AN: This is where I'm supposed to say thank you to my reviewer(s). Well, I've already thanked her, so I'll offer more thanks to loyal readers of my other stories instead!
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Sweetest C. Author 67 - Not to worry, I'm returning to Misplaced Hearts and a possibly irate Calypso summoned by Lizzie to stop the thieves, but first I have to nudge Jack out of the mysterious temple!
Jennifer Lynn Weston - Wow, what can I say? You've been with me since the drabbles of Ponderings Of A Trapped And Injured Pirate. APLNM will probably be finished in 2010. I'm stuck on how to bring the Pearl back, if you know what I mean!
Starling Rising - Yes! Finally someone who got the message in Prevailing Insanity! My best bud pointed it out after AWE, and asked why they'd do that to otherwise great stories.
SherylMeBud – Jack is only playing with Norrington here. There are no cannons on ships, Royal Navy or otherwise. You recall, he said earlier in his cell, 'I know those guns – that's the Pearl!'
Arquenniel - Thanks bunches for the mention, and glad you thought I Hate Pirates funny! I know that your unique Battle of Brimstone Hillis such a riot that my sister turned the TV up so she couldn't hear me choke with laughter! I love this perspective of them!
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AN: I can see this probably turning out a 6-8 parter as Jack hasn't found – oops. O-kay, let's just get him out of the creepy temple, shall we, before somebody cries Indiana Jones and really big rocks start rolling!
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Part 7d – Have A Drink On Me, Your Nibs
- Lair Of The Sea Beastie
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Splaying his left palm against the marked wall, Jack caught a glimpse of the reddened lines encircling his wrist, and then moved into the encompassing darkness, hand running over the unseen map. Sure enough, somewhere around shoulder level on the other side of the turn, the chamber's wall did indeed slant inward like a long-abandoned hearth. Perplexed, Jack stooped to touch the floor, expecting a brittle bundle of petrified logs, but there was only dried mud and leaves. He muttered a curse at the lack of illumination, and reached further in waving his right hand around in the empty air. No cobwebs.
"That's very curious," he murmured, and then poked his head down inside next to his extended forearm to listen.
Errr-pla-plink, err-pla-plink. Splash!
Splash? Jack arched his brows and drew quickly back, a twinge in his bruised knee making him wince. "Ow! So what sort of steps, I wonder, is it what go straight into water, eh?" He leaned against the dark wall, rubbing at his leg as he sadly pictured a modest fortune in jewels bobbing out to sea. Away from him - as treasure was wont to do even before the curse. Yet at the same time, it was hard to suppress a grin when he could see the bewildered looks on sailor's faces as the little bejeweled stone head floated by their ship! "Your welcome, mates," he sighed, already a bit depressed by the loss.
Should he go after it then, and the devil with the darkness?
Odds were good that there was no water below when the temple had first been built, he reasoned to himself, pulling an errant leaf out between the beads swinging at the side of his head. Or they hadn't taken into account that there was a lot of water close by.
Or maybe they had. Maybe that really was their purpose here.
"Temples are for the worshippin' of -- what?" Jack groaned, turning back to face the wall in frustrating darkness. The atrociously rendered images both tantalized and confused him. What if he'd misread the symbols' meanings because he had failed to see the completed sketch? What if said wall - the one that he could not see just inches beyond his nose, had a huge warning, done in that same sad handiwork, plastered all across it:
'Danger! Stop! Enter Not The Lair Of The Sea Beastie!'
Jack shuddered at his own presumptive interpretation. Well, that could help explain why none of the statues had their jeweled eyes missing. He had trouble though, with the idea of a riled little sea beastie snarling, and robbers fleeing like their tails were afire! Amused, he smiled in the darkness.
"Oi, was it little sea beastie what I said, Mr. Gibbs?"
"Hmm, can't rightly recall as it was. Here, have yerself another rum, Jack, and tell me and the lads here, how ye got off the island!" the old sailor enthused inside the pirate's head.
"Ahh, now that's an interestin' story, to be sure," he mused somberly. "How was it that I did? Will have? Plan to?" He finally offered himself a mental shrug.
Weak daylight peering through the carved holes behind Jack, began to fade as if a trail of heavy clouds passed over the sun, but an accompanying chill breeze across the chamber promised a storm approaching. "Time to be goin'," he decided hastily, thinking about the water below and the chances that it may well rise above the steps when it rained. The widest and lowest of exterior holes was not at floor level, as one might expect, but about even with Jack's chest.
Apparently, these natives did not see the necessary convenience of a simple door when they had two perfectly good upper windows and a rather trick entry port up on top.
Unfortunately, the sudden swirling of wind had disturbed more than leaves and dust on the chamber floor. Just as he took the first blind step toward the temple's maw, a warning hiss emanated from off to his left - too close to the opening. He froze, belatedly recalling to his dismay, what had caused him to drop the valuable statue head in the first place.
Bugger. Nothing worse than an annoyed snake. All fangs, fork-tongue and coil-ey – just like the little sea beastie whose lair he really didn't want to be any closer to.
Remaining tensed against the wall, Jack quickly mapped out the darkened chamber from memory, even as it grew grayer outside. No, it wasn't all that big. Maybe he could fit six tightly packed longboats inside, but the way to the roof was also on the opposite side of the single opening. Two stoic statues stood between him and the steps. He considered somehow tipping one of them over into the hole, but the likelihood of getting the trajectory exactly right was not the same as aiming a ship's gun at a close target.
A horrendous reverberating clash of thunder on taut nerves made Jack gasp. The snake hissed its menacing reply as the entire chamber flashed white. One horrific glimpse of the trembling red crest, threatening yellow-gold eyes above outstretched fangs now less than four feet away, and the terrorized pirate let out a squawk, which Cotton's parrot would envy, swung down into a nimble crouch and lurched through the hearth-like entry, barreling into the dark tunnel with no other rational thought other than to escape the chamber and its wicked boarder.
Of course, he forgot about the short steps just inside.
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TBC:
Part 7e – Have A Drink On Me, Your Nibs
- Such A Pretty Headdress
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AN: Small homage to Indy there. As for Jack, well, he's been island-bound and alone for a while now, and it's starting to take its toll on him – as you see.
