wasn't cursed, and then everything went black.

-----------------------------

Former Commodore Norrington and former Lieutenant Gillette sat on a beach some way from the pirate city of Tortuga in the pouring rain. They weren't even drinking – yet. Norrington looked at the sea and wished that he had never even thought of proposing to Elizabeth. If he hadn't called her out to the balcony, she wouldn't have fallen off, and then she wouldn't have met Sparrow. And then they wouldn't have captured him and Turner wouldn't have been able to go to him for help and if none of that had happened Norrington would at least have had something. Anything.

Not that a job would have been much consolation if he still had it now, but it was more than nothing. That was the point, though; anything was more than nothing.

"Should we go in, sir?" Gillette asked him, trying to mop some of the water out of his face.

Norrington glared at him. "Don't call me sir."

Gillette frowned, and then nodded conspiratorially. "Oh, right. Wouldn't want to give away our disguise, eh si… I mean, James."

Norrington sighed. Gillette, despite his many good points – all of which seemed to be failing Norrington's mind at the moment – had gone slightly mad on the disastrous voyage which had taken them through the hurricane. His mind simply refused to believe that they had resigned their commissions, and instead he had made himself believe that they were going undercover in Tortuga as pirates to look for Sparrow there.

Norrington hadn't had the heart to tell him that he was wrong.

As they sat on the beach, Norrington felt the air go still around them and sighed. Maybe it was time to go inside.

He was so numb – both physically, from the cold, and emotionally, from his disastrous life – that he didn't feel anything when the lightning bolt hit, but he did notice that everything went black. Gillette felt considerably more, but it was cushioned by his mind latching on to the pretty lights. He was rather disappointed, when it all ended.

----------------------------

Lancelot, Guinevere, Gilioneron and the others arrived at the mouth of the gully just after the lightning strike. Guinevere screamed when it struck but the sound was lost in the roar of the thunder and the pounding of the rain.

The rain stopped almost as suddenly as it had started, but from the gully there was only the sound of metal clinking as it cooled gently. Lancelot started towards the muddy slope that had been everyone's way in, but Gilioneron put a hand on his chest to stop him.

"You really… don't want to go down there, Lancelot,"

Guinevere wailed and threw herself at Lancelot, wrapping her arms around his neck, but he was too shocked to even move.

"There has to be somebody who can do something!" he shouted at Gilioneron. "A God of… death or… or lightning or something!"

Gilioneron looked at him in confusion. "They're not dead,"

Guinevere looked up at him, tears in his eyes. "What? But you said Lancelot shouldn't go down there!"

Gilioneron nodded. "Because there's still electricity in the air and Lancelot's wearing metal."

They looked at him. "Where are they?" they said, at the same time.

Gilioneron shrugged. "They've all gone to different worlds," he frowned for a second. "Including Bartatua, for some reason."

"Are you telling me that the lightning strike transported Jessamine and Arthur back to her world?" Lancelot asked incredulously.

Gilioneron paused for a moment. "Not exactly her world. But another world, yes; and Tristan and Galahad are gone, too."

"What?" Cimmeria said, pushing to the front of the crowd, followed by Eunyphore. "Where?"

There was silence for a while, as Gilioneron evidently tried to figure out what had happened, his lips moving as he stared off into space. Guinevere let go of Lancelot awkwardly and went to stand beside Cimmeria and Eunyphore.

"Right," said Gilioneron, coming back to the present. "So far as I can tell, it's like this…"

---------------------------

Fulwood was lying down somewhere, and it was raining on her face. As she swam through the seas of pain towards the shore of consciousness, she became vaguely aware of a cold, biting wind, and the sound of waves crashing against rocks somewhere near her. She put a hand to her head in a vain attempt to quell the headache and then sat up, wiping the rain out of her eyes.

She was lying on a beach, thus explaining the wave noises. One thing she couldn't explain was how she had got there, seeing as Toowoomba was on a mountain, but after a while the events that had taken place earlier that night swam up to greet her, waving cheerfully and making her feel like a complete idiot.

She should have been paying more attention! God, it had been her that had figured out the way to do it in the first place. She shook her head, and then regretted it, and had to once again mop some water out of her face so that she could see.

Lying some distance down the beach was a bedraggled figure wearing a once-beautiful dress that seemed to be half-covered in mud. Fulwood sighed, and struggled to her feet. She would know that blonde hair anywhere. As she watched, Jess groaned and put a hand up to her face, and then sat up suddenly.

"Arthur?" she asked, putting her head in her hands as the shock hit her. "Tristan? Galahad?"

Fulwood laughed dryly. "Not quite,"

Jess looked up. "Fulwood?"

She nodded. "Yeah,"

"Where are we?" Jess asked, looking at her ruined dress in resignation.

Fulwood thought about it. "As far as I can tell, we're in the world where Pirates of the Caribbean is real."

Jess looked at her. "How did we get here?"

Fulwood coughed uncomfortably. "Well, I can tell you how I got here. As for you, well… there I'm not so sure."

Jess sighed and held out her hands, and Fulwood helped her to her feet. It was only then that Fulwood noticed another figure lying on the beach, behind where Jess had been.

It was a man, tall and clad completely in black, with fine golden hair.

Fulwood pointed to him. "A friend of yours?"

Jess looked at him and shook her head. "Never seen him before in my life,"

They exchanged a look. "He's wearing clothes that look sort of piratey," Fulwood said, apprehensively.

Jess nodded. "That's what I was thinking. Maybe he's just a drunk."

The man groaned and put a hand up to his head. "Oh, Zeus! I haven't had a headache like this for centuries!"

They looked at each other. "Definitely not from here," Jess said firmly.

They walked over cautiously – just in case – and as he sat up they both thought that there was something vaguely familiar about him. He looked up at them, raised his eyebrows at Fulwood, and then focused on Jess.

"Hello," he said, grinning.

Jess shook her head. "Who are you?"

He hauled himself to his feet and then promptly fell over, swearing. "By Zeus, once you get used to four legs going back to two is damned difficult."

"What?" they asked at the same time, and then Fulwood turned to Jess. "He must be mad,"

The man shook his head as he stood up successfully this time. "On the contrary." He held out a hand for Fulwood to shake. "My name is Apollo, although you might possibly be better acquainted with my nom de guerre – Bartatua."

Fulwood was still confused but Jess's mouth dropped open, and she made several strangled noises before she could finally come up with anything to say.

"Bartatua? But you're a… a human! And Bartatua's a horse!"

He grinned at her confusion. "Only temporarily, my dear. You see, among other things, I am the ancient Greek God of prophecy. And I had a dream one night that told me that I was needed in Britannia in the form of a horse. Who was I to argue?"

Fulwood looked at Jess. "Is he really your horse?"

She narrowed her eyes. "I don't know. His information so far is correct, and I don't know how anyone could possibly know my horse's name… but still." She turned to him. "Prove it."

He laughed. "Your name is Jessamine Azure Turner. You are a gildatore, you are – as of today – married to Lancelot, a Sarmatian gildoryae, you dislike the cold, and you have had, in your short life in the fifth century, three arrow wounds, one crossbow bolt under the ribs and many and varied wounds at the hand of Kelermes."

Fulwood looked at Jess incredulously. "Three arrows and a crossbow bolt?"

Jess shrugged. "Not in the same battle,"

"Where were the arrows?"

Jess laughed. "Why don't we let Apollo tell us?"

He inclined his head. "Left shoulder, stomach and right thigh, I believe."

Fulwood looked at Jess. "You don't seriously think he's actually Apollo, do you?"

Jess shook her head. "How else could he know all this?"

"Maybe you talk in your sleep," Fulwood suggested, but Jess shook her head.

"Look at him. The black clothes he's wearing, they're not even black. They're more than black. Black is less black than that. I think he is who he says he is."

Fulwood sighed, and then thought about everything the man had said. "You got married today?"

Jess sighed and nodded. "Yes. And by the looks of things I'm not ever going to have my wedding night."

Fulwood looked at the ground. "Sorry,"

Jess shook her head. "It's hardly your fault."

Fulwood coughed uncomfortably again. "Actually, I think it might be. We were watching Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End, and I was on the phone with Airi… and it was stormy…"

Jess frowned. "Am I beginning to see a pattern emerging here?"

Fulwood nodded. "I think so."

Apollo stepped forward. "We are indeed in the world which houses this Pirates of the Caribbean that you have mentioned, but things are considerably more complicated this time than they were when you traveled to my world, Jessamine."

Jess looked at him incredulously. "More complicated than having to save the world from a soul-sucking gildatore from another universe?"

He nodded gravely. "It will take some time to explain."

--------------------------

The universes existed in what is technically an impossible shape, a layout in which every universe was technically alongside every other universe, all at the same time. In the times of the ancient Celts, especially those living in Ireland, travelling between universes was not uncommon, and for every human that went through into the universe of faery creatures, a leprechaun would appear in whatever universe they had come from.

This is because the universes must at all times be balanced. Jess's situation had been difficult, because theoretically the universe she went to hadn't existed until she had gone there through association with the movie, so there had been no exchange made – until Kelermes had gone through, balancing things. But Gilioneron had taken her soul back to his world to keep an eye on her.

It had put both universes under considerable strain, however, because of the massive amount of fractured temporal/spatial matter that now encompassed them, and Fulwood's transferal to another as-yet-non-existent universe had caused the trio of worlds to have what could probably be referred to accurately as a mild case of hysteria.

The world Jess and Fulwood came from (which shall henceforth be referred to as World A) had lost two people, and so took two people from the world Jess had gone to (World B). Then, World B was short two people, so it took two from the world the three of them were currently in (World C). Things were by then so confused that World B and World C had simply swapped one person each, and Apollo had merely been caught up in the spatial/temporal storm.

Not only that, the confusion was to do with time, as well as space, so the two people going to World A would arrive about two hours after Fulwood had disappeared, the three people going to World B would arrive about ten minutes after Arthur, Tristan, Galahad and Jess had left, and the people going to World C had arrived at an entirely different time from the one they should have been going to.

Theoretically, in the first spatial/temporal fracture, Jess had arrived in World B at around the same time it had reached in the movie. Fulwood, however, had been watching At World's End, and they had arrived in what they were fairly sure was Dead Man's Chest, because Apollo could tell that they were in a place called Tortuga. According to Apollo, another person from World B had arrived in World C in a different place, three people from World C were landing in World B, and two people from World B were going to end up in World A.

After all of this, the fact that the man in front of them was a God tended not to bother Fulwood so much anymore.

----------------------------

Jess was pacing back and forth in front of Apollo, her hand over her mouth. She turned to face him suddenly. "Are you telling me that Pascoe and Campbell are going to have to hide two Sarmatian knights in a girl's boarding school?"

Fulwood sighed. "Oh, dear,"

Apollo nodded. "That's not the worst of it. Another person – one of Tristan, Galahad and Arthur – is somewhere in this world. I don't know exactly where. I can't even pinpoint exactly when, so they could theoretically be here a thousand years before us. By themselves."

Jess put her head in her hands. "And three people from here have gone back to Britannia."

He nodded. "I don't know who they are, but two were here, where you landed, and one was where whoever the other person here is landed."

Fulwood stood up. "We need information. We need to know exactly when we are, because we can't form an opinion based on the fact that we're at Tortuga. We need to go into the city and see if we can find out what Jack's been doing. If we're lucky, he might even be docked. Then, we can stay with him until we find Tia Dalma. She's sort of a goddess, isn't she?"

Jess looked at her. "Is she?"

Fulwood waved her hand. "You haven't seen it,"

Apollo thought about it. "If she is a goddess, she can tell us how to get through to the other universes."

"What about you?" Jess asked him.

He shrugged. "I'm not from here. Each universe has it's own different trigger. Yours appears to be solar winds. And DVD's, for some reason."

Jess nodded, and then looked down at her muddy dress. "We're going to attract quite a bit of attention dressed the way we are."

Apollo frowned, and then grinned at her. "I'm sure I can come up with something."

Fulwood looked at him. "You can make clothes?"

He shrugged. "It's not that hard. And, technically, I'll only be taking them from another as-yet-non-existent universe."

Jess shook her head. "This is unbelievable. It's more complicated than Physics, and I didn't even do a science at school!"

Apollo looked at Fulwood. "You might attract a bit of attention in a dress that's the height of fashion at this time, so I could get you something a bit less flashy."

She shook her head. "Sailor's clothes will be fine, thank you."

He shrugged. "Have it your way."

"Is this where you got your clothes from?" Jess asked him.

He shook his head. "I'm a God, so when I'm in human form I automatically end up wearing clothes that let me fit in. It's too complicated. More temporal adjustment stuff."

Jess sighed. "Don't tell me then. I have about as much information for tonight as I think I can handle."

He grinned at her and then closed his eyes, concentrating hard.

Fulwood and Jess stood next to each other on the beach, not quite sure what to expect, until they noticed a small pile of clothes on the beach beside where Apollo was standing. They didn't appear; they just seemed to fade into the foreground, as if they had been there the whole time but the girls hadn't noticed them.

Apollo opened his eyes and grinned at them. "Do you believe me now?"

Jess laughed weakly and then they went to see what choice they had. There was a long pair of boots each, and a pair of breeches and a rough linen shirt, but from there Apollo had catered to taste, Fulwood selecting the bluish-green waistcoat and the heavier leather sea coat, while Jess took the red waistcoat and the lighter jacket.

They stood holding their choice of clothing, looking uncomfortably at Apollo, until he eventually sighed, shook his head and volunteered to go and find a way in to the actual town of Tortuga.

They struggled into their new clothes – which, thankfully, hadn't had time to get sandy yet – and then looked at each other. Jess shook her head.

"We look like idiots,"

Fulwood shrugged. "We don't look too bad,"

"We need to do something about our hair, for a start," Jess said, critically, and then noticed two hats lying on the sand. "Were those there before?"

Fulwood shrugged again. "Does it matter? It solves our problem, doesn't it?"

Jess sighed petulantly and picked up one, tucking her hair up into it rather savagely.

Fulwood looked at her. "What's wrong?"

Jess flashed her an angry look. "Gee, I don't know, maybe it's the fact that it's not only my wedding day but also my birthday and everything's gone wrong! I may not get a chance to see Lancelot for a long time. What if we're in Tortuga in The Curse of the Black Pearl? It could be ages before we find Tia Dalma!"

Fulwood sighed and put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry,"

Jess shook her head. "I shouldn't have gone off at you like that. It's just that I feel undressed without a sword, after all this time of being a gildatore."

Fulwood looked at her in confusion. "You weren't wearing a sword under your wedding dress,"

Jess nodded. "Yeah, but there were two on Bartatua's… I mean… Apollo's saddle."

"I can't believe he's actually your horse," Fulwood said, sitting down on the sand.

Jess shook her head. "Me neither," she shuddered. "I've used him as a screen to get dressed behind, sometimes."

They both shook their heads, and then Jess sat down beside Fulwood. "So, how's 2007 been? 2008, now, of course."

Fulwood shrugged. "No one's stopped talking about you going missing. We had to tell Mrs Scott you'd done a runner."

Jess laughed. "How's the orchestra coping?"

Fulwood snorted. "What orchestra? Now that you're gone, they haven't got a composer, a bass line or a captain. No, we're terrible. You know I can't play the viola."

Jess nodded. "Got a new ancient history teacher yet?"

Fulwood shook her head. "Mrs Anderson has only just gone on maternity leave. They appointed this new guy but he's been 'unavoidably detained'. His brother was in an accident, or something. So we're having a substitute teacher until he can get here."

Jess laughed again. "I don't miss it. Don't miss it at all. I mean, technology is nothing compared to freedom. I can do practically whatever I want, aside from stupid things like killing people without a cause or whatever. It's awesome. Well, it was, anyway."

They were silent for a while, and they hardly noticed Apollo return until he handed Jess two swords, complete with scabbards, straps and buckles. She unsheathed one, looking at the blade, and then looked up at him in amazement.

"These are my swords. Not ones from here. Where did you get them?"

He shrugged. "They were strapped to the saddle."

She shook her head in exasperation and then stood up in order to sling them across her back, underneath the jacket. "Thanks,"

Fulwood stood up as well and motioned towards where they could see the distant lights of Tortuga. "Did you find a way in?"

Apollo nodded. "It's quite a walk, but if you ladies aren't averse to exercise…"

Jess sighed and shook her head at him. "You idiot. I'm a gildatore and she lives on a farm. We know how to handle exercise."

She and Fulwood began walking in the direction of the lights, and Apollo stood still for a moment before following them, shaking his head and smiling to himself.

-----------------------------

Davey Jones sat in his cabin, looking at the unconscious body of Arthur, and fumed. At first he had thought it was one of Jack Sparrow's tricks, but he could sense that there was something bigger than that at work here. Something bigger than them all, and it was obvious by the man's clothing that he wasn't from the same place they were, unless the new fashion in England included armour again.

Not only that, Jones was angry because he'd had a big chunk of leverage removed. The boy had obviously been a friend of Jack's, or he wouldn't have tried to bargain to get him back, and now he was gone. He wasn't sure where, but he knew it probably wasn't a place that was easily accessible, and he also knew that that meant Jack would claim he was a soul up on the bargain.

Jones sighed. He would keep whatever it was that had replaced the Turner boy, just for the sake of it, even if it didn't speak the same language. It had to be of some use, although it looked as though all of the man's ribs were broken, if Jones was any judge – and he prided himself on being able to tell the severity of a man's injuries.

He sighed, and turned back to his organ.

----------------------------

Gilioneron was trying gallantly to explain the spatial/temporal fracture theory to Lancelot and Guinevere when they suddenly heard someone groan from the gully.

Lancelot looked at Gilioneron. "Is that them?"

Gilioneron shook his head. "That's… someone else. From another world."

Gawain, Dagonet and Bors picked their way carefully into the gully, and came up dragging three wet-looking men wearing extremely outlandish clothes. Two of them were still unconscious but the third tried to stand up when they set him on the ground.

"Where am I?" he said weakly, from his hands and knees.

"Britannia," Lancelot said, helping him up. "In another world."

He looked around at them all. "Am I dead?"

Gilioneron shook his head. "Not quite. May I enquire as to your name?"

He looked around at them again, warily. "William Turner,"

Gilioneron nodded. "And the men behind you?"

Will turned and looked at them, double taking in surprise when he saw one of them. "This man," he said, rolling one of them over onto his back, "is James Norrington. The other… one of his lieutenants. I don't know his name."

Gilioneron nodded again, and sighed. "Now, I think, it is time the explanations were given. Again."

---------------------------

Pascoe and Campbell were rifling through Fulwood's things, trying to find her ancient history assignment. It was more than two hours since she had disappeared, and they were beginning to panic.

"What the hell are we going to do?" Pascoe asked, and Campbell shrugged.

"Tell them Fulwood ran away as well?"

Pascoe shook her head. "Maybe we could tell them she had to go home, because she was sick."

Campbell looked at her. "Without a note from her family? Without so much as a phone call? I don't think so."

Pascoe's eyes narrowed. "Well, maybe we could tell them that she'd been kidnapped."

Campbell looked at her. "That would be immensely difficult, Sarah,"

Pascoe's face grew shrewd. "I'm sure we could manage it. Especially with their help."

Both girls turned to look at Tristan and Galahad, flat out on the floor, still unconscious.

"I think I have a plan," Pascoe said.