Chapter Eight: Up and Out

"Ye've a little more'n half an hour, lads." Barbossa stated gruffly to the assembled crew by the prow. "I want all on deck to pull their weight other than Mrs. Turner, ye hear?"

A general murmur of understanding ran through the small crowd. Elizabeth and Guinevere stood slightly behind Jack, who fiddled somewhat nervously with his compass. He flicked agitatedly at the little glass face as his coffee-black eyes followed the whirling needle.

"Mrs. Turner, when the time comes for us ter make our ascent, I do not want ter see you on this deck. Ye've been given the privilege of almost guaranteed safety. Do not throw it away."

Elizabeth nodded and stroked Liam's forehead. It was that "almost" that made her gazed at her baby with a hint of fear in her brown eyes.

The Black Pearl had been gradually making its way towards the west Edge for some time now. By now, it was clear from the increased water current and the mismatching still air that it was nearing its destination. They had predicted, as Barbossa stated, that they were little more than half an hour away.

"Now. Batten down the hatches, ye bilge-sucking swabs."

The pirate crew scattered, including Elizabeth. She hurriedly made her way below deck to assure her cabin no longer housed hazardous items that could fall or crush.

Guinevere noted Jack's unnerved expression as he flipped the compass over in his bejewelled hands and shook it.

"I never thought I'd see the day- Captain Jack Sparrow, nervous?" she smiled tauntingly.

"Tis not the rising of the ship that's got me mind a-whirring, luv," he didn't look up.

"Well, whatever it is, shake it off. We can't have a fumbling captain whilst performing a stunt like this, can we?"

"I'd say not."

Without further ado, the two joined the crew in lashing down barrels, tensing the sails and locking the gunpowder in a dry, safe storeroom. With the rum, of course.

Next, the ropes were unravelled. Long, coarse, thick ropes that would be used to lash themselves down to avoid the crew being lost to the wind and the waves when the ship tilted. The ropes and hawsers were uncoiled and passed their heads threw the mortises of the capstan and the eye of the fairleads.

They were quickly dispensed among the crew. Each man caught the woven rope and slipped it hastily pulled it into a tight knot around his waist or chest.

Barbossa clasped the helm firmly, his own tether binding him to it. Not that he needed it, Guinevere thought. In all her time on the Black Pearl, she had never once seen him loose his footing or stumble.

Jack promptly went to check on Elizabeth, who was clasping Liam closely to her chest in the safety of her now empty cabin. He returned to the deck to observe a sight he himself had never gazed upon.

The dark, choppy water spread out a good distance in front of them, as it should. But past that… blackness. The very ocean itself seemed to drop off in a sheer precipice. The water ran of the edge of the very world as nonchalantly as if it were a simple waterfall. The great expanse of darkness stretched on for eternity.

A memory seemed to float back to him; a shrewd, slithery voice: "Do you fear that black abyss?" Jack silently answered the voice for the second time in his life: "Yes."

"Smartly, lads!" Gibbs's voice interrupted Jones's. The void was drawing ever closer. Jack threw the rope around his middle.

A few feet away from Jack, Guinevere was tightening her bindings when an unexpected thought hit her: Where was the monkey?

The capuchin had abandoned it's usual residence of Barbossa's shoulder. On a sudden whim, she threw off the rope, inexplicabley concerned.

The water was rushing faster now.

"Where's the monkey?" she yelled over the crashing water. No-one seemed to be able to hear.

She started off towards the hatch, but Jack caught her by the arm. "What the bloody hell are you doing?" he shouted the better to be heard.

"The monkey!" she pulled her arm from his grip, and threw herself down the slippery steps. She saw the Jack the monkey at once, perched nonchalantly atop a barrel of dried sardines.

"Get out of here, you stupid little cretin!" she shrieked angrily. The monkey took the hint and scampered up the stairs before her, as the ship swayed horribly.

She began to follow but lost her footing on the second step, falling forward. Rain had begun to pour from the dark heavens above, and a sharp ribbon of lightening pierced the sky. She half walked, half clambered the wooden steps to the lurching deck.

Her black, wet curls plastered to her forehead, she stumbled to the rail to get her balance, only to withdraw in shock as she realised the Pearl was mere metres from nothingness. A scream barely had time to pass her lips when a hand shot out of nowhere, yanking her backwards. Jack.

She made to throw her rope around herself, but her shaking hands fumbled and dropped it. Jack's arms caught her by the waist and held her firmly to him as the ship suddenly dipped and cold air rushed across the deck.

A final wave rose over the Black Pearl, sucked her in, unbalanced her, and threw her over the edge of the Earth into the terrible dark oblivion.

Though nothing bound her to the ship, Guinevere felt Jack's arms tighten around her as the entire ship tilted, then seemed to be pulled upward by an invisible rope.

The next moments passed in a confused blur. Impenetrable darkness. Terrified screams. Roaring wind. Deathly fear.

It seemed to go on forever, yet the terror never lessened. The dark was so intense. It was so thick, so cold it could make one gasp for breath, convinced they were suffocating. It was like a constricting blanket, thick and heavy, yet cold, icy.

The cruel wind seemed to bat at their bodies, daring them to loosen their grip and loose themselves at its mercy. They grasped tighter, and it hissed in their ears, cheated of new potential victims.

And suddenly there was a rush, amiable light, and the Black Pearl hit unknown waters with such impact that Jack's rope snapped and he and Guinevere went sent a careening on their backs to the other side of the mast.

The ship wobbled for a few minutes as though getting her bearings in this mysterious sea.

Guinevere gasped repeatedly, fighting to regain her breath. What didn't help, however, was that when they were sent rolling, Jack and she had still been gripping each other firmly. And whatever way they had come to a halt, she was lying beneath him.

"Thank…y-you…" she spluttered. "For…helping me back there."

"Me pleasure."

They panted quietly for a moment, Guinevere waiting for Jack to get up. He didn't.

"You can get off of me now, you know," she smiled.

"Aye, I would. But me legs be dead to the world, luv," he grinned, flashing a gold tooth.

"I take it you're enjoying this?" she snapped, fighting back a smile.

"I take it you are also."

She raised an eyebrow enquiringly. "How so?"

"You haven't pushed me off yet."

The sounds of the crew righting themselves could be heard at the other end of the deck, but neither took much notice.

Jack peered leisurely into those enchanting eyes. It was as if the stormy sky had shattered, and two fragments had fallen to earth, only to be caught in her long, thick eyelashes, so beautifully dark against her white skin.

"Hmm. I suppose not. How odd," with a coy yet enticing smile, she slipped out from beneath him and stood up unsteadily. She brushed back her long, softly curly raven hair and disappeared to the other side of deck.

The crew were shaken and windswept, yet largely unharmed. Even Cotton's parrot had only a few ruffled blue and yellow feathers. Elizabeth appeared after a few minutes, her face tear-streaked, quivering fingers clutching the wailing bundle that was Liam.

Jack the monkey popped his tiny, furry head out of Barossa's long jacket. He chattered angrily in Guinevere's direction, probably miffed at her for having shouted at him.

achingly bright sun glared down from Bloody thing. Next time, I'll just leave it down there to drown like a rat or get blown off the ship, Guinevere thought. She had nearly risked her life for an ungrateful monkey. Tch.

The sea in which they had landed was most certainly otherworldly, though in a subtle way. The waves slapped the hull of the ship and coaxed it along, yet the humid air was calm and still. It didn't add up. The sun glared down from between smooth white clouds.

Barbossa swiftly instructed for the anchor to be dropped. "We don't know what lies ahead, lads. Best rest and store up some energy while ye can."

The crew obliged gratefully. Many escaped below deck to sleep and shelter from the heat, leaving only Jack, Guinevere, Pintel and Ragetti on top deck.

Guinevere fetched her logbook from a lashed-down crate of spiced pork. Though it now smelled strongly of sage, at least it was dry. She settled in the shade of the mast and began to write.

Though I am plainly aware of the sole purpose of this logbook, I find myself tempted to forsake its function and record goings-on of a more personal level.

Well. It is my book. Why not?

When I first heard the tales of Captain Jack Sparrow from the streets of Tortuga, I rolled my eyes. The "ladies of the night", as it were, swooned at the mention of him and his infamous charm. How silly, I thought.

Well, I feel I can agree with them on at least one thing now. He is indeed charming. Very much so.

Feeling a tad frustrated with herself, she slammed the book closed and stuck the quill behind her ear. She went down to her cabin to place the logbook and ink on the shelf, and sleep for a while.

Just as her eyes began to flicker dozily, a half-formed thought flitted through her mind. The feeling of Jack's warm, rum-tainted breath in hers hadn't been half bad.

A/N: Chapter Nine coming soon! Hope you people are enjoying reading this as much as I am writing it!

Review replies:

XShadowCatX: I'm glad I'm not the only one who cried when he died. For that split-second, I really wanted him and Liz to get together. XD

YANIsweetness7: I'm glad! :D

Caramel Crazy: Thanks!! XD Love the username!