This chapter actually ended up being ten thousands words, so it's been split into two. Hooray, this will take the story further! More action is coming up, the characters just have to reach the right places to find it.
Nora just could not resist.
It wasn't her fault.
Truly, Sparrow was the one who had decided to bring the females back to the ship, so blame fell all onto him. With two sniveling selkies locked up in the Brigg, how was she supposed to keep away?
"Here ladies! Argh, argh. Feeding time?" She taunted, holding up a pail of the cook's spoils, and banging against the checkered iron bars. Already trembling, the two women cried out, and pushed themselves into the far corner of the small rectangular cage.
Pathetic, Nora thought. They, like all their kind, were a humiliation to ocean species.
No good came from the selkies. All they did was dance, cry problems to their mother goddess, and eat up the fish! They were like ignorant children: gluttonous, dependent, and selfish. Nora had never heard of them peacefully coexisting anywhere. Wherever the pack traveled, the fish disappeared and in the sharks moved. They had been banned from Nora's reef while she was still young, and for good reason. The goddess Amphitrite had clearly favored her pups, shifting the schools of fish to feed the seals, whilst the other reef predators starved. Thankfully, Poseidon sided with the merefolk, and allowed her sisters to chase out the selkies before all the fish had been eaten.
And yet, the victory had not been all satisfying. Nora still remembered the half decade afterward, where she only ate crab and rockfish, while letting the barely existent species repopulate.
Because of the harm they caused their environments, selkies riled mermaid blood in a similar manner as the wayward humans. Her kind would lead genocide against the selkies, if not forbidden by the goddess Amphitrite. It would be an easy victory too, since the selkies were such feeble creatures; to anything larger than a guppy, they were as potent as shrimp brines. However, as ordered by the queen to the underwater world, normally the mermaids never touched the maidens. The sole exemption to the decree was the few rare cases when Poseidon overruled.
Traditionally, Nora would have merely sneered at the selkies and let her disgust simmer inside. Except, Sparrow had basically already condemned everyone on the ship by taking the selkies captive. With punishment unavoidable, Nora reasoned that a few more taunts would hardly hurt her situation. Besides, she needed to release her frustrations, tired of the miserable days with the crew, stressed from her hope flowing like the tides, and frustrated from constant dehydration. She let it all lose, coming out with the same menace of a tiger shark.
"Come on! I know you're hungry! You just have to bark!" She rattled again, giving off a wickedly gleeful laugh and skipping around the side to get closer. They just retreated into the opposite corner. Since they weren't in water, they could not call mamma for aid, and that made them all fair game for torment. For the most part, Nora did not have the least bit of guilt. At one point, her conscious felt an inkling of concern, but she shushed it, telling herself that no mermaid ever cared for a selkie. She self-justified her actions as beneficial for the sheltered women, telling herself someone needed to toughen them up.
No, that was not her intention, but it served well as an excuse.
Taking a deep breath for another laugh, and raising the pail to compose another piece of ear splitting clangs, Nora nearly missed the pound of footsteps on the stairs. That hardly mattered though, because she could never have pleaded deaf to the roar that then consumed the entire level.
"WHAT BLOODY FOUL IS GOING ON DOWN 'ERE!"
She dropped her arms, straightening her spine with a series of concise sharp clicks. The pail hit the floor with a final smack then fell silent, hiding into the scenery.
Agape and appalled at her own stupidity, Nora cringed and turned, toward the horrifyingly familiar voice of the quartermaster. It was not her fault, but it was. The presence of the selkies had knocked out her common sense; she had fallen prey to temptation, so frustrated and taut that from the start all consequences had been unreasonably ignored.
She wanted to smack herself for not thinking her actions thoroughly through. She wanted to let loose a few tears of aggravation.
With no escape possible, Nora reluctantly walked her gaze up the stairs, wincing as she counted the crowd of feet that had gathered upon the shout. Each step up, there were more. The quartermaster and Captain stood on the third stair, enraged and disturbed expressions respectively. Around the base, stood six or seven crew members, giving breath for the Captain while quietly shoving for best view. Among them, tucked into a nook near the banister of the stairs, was a sunburnt looking Wills.
Her eyes immediately caught and held onto the boy and for a moment she forgot the current predicament.
She had not seen Wills in two days, though he looked extremely better than before; especially, since he at least resembled a human. Nora almost ran to her friend then. Her mind sparked with questions as her eyes roamed his body in amazement. It had turned an Indian color and rapidly recovered. And he was standing, walking even! She needed to know how, and to embrace him till she was certain this was real. Her feet had already begun shifting Wills direction when a throaty cough sounded.
That brought her back to the two authorities and the crowd come to investigate. She would have to see to Wills after.
Nora's blood went icy cold, as her gaze left the boy to take a cringing sweep over the full audience. All the faces looked on curious as several twisted into malicious expressions. She saved the stairs for last, having least desire to face her judges. When she did, her eyes only made it to one. Mallot locked onto her with an invisible force. His enraged expression so penetrating she feared to look away or else the cannon would shoot.
She had to give some defense, even if her tongue felt dryer than sand. If they spoke first, she might not have the courage to respond.
"I…well…was wanting to talk with them." Nora fumbled, uncertain about the words as they came out. It was hardly an excuse, but without time, she could not bring anything better to mind.
She had to at least try something before Mallot's explosion blew her to smithereens.
"On the hangman's noose!" He scoffed and stomped down to and across the floor toward her. "You was baitin' em like fish, tell us by whose order, damn witch?"
For a second, Nora feared he was coming to strike her. She tensed when he got in an arm's length, struggling not to drop her eyes to his hand, in case it revealed her fear. She had to stand tall while in front of the crew. The men hounded in on and picked at her weakness mercilessly, and it only made matters worse.
"Well witch?" Mallot yelled, towering over her. Nora gulped. He hadn't struck yet, and she could still talk; it was the only positive she had to cling to.
"I had no permission sir."
"So yer just a spiteful, jealous girl then. I'd throw ye' in the brig, but I canna trust ye' with the comp'ny in 'ere."
She didn't respond, hoping to ride out the argument. Neither could she say anything for her own defense. There was no way to explain that the fury she felt toward the selkies was instinctual. Pleading not to would merely seal the deal.
But every muscle of her stomach twisted when he mentioned locking her with them. Spending hours with the selkies would have been the most humiliating punishment. Perhaps there was nothing worse. Yet, there was because sitting with the selkies, at least she'd keep her life.
The rage in Mallot's eyes was worse than she had ever seen; and guessing the alternative, she realized stomaching a few hours with the selkies would have been the better option.
Not just she saw what he had in mind: the other men were giving vicious jeers, indicating their consensus that she had finally screwed up for the last time. All except Wills, who looked horrified, though that meant basically the same thing.
They were going to petition to leave her behind. They were going to cast her into the barren ocean. Her fists clenched, and her eyes widened, painfully regretting her actions once again.
Why had she acted so whimsically, aggravating a crew that already had her on their death lists?
"The end of this none sense!" He roared again, to the crew's cheer. "We be done with this useless wench's cock'ness. She's goes for a Swim!"
At the uproar from the men, the decree was made an affirmative. What really did her in though was the meek, barely audible 'please!' from the selkies. She had lost to humans before, but that she lost to selkies was the greatest insult. The situation had flared too quickly; not even Wills or Gibbs could come to her rescue this time.
They were going to toss her overboard, into the empty middle ocean.
"OYE!" A command rose above the rest, and the crew turned back. Peering around Mallot, Nora's eyes caught Wills. He looked just as scared as her.
She didn't like his face, and immediately turned back to follow the shout. The pointed gazes revealed the voice had belonged to Sparrow; still standing slightly hunched in the stairway. He met her eyes, a disconcerting scowl crossed his features, then moved onto Mallot.
"She be cruel but half the men here'd do worse to those gals if that lock weren't in place." He said, strolling forward and casting accusing fingers about the group.
Nora kept her face straight, but her insides reeled. The captain seemed to be arguing on her behalf. As much as she appreciated the gesture, it made no sense. Captains commanded and spoke for the whole, but Captain Sparrow was doing just the opposite.
"She's been stealin' water supplies too Cap'in. I's see her drink'in nearly two gallons a day." Mallot contended.
"Well good thing those eyes see. I was also told corn has ears, but don't expect it to hear." Nora didn't get it and took a glance around with a slight bit of relief. From the partly popped mouths and slanted eyebrows, no one else seemed to understand either. Mallot proceeded.
"The cook and Squid witness it; her wastin' precious supplies. And she's been shirkin' work. This is business…"
"AH!" Sparrow jumped, his shriek nearly taking Nora up with him. Bringing his hands to his hips and shoving his chest the Captain appeared as if immediately ready for a display of dominance. Nora normally would have chuckled, since Mallot stood a full half head taller, but did not. Her future was in jeopardy with this show. Swallowing her doubt, she instead took to silently praying to Poseidon that Sparrow had some clue to his frolicking.
"So we should be savvy and adhere to Pirate transaction then, and what again is the pirate's main trade?" He puffed, his gander rotating full spin.
There was hardly a moment of silence, before someone spoke up.
"Cargo of stolen of ships? Tobacco, cloths and spices?" It was Pete, the young boy who had pulled the jellyfish off of Wills' body. His hands scarred just as badly.
"Maybe true," Sparrow faltered, then narrowed his question. "but what is any half blooded or greater pirate sworn loyal to by the Code?"
Pete closed his mouth and raised his shoulders. About half the crowd exchanged perplexed looks. Nora was just as lost. She wasn't a pirate, she had not even known the code existed. Nor was there chance that it promoted providing passage to maidens, so she could not imagine how it saved her.
"Gold!" Another feeble voice offered. This time it was Ragetti. "Gold, then silver, gems, and all the finest of riches drawn straight from the Earth's forces and heat."
"Aye, precisely as written, I believe?" To which Ragetti nodded, and Nora again found herself in awe that the Code had actually been written. It couldn't have been more than a few lines, like the Ten Commandments the humans worshipped. Still, it was an impressive self-contradiction that the lawless pirates had rules.
"So, is any pirate here not deserving of his title? Should anyone here pass opportunity to gold and riches?"
The crowd responded vehemently, denying any such thought.
"Then men, we cannot dispose of Miss Nora yet." The conclusion sounded so free and apparent, as if it made perfect sense. And Nora understood, swinging her head back to Sparrow and trying to sort through her gratitude and disbelief. His judgment meant he trusted her oath. But if Pirates had any laws, wouldn't trust be the first thing forbidden? Going against his crew's wishes and showing faith, it made no sense that he was even a Pirate, let alone one of the lords.
"And why's that?" Pintel's voice snarled.
"Because, the deal. If Miss Nora denies her capability to get to the Lady Cornelia, then by all means toss her, hang her from the mast, take her blood in payment of the lost water…"
Nora could not take it to hear anymore of her sentences, she cried out.
"I do not deny!" There was silence, and she felt the weight of ten or so gazes crushing her chest. The heaviest came from the Captain, who now watched her keenly. The corner of his lip twitched, his eyes confident and radiant. Something stirred in her stomach, drawing up her throat in that uncomfortable scrutiny. All her willpower straining to hold strong, pretending that he was not seeing right through her skin.
"And you won't break your promise?"
Nora's regular answer 'I cannot' was on the tip of her tongue before she caught it. What once had been such an innocent truth now seemed like her most blatant confession. Was he waiting for her admittance? Did he know she was a mermaid? At this moment it felt almost certain, but he couldn't. What proof or even bounds for suspicion did he have? She had shown him nothing more than she had shown others; and never before had anyone taken such special notice. Her gut clenched telling her otherwise, and, like always, Nora listened to it.
He knew something was strange, that he held her prisoner by her bargain told her so. No man could be truly held to their word; less so did society put such respect on women. Normally she would run, while Sparrow still possibly retained the inklings of doubt. Yet, that was impossible on this ship. She would have to fight this one through.
Her muscles heated, and temper rose, her body responding. The terror in her head pushed aside to allow her aggravations to vent. She would not lie and wait for the beast to finish her. She bared her claws.
"I always keep my promises." Each word had its own bite, and she hoped the message went through clear: she had just given him more reason for his beliefs, and hated doing so. When the Captain smirked, she took it as a sign that he understood, and felt in the upper hand. More heat flared inside her.
"Every last piece, from the diamonds around the cold skeleton necks, to the gold coin fallen in between the floorboards."
"Yes." She hissed.
Amidst the group, with the tension raising their hairs like the fore warn of a lightning stike, Nora gripped herself, preparing for the Captain to reveal her. He knew; she knew; he knew she knew; but no one else knew, not yet.
And, then it ended, coming to nothing.
The Captain never said a word, except to dismiss the confused and disappointed crowd to prepare the ship for possible storms that evening. He never even cast another look at her, leaving her petrified and entirely out of sorts, going back above deck. Mallot snapped at her; his disappointment won him over, and he stormed off unable to speak through his rage to give her any clear order. Nora gulped, and watched the other men return to post or their leisure, she not moving an inch.
None of them stared or studied her as they left. It was as if they had not interpreted the underlying bit in the Sparrow's questions, and that made no sense, because to her the Captain had been loud and clear. At least, she did not think she had over judged him. When Sparrow made her promise, she had genuinely felt threatened. His eyes had a glint, had a pressing look to them. The Captain could have been guessing. He could have even been guessing wrong. But he had come forward with the forced promise, a strong trait of her kind, and almost certain indication.
She did not know, had never before felt this sort of pressure, and was terrified.
Nora's body jerked as a hand slapped down on her shoulder, a dull thud sounded below and her legs suddenly chilled.
Wills, she recognized first, and then looked down to the fish spoils splattered everywhere. Her faced screwed in disgust as the familiar stench wafted up from her toes.
"That has to be the tenth bucket by now." Wills commented, a strange little tingle his voice. She knew the sound, it was his amusement. She was half glad for it, desperate to put the last afternoon confrontation behind her.
"Since you are insulting me, I'll be sure to take the bunk below you." She joked, wiggling her toes for him to see and smell. Her eyes tore to Wills, finally able to study the incredible recovery.
He looked not in pain nor was scratching his scabs mercilessly. From close up, she saw there was much improvement. His body no longer swelled like a puffer fish, and had a returned to its shape. His color, while still burnt, was much more subtle than its original scorching red. The scars, remained, but they didn't seem to disfigure or impair him. Instead they traced like cobwebs over his skin. His state was impossibly healthy for a day three of recovery.
On the shore crew's return, her impression had been of the worst. Gibbs had rushed up the ladder first, carrying a meaty sack over his shoulder; she never guessed that sack was a body. Then Sparrow's crowd returned. When Wills did not climb up, her first fear had been that he was left dead to rot on the beach. Pete revealed the grim identity of Gibbs' haul, and she only altered the setting, believing Wills was to rot on the ship. She visited his mangled and half dead body twice: the first time deeply regretting going with a nonempty stomach, and then a few hours after his treatment. Both times he looked hideous; tagged for death. She would have stayed till he passed, but the pirate quack Gibbs forbid anyone lurking around his cabin. Gibbs promised that Wills would pull through, but this was unnatural.
She pressed Wills for an explanation.
"Jack and Gibb's have seen it all Nora, and Gibb's knows Jack's aptitude for running into death." He chuckled, the joyous sound tickling her ears. Her friend had appeared to come back to life. "He'd never sail without a doctor's shelves and shaman healer's magic powders. He smoked a white dust over me, and it killed the sting better than a vinegar bath."
She couldn't agree more with his last statement. He looked as if his wounds were weeks old. The skin puckered with the slight brittle shine as though it had just shed its scabs. The whole recovery had gone so quick, she could not remember if there even were scabs at any point. It had to be nonhuman power that saved Wills life. What did not fit into the play was why Gibbs had used such methods. He abhorred that sort of stuff, all his tales were of men punished from it. He should have been the last person on board to hoard magical items.
"Gibbs dabbles in witchcraft? He's crossin' his morals."
"He may not like this trait about himself, but Gibbs values his life more than his soul."
For a moment, Nora felt an instance of understanding. She could just imagine priests refusing men like Gibbs into church, or the towns mocking the scoundrel kneeling in prayer. A mermaid would drown him without giving him chance for repentance. By land and sea holy order, Gibbs' soul was damned; cursed to suffer for its crimes the moment he left this world. Burning flames waited to blacken and crisp his skin, spears sharpened for his skewering, grotesque creatures should already have begun stalking his aging frame. With his foul future, it made sense that Gibbs wanted to prolong his life as much as possible. She agreed it was best whatever methods he used.
Realizing her growing sympathy, Nora cut off her reflection, ashamed of herself. She was a mermaid, loyal foremost to the lord Poseidon, a warrior of the deities. Her sisters and her never sided with damned humans. Betrayal to the divine was deserved punishment. When she returned home, she would have to live by those decrees, or become a traitor to her kind. She could not let her morals alter.
"Why were you scaring the selkies? And with the Captain, what happened between you two?" Wills' barrage caught her open mouthed and with no reply.
How was she to explain? She cursed Wills for his boldness; he would ask her straightforward, and pester.
By the gods graces, a possible excuse happened to come right at the start of an unusually long pause.
"Tormenting prisoners, that's a normal custom amongst people."
She was ready for another question on the matter, especially with the cold expression on Wills face.
"Jack didn't care; he went lengths to keep you safe. Why?"
"The treasure I promised." She tried, already knowing Wills would see right through the cover, anyone with eyes or ears would notice her gaping face, the slight hesitancy in her words. The confidence she had mustered to contend Sparrow was wearing thin, Wills would catch her on the down cline. His eyebrow shot up in way that declared insulted disbelief, as his arms found rest folded against his chest.
"Of course. How were you even going to get it?" Despite her growing apprehension, Nora ticked her nose up at him, slightly angry at her friend. And slightly angry at herself. He was three days after a near death experience, and still wearing the physical evidence. She did not want to fight, let alone lose, to someone who should be considered weakened.
"That's my secret, which you'll find out when the time comes." She snipped, then not out of spite, but half teasing and half warning added "If you survive this thing." She took a lengthy look up and down on his body, changing the subject off of her to one of worry for Wills.
As usual, when challenged with capability, he immediately jumped in to defend himself.
"I'll be alright. This…This is nothing; I was just a tad bit careless was all." He brushed his hands over his arms, as though able to wipe away the injuries like specks of dirt. Of course, they remained. Nora looked at him with uncertainty, knowing he meant his words, trying to determine if that was a positive or foolish outlook. His body had been scarred, but his head had been hardened. All sailors had their stories and strengthening experiences, and this could amount to something similar for Wills. Or he could be misreading a warning.
"This won't be the only hazard, far worse lies ahead if you do indeed have to face Calypso. If the jellyfish did this, then how do you stand a chance against her?" Her tone was firm, but quiet. It was an insult to a man, but Wills was her friend. He had to consider her concerns, not just for her, but for his own health.
He fully heard her. Nodding his head and glancing down at the floor. At first she thought he appeared defeated, shocked that the stubborn boy agreed. Then she noted his rigid stance, the hunch of shoulders that defined his contemplation.
"I've prepared myself. I'd be worse if I stopped right now." He paused fire flicking his tongue as Nora listened. His voice sounded strained.
A few frustrated tear drops pattered into the gutted mess on the floor. At first she thought Wills had broken, that emotions had finally crashed on him. She moved to offer him a hand, when he jerked. His body tightening and the red of rage flushing across his cheeks. This time, he near shouted, but with such a strong voice none could doubt the sincerity.
"And damn it, I am not going to! I will free my father, and I will bring my family back together, no matter what that sea witch says!" His tirade hung in the air, daring anyone to contend so he could just prove them wrong. Nora could not though. Even if for the safety of her friend. Her denials had surrendered to his declaration.
She felt just as tense, muted by the silence soaked into the air around them. Wills was never this emotional, never shed tears or hysterical. She was dumbstruck. Moments passed before she realized why: he both scared and amazed her.
"Okay." She simply whispered in agreement, relieved as the radiant tensions faded back into the boy.
His might was disappearing, but not leaving. It still remained inside, unveiled for the brief moment. Nora now recognized his drive, the unfathomable question of how Wills found the courage to embark on this mission beyond answered. He was resolved, and nothing but death would take him off course.
She admired this strength, jealously wishing it within herself, while not wishing for an ounce of its repercussions. She did not want to think about dying, but the truth of its likelihood remained. Significantly for Wills. Her friend was pushing head first into a wall of spikes, trying to knock it down. And though she knew her own death was imminent along with the crew, having to watch Wills die terrified her most.
He did not deserve it. He appeared to have already suffered enough, but she had known this all before. What truly set her distraught now was that she had been blind to the masochistic determination Wills festered. He did not plan to turn around, even if beaten or faced with impossible decision. Go forward and die, or turn away. Wills would die.
She did not have the heart to watch. Yet, what could she do? What right did she have to interfere?
Wills recovered as Nora contemplated, and gave a hard kick to the pail when she did not continue speaking. Startled, she looked back up to him, the last tear sliding underneath his chin, and a shy grimace now adorning his face. He apologized, but she stopped him. He had meant every word. She disagreed, but that was her own opinion and battle. And then, they both let the subject drop, unable to continue on such a serious topic, desperate to turn their minds to other activities.
Of course, both of them set their stoic gazes on the mess. It was the distraction they desired.
"You were almost right. I think it's the eighth bucket, but I am trying not to count anymore. Over six was the limit for my nerves."
"Here. I'll help clean it up. If you make me a promise."
"What's that?"
"Sleep with your feet and hands fully covered tonight."
She laughed, gratefully accepted his aid, but made no such promises.
