Blood of Avalon

by ellennar

AU for DMC, AWE, & ST Cannon for CotBP - A tale in which Will's search for the father he never knew brings Jack face to face with his own past.

11. Of Swords, Shrunken Heads, and Sunrises

Author's notes: My apologies for last time!! Here's to hoping (praying, rain dancing (well, maybe not rain dancing as there are crayfish having a party in my new front lawn), ect.) that the posting of this one goes smoother than the last one!!

Typically Head-Over-Heels: Ack, no! Not whining, anything but whining :). Seriously, I'm writing as fast as real life will let me. Mallory is an incredibly persistent chap.

Christian: Welcome!! Glad you enjoy the history 'cause there's even more in Mallory's "journal". (For those who hate it - bear with me or run screaming from chapters 13-15)

Dragon Hunter200: Ellyllon and perfect most certainly do not belong in the same sentence any more than human and perfect. Though in defense of the Ellyllon very few children (outside of House Penthalion) actually die in the angheuol. The father is permitted to interfere in any way he sees fit and in most cases the Draig 'hunt and destroy' instinct is at war with a human mother's natural inclinations so most hunts are half-hearted at best.

Generally speaking I try to drop hints along the way so all kinds of little throw-away lines become more important later. Amazingly enough, as long as these chapters are most of them are actually getting trimmed.

Beautifully Immortal: Welcome to my obsession! Unfortunately this chapter is pretty quiet in the present. (We do get some flashback action) I also altered when a certain punch gets thrown to get us a little more action one of Bill's flashbacks (much to Mallory's disgust since he was all for slugging the silly git from the beginning). Chapter 11 likewise is quiet in the present with a bit of flashback action. We should make up for it in Ch 12 though when Jack's wanting of Mallory's journal leads to: a kidnapping, the Pearl sailing headlong into a pitched battle between French and English Naval warships, a daring rescue, Mallory indulging his vicious side, some nasty backlash and a clever snatch of the journal (not necessarily in that order with a few incidentals and the collection of a few strays along the way.) It should be a nice long chapter of mostly mayhem. Does anyone happen to know if there are any hard and fast rules for the PG-13/R break for violence?

Little Bird: Jack and flight – I argued with myself whether or not to answer this one. Jack should not be able to fly even with his great potential skill with air because he lacks Mallory's raw power. All that inbreeding has produced in Mallory what almost amounts to a force of nature (when someone hasn't ripped holes in him). A lot of the time Mallory just bulls his way through. He's tossing all that magical 'muscle' around to get to places he doesn't necessarily have the skill, talent, or training to go. On the other hand Jack has the potential to 'finesse' air in a way Mallory can't (and will never be able to). But Jack also has the proverbial ace up his sleeve so…I've outlined four potential endings for this story. In honor of the rules I've laid down for Jack's "wild" talent when I get to the proper chapter the ending will come down to two rolls of the dice. If at an opportune moment Jack doesn't get off the ground we get ending A – bittersweet at best. If he does we get b, c, or d. B is the happily ever after, c is another bittersweet (and the topic of Meleri's prophecy in the pervious chapter) and d is – d is bad. If I suddenly tell you I'm refusing to finish you know the roll. I'm not sure I'm up to doing that to my boys.

On the topic of Mallory's "middle child" – the ship's name has been mentioned but it has never directly been called a magic ship. Let's just say that guilt over the slaughter at Isla de Muerta wasn't the ONLY reason the original James Norrington committed suicide. But more on Mallory's "bad seed" later…

AriannaMalfoy: Welcome! And just because a story is long and complicated doesn't necessarily mean it's good. Your story has good grammar, an interesting plot, is more in character than this one (well, I do imagine Norrington a little stuffier than you do but that's just me), has intriguing possibilities, and tantalizing hints of more twists to come – what's not to like?! (Well an update is always nice….;).

Titan's Fan 545: Welcome and enjoy!!

Hecate: Also welcome and thank you!! I'm glad you enjoy the little bits of humor (actually I'm glad they ARE humorous – tragedy I can write. Humor I have trouble with). I also seem to have fumbled with Mr. Not Cotton – He is (or at least was) human but the Ellyllon and the cyfae have been using him as a football. Mallory is going to be quite displeased when he finally figures out who he is (or was I should say before all the magical mayhem). But that's another story for a later chapter…

PirateBlackSmith: Welcome as well – any eta on another Fallen Man update?

Falcon's Wing: Nothing in the 5 books I have on pirates mentions a breakout in 1672 (though 3 of them don't have indexes – who writes a book without an INDEX?!) I'll be keeping my eyes open on my next library run.

Meleri was actually a bit of a surprise from my subconscious – originally her presence as a 'normal' ghost got Mallory thinking of all the other prophecies she'd made. Then all the sudden as I'm typing she's in the story in 'reality', giving a completely new prophecy, and trying to order Mallory around from 'the other side'. Spooky. Makes me wonder a bit if we're going to see anything else from her later since I'm not completely sure what she's up to. Maybe I should not be up writing at 3:45 AM after all…

But on with the story…

Blood of Avalon: Chapter 10 Of Swords, Shrunken Heads, and Sunrises

"Mallory said he should be waking up now" Elizabeth sounded terribly worried. Can't have that – it isn't good for the baby. A baby – Elizabeth and I were going to have a baby. I wonder if she'll mind if we name her Catherine after my mum?

"Never saw Mr. Mallory wrong 'bout healing in the surgery, Miss Elizabeth" Gibbs said comfortingly.

"But he's so still and pale" she whispered as her hand took my own. I tried to squeeze her hand but my fingers felt as if each one weighed a thousand pounds. She lifted my hand, rubbing it against her silken smooth cheek. She sniffled. 'Don't cry' I tried to say 'Please don't cry.' With supreme effort I managed too force my suddenly leaden eye lids open and was met by the most beautiful sight on earth – Elizabeth smiling at me. There was a series of crashes followed by some curses that really should have made Jack blush. I tried to ask a question but lacked the strength. Elizabeth knew what I wanted anyway.

"He's been like that since we all woke up a little while ago." There was a louder crash "I assume he's looking for something" bang "and not having much luck" thump "finding it." Shatter. The harp at Elizabeth's right flinched and whimpered with every sound. With difficulty I caught my father's eye and then looked down at the harp. Good God even moving my eyes was hard!

He nodded at me and went out of my line of sight.

"Mr. Gibbs if you would be so kind?"

"Why certainly, Miss Elizabeth." He went behind me and heaved me gently into a sitting position. 'Not in front of Elizabeth!! I am NOT an invalid!' I wailed mentally before nearly sliding right off the palette. Mallory had said I'd feel miserable. I had assumed that meant I'd be sore or sick. I was neither actually. Aside from the fact that my body seemed to weigh three and a half tons I felt fine. The misery was to my pride and I found myself wishing I could fall back asleep. He could have warned me I was going to become the human equivalent of a piece of overcooked pasta! Was I going to stay like this for another two days?! Gibbs made a second more successful try at propping me in a semi-upright position. Elizabeth started spooning some broth into my mouth which promptly dribbled back out the other side. I could feel the flush suffusing my face. Can I die now?

"Good of ye whelp te give Lizzy some practice for later" Jack sounded completely serious – as if I actually had a choice in this. "Now, Lizzy"

"It's El-iz-a-beth."

Jack just gave her a cheeky grin "If ye keep doing it that way all yer going te feed is his shirt and me brother"

"Brother?" several voices interrupted.

"Aye, we had a bit of a chat, Mallory and I after the rest o ye blokes dropped off. Now, me brother says that yer te eat all o this and the more Lizzy feeds yer shirt the less in yer belly, savvy. So watch carefully lass" Oh please no, Gibbs and Elizabeth were bad enough but now to be fed by Jack!! And in front of my father? I wanted to melt into the deck. But this time I actually managed to swallow. He deftly gave me two more spoonfuls before passing the bowl back to Elizabeth. I had to wonder just were Captain Jack Sparrow had picked up that particular talent. As Jack rose the harp touched his cutlass and whispered "Artorius?"

He dropped down to her eye level while Elizabeth started shoveling soup into me with more success.

She flinched back into Elizabeth's skirts and sighed "Neb, Artorius am marw. Lladdedig am Mordred ap Artorius. Either chwi adhil Penthalion. Pwy am chwi?"

It was odd to hear Elizabeth's voice coming from the harp.

"Captain Jack Sparrow" he replied while giving her his most charming grin.

She let go of Elizabeth's skirt and looked at him curiously "ap Mallory?"

"Neb, ap Aub" about the same moment Jack stopped abruptly short of saying his father's full name the harp gave a little shriek and clawed her way back into Elizabeth's skirts.

"Naddo, boddhain, naddo, naddo" there was a frantic, panicked desperation in her tone that would have been heartbreaking in any woman but hearing it in Elizabeth's voice was like a sword in the gut. I wanted to help her. I needed to help her and I was ironed flat to the palette. My best efforts managed no more than a flutter of my fingers which was (depressingly) actually an improvement. Elizabeth paused looking torn as to whether she should keep feeding me or comfort the weeping harp. There was a whisper of steel as Jack drew his cutlass and laid it on the boards.

Fy clyddef am eiddo gwieni." I'd never heard Jack speak so slowly. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he obviously picked his brain for every bit of El'lan he could remember. "Fy tadogi dim gallu chwi asgen yma." The harp paused in her weeping. "Chwi diogelu yma." She giggled, then snickered, and finally laughed hysterically before cautiously peeking one brilliant, Caribbean blue eye back out at us. She was beautiful. Almost entirely bone white except for the faint blush of rose in her cheeks and lips, the pale brown hair, and her intensely blue eyes.

"Jack, what on earth did you say?" Elizabeth asked as she spooned the last of the soup into me.

"I thought I was offering her the services of me sword and protection from me father but I'm not exactly fluent in El'lan."

"Or she's seen you fight" I retorted and was utterly surprised that I succeeded in speaking. I tried moving – my hands felt heavier than the hammers I used in the forge but I could at least raise them a little. Better – not at all good – but better. I wondered what was in the soup since it seemed to have worked wonders.

Jack grinned back at me "Don't recall ye winning against me, whelp."

"You cheat" I grumbled back "You ignore the rules of engagement"

"I know in a fair fight ye'd kill me." As he started to pick up the cutlass his eyes met mine "Ye don't think?"

"No – it couldn't be" I returned as I remembered the day I tried to replace that piece of junk with a real blade…

Someone was watching me. I could feel it. I whirled away from the forge a glowing, nearly finished, sword in one hand and hammer in the other.

Jack Sparrow gave me a jaunty golden grin "Is that how ye greet all yer friends?"

"Jack" I hissed torn between exasperation and delight.

His face fell a little "Thought ye'd be pleased te see me, whelp."

"I am but" I paused to set both sword and hammer aside. The fool hadn't even bothered to disguise himself "if Norrington's men catch you."

"They won't – I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy?"

'Idiot, daft idiot' I thought.

"Ye didn't think I'd miss yer wedding now did ye?"

I sighed and mentally counted to ten "You can't possibly plan on attending like that."

Jack glanced down "Thought I looked pretty dapper, if I do say so meself."

He did, but he also looked just like Captain Jack Sparrow better dressed. And in spite the fact that most of the outfit looked like it had come from the tailor today he was still wearing that ratty old hat and battered cutlass. I gave up on talking sense to him and instead picked up something I'd made for him – just in case. I held perhaps the best sword I'd ever made out to him.

"Nice work" he said running his eyes down the blade and giving me a questioning look.

"Take it, it's for you."

"Why thank ye, whelp, but I already have a trusty blade" he patted the tired pommel fondly. "Besides, I thought ye were suppose to get presents for yer wedding not give'em."

"The wedding isn't for another two days Jack, please take it." I'd have thought he'd be eager to be rid of that piece of poorly forged pig iron.

"It's beautiful, Will, but it isn't for me. I promised the man who raised me I'd never part with this one."

"So keep it, hang it in your cabin but for God's sake Jack please use this. I don't want to hear that that piece of scrap metal broke and you were killed or captured because of it."

The mad man just grinned at me "Ye sound just like the man who gave this to me." He sighed "I'm touched that ye care, whelp, but this is a better blade than it appears to be." He unbelted the scabbard and tossed it to me. I pulled the blade free and tried to balance it. Perfect, utterly perfect. It couldn't be. My eyes said it was unwieldy but it balanced perfectly. I tossed it, caught it easily, and gave it an experimental swing. It sang through the air still incongruously perfectly balanced. I sliced at one of the metal uprights fully expecting the blade to shatter and then he'd accept the one I'd made him. Except it didn't. It bit deep into the steel and slid cleanly free without leaving so much as a scratch on the blade. Both of us froze as Norrington's voice carried in from just outside. Jack reclaimed his sword and melted into the shadows…

I blinked at Jack "You said Mallory gave it to you?"

"Aye just afore the trip to Isla de Meurta when we took the Mariposa…

He laughed aloud at the little brig that had foolishly dared to attack the Pearl and gave the red no quarter flag she was flying a roll of his eyes. "Are they mad?" he asked Captain Mallory whose keen green eyes were watching both the Pearl's crew and the approaching ship like a hawk.

"No, but they are desperate and desperate men will do mad things" he replied calmly. "Aim for the rigging, fools!" He bellowed at the gunners. "The next scabberous dog who puts a hole under her waterline will be used to plug it! Prepare to repel boarders in the stern. All hands at the ready!"

He whirled in surprise as a fly boat so laden with men she was shipping water over her gunwales attempted to grapple with them. How in blazes had Mallory known they were coming up behind?

"Eyes in the back of his bleeding head" Mr. Matthews muttered as he passed him.

He overtook Mr. Matthews eager for the fray as the lightly manned starboard guns kept roaring at the little brig – keeping her at a safe distance he realized while they dealt with the boarding party. He'd wondered earlier why Mallory had bothered firing on her with the long nines at all. If he wanted her as prize for her captain's lunacy then better to let her grapple and kill or capture her crew than to waste shot blowing holes they'd only have to patch later. Now he understood. A quick count showed that they were actually outnumbered even without the pirates crewing the brig but no matter. He was Jack Sparrow. And he had Mallory and the Black Pearl – together they could beat thousand to one odds – what were a score or three of extra pirates? He joined his fellow crewmen at the rail as they fired a volley at the men swarming up the ropes He shivered a little, not liking actually killing as his man vanished into the blood stained depths. Fighting was exciting, killing wasn't. He determined that in a few more years when he was pirate Captain Jack Sparrow there'd be as little bloodshed as possible. Had anyone actually managed to sack a town without a shot fired? Mallory would know. If they hadn't then he would be first. Make his mark as the pirate who took the most loot with the least blood – that's what he'd do. Something better te brag about than roasting women alive. He pulled his eyes away from the approaching dorsal fins as the first pirate cleared the rail by Fleet. He dropped his musket and pulled his cutlass.

'Too thin' he thought as a pistol shot sent the man backwards into the jaws of the hungry sharks. The Pearl's crew had sent over twenty men into Davey Jones Locker without impressing the pirates at all.

'Crazy' he thought and gave them another look 'with hunger' and then there was no more time for thinking – just for staying alive. There was no strategy to them. This was no fencing match – it wasn't even a Tortuga style brawl. He drove his cutlass deep into the man in front of him and then kicked him free of the blade as quickly as possible as he danced back. Desperation gave them a wild strength as they fought regardless of the odds.

He pulled one of his pistols and put a ball into a man about to gut Mr. Matthews and looked up at an ambulatory mountain. God, but he was bigger than Peterson! Speaking o Peterson why couldn't this bloody ambulatory land mass pick on someone nearer his own size. He grabbed a second pistol and fired or tried to. Damn! The powder must have gotten wet. He swallowed and back pedaled – he was soon to be Captain Jack Sparrow and he wasn't stupid. There's an opportune moment for everything and this was the moment for a strategic retreat. The mountain had other ideas and lumbered after him ax in hand. He fled right into the rail. Double damn! He deflected the first swing of the ax his blade protesting the abuse and his shoulders screaming in agony against the jolt. As he caught the second he could almost hear Mallory's voice telling him to never block like that because the blade would. He just missed getting his throat slit by the shattered bits of his own sword. He wished he could have lived long enough to hear Mallory say 'I told you so' was his only thought as the ax came flashed downward in a fatal descent. Only to lodge in the rail instead of his head. Interesting, very interesting. As the mountain toppled he noticed the tip of a white dagger protruding from the bridge of his nose. Ah, well, that explained it. Must have been one hell of a throw to sink it all the way to the cross guard – right through his skull – impressive, really. Triple damn – Mallory to the bloody rescue again. Bit annoying that. Now he was going to hear Mallory say 'I told ye so'. Speaking o Mallory if his dagger was here then he was unarmed. Not good. O course, he looked down at the broken hilt in his hand, he wasn't exactly armed anymore either. He glanced around the melee on deck. Mallory had apparently appropriated one of the pirates' cutlasses and was making very good use of it. Lovely idea. He wrapped a hand around the dragon hilted dagger Mallory had never even let him touch and gave it a tug.

About time a sibilant hiss echoed through his mind still thirsty. Hurry! There's more killing to be done. Whatever possessed you to throw me in the first place? .

Not him, another a second hiss with a different voice.

How sweet – fresh meat from the first. He tried to release the dagger but found himself unable to do so. He could feel something cold and dark brush against and then slither around his soul.

Why have you not been brought before Us? You are well past the hour of choosing the hiss was angry.

He just froze – still and silent and prayed that he hadn't really gone mad and that no one would notice him on his knees in the fallen mountain's shadow as the battle continued about him.

What is your name the other demanded equally furious.

Don't give it to them! someone else shouted in near panic. There was something familiar about that lilting voice that bellowed in fierce defiance. He is NOT for you!

He carries the Blood the first snapped.

And the Blood is ours from the second

His Blood is mingled. You have no claim. You shall not have him. He is not yours.

You have no right to defy US, Nameless One the second spat.

But I do, and I do it well you could hear the smirk in the third voice.

The first voice was weaker, further away and the cold feeling in his soul retreated. One day, Nameless, you will misstep .

And we will have you the second voice was little more than a whisper but the menace in it was crystal clear.

Catch me if you can the third voice challenged – uncowed and utterly fearless.

He let the dagger drop onto the Pearl's blood soaked deck. What in the name of God had that been about? He shook his head to clear it as a shadow fell across him. He wrapped his fingers around the broken hilt of his old cutlass. Be damned if he'd touch Mallory's dagger again.

"Well that isn't going to do you much good" Mallory noted as he rammed his dagger into its sheath angrily. "Mr. Matthews take a prize crew and get that hole patched. I want her pumped and ready to sail in two bells. Mr. Sparrow, you're with me. Peterson see to the flyboat. Fleet, inform Dr. Blood I will assist him with the wounded presently. And somebody secure that sail, double time. Move it ye scurvy knaves, I want the blood off the decks, the dead ready for burial, and the rigging repaired. Now!"

Every man still able to walk scattered like a leaf before a gale. No one, but no one, wanted to run afoul of the Captain. The men respected his seamanship, his fairness, and his cleverness. They appreciated a steady wage and the added bonus of a fair share of any captured goods either from pirates foolish enough to attack or Mallory's occasional foray into privateering. But with William Kidd long gone there wasn't a man left aboard other than himself brave enough to meet the Captain's icy green glare. It always struck him as a bit odd since Mallory had never actually done anything particularly dark and depraved.

The captured pirates cowered in a pathetic little huddle as a dozen crew men kept them covered and Bailey put shackels on them. He shivered a little as Mallory pulled that white dagger free. White, not red, no blood and he hadn't cleaned it. He pushed the memory of that hungry voice complaining about being thirsty away. He was NOT daft and daggers do NOT talk. Mallory stepped in front of the first pirate who threw his head back and glared defiance. He blanched and dropped his eyes almost immediately. He wondered - what it was that everyone saw in those green eyes that was so frightening? He'd heard the hands whisper about how it was as if the Captain could see all the way to a man's soul and having once been weighted in those scales you never wanted to chance it again. One by one he worked his way through the pirates, parting them into three small groups and one poor soul off by himself.

"Bailey – these go to the brig" he waved that dagger at the largest group. He turned to the middle group "My first mate needs help pumping and repairing the brig you stole. Give him fair and honest assistance and I'll set you loose in Petit Groave. Cause him the least trouble and you'll share your erstwhile compatriots' fate." He gave the next four a hard, cold look "I could send you down to the brig with your fellows and let the law deal with you but I don't trust you to behave yourselves for that long. I accuse you of roasting a poor woman alive while demanding she tell you the location of treasure she didn't have. I find you guilty. The sentence is death." He moved so quickly none of them had a chance to protest before they ended up feeding the still frenzied sharks. He sheathed the still white blade. There were no protests – most of the crew had been in the tavern when the five of them had wandered in bragging about the deed. Most o the men had just given them a wide berth and ignored them. But when they put into Vera Cruz a few months later Mallory had hired them a pair of horses and ridden out to the spot. It had been a very grim Mallory that had ridden back. He recognized the last man now. While his mates had boasted of the act he'd buried his head in his arms and wept, not caring one whit for what was being said about him and his womanly display of vapors. He stood quietly watching, waiting patiently.

"I could use another good man" Captain Mallory offered "if you'd like to sign on. If not you can join those with Mr. Matthews and go your way in Petit Groave."

The man gaped "But I was with them. I was there when they. I stood aside and. I deserve to die."

Captain Mallory caught his eye and held it "You did her no harm."

"But I gave her no help either!"

It was a rare man that would not only match the Captain's stare but bellow back at him. He was either very brave or very foolish – or looking for death. He measured the slight young man in front of Mallory and decided that looking for death was the most likely choice.

"No, four to one is poor odds and you are not a swordsman. You would have merely died with her."

"Instead I live as a coward" he retorted fiercely.

"No, as a good man who made a mistake, or perhaps several mistakes. I rather think you will be wiser now. Wise men learn by example while the rest of us muddle through our messes to whatever scraps of wisdom we can claw. What good would your death do? And more importantly, Gerald, what harm would your death cause? Who do you leave behind? What price does another pay for your honor?"

The disheveled young man opened his mouth to make an angry retort and then his face flamed. He straightened. "I'll sign yer Articles. Ye won't be sorry."

Mallory inclined his head and then turned to him "Sparrow would you be so kind as to await me in our cabin while I check with Dr. Blood?"

'Dismissed to wait in his room like a bloody child' he seethed inwardly but he went anyway still carrying the useless hilt of his cutlass.

He ought to have been helping not sitting in here. He sighed, sat on his bunk, and started idly flipping through a collection of the writings of Philips van Marnix heer van St Aldegonde whose whole point seemed to be that a king had no right to force the conscience of his subjects. He set it down and glared at the 'Letters of Henry Navarre' – all ten volumes. Nobody should write that many bloody letters. The way Mallory talked about 'em ye'd think he knew em personal. Just as he was about to begin pacing Mallory entered. He paused in the doorway and stared at him long enough that he started to become uncomfortable under those green eyes.

"Is something amiss?" he finally asked.

Mallory just gathered him up in a fierce hug instead of replying. Shaking – he realized in surprise – Mallory was shaking. That frightened him more than the mountain had – Mallory was not the jittery type. Odd, he could swear he was being crushed against brocade and lace with what felt like inset gems not Mallory's rich, well cut, but Puritan plain garb. And come te think on it he felt thinner and shorter too. Interesting. He shifted a little glad that this particular display hadn't happened on the deck. There were enough whispers about what exactly Captain Mallory kept him so close for without anyone else seeing this. And Mallory keeping the ladies at arms length only added fuel to that particular fire. Not that anything ever had happened but that didn't stop the talk. Only Mallory's actual presence quieted the wagging tongues.

"I thought he had you." Mallory whispered in a rattled voice into his ear as he finally let him go. "All I thought that throw was going to do was avenge you."

"Aye, well" he said a bit flustered "no harm done. All's well that end's well."

Mallory knelt in front of the dragon chest that he'd never been able to get open (in spite of numerous discrete attempts) and pulled out something swathed carefully in clothe of silver. He went up on tip-toe to see into the chest but all he could spot over Mallory's broad shoulders was an odd walking stave. He was a little disappointed when a battered old cutlass was what all that silver cloth was protecting. The cloth was probably worth ten times what the sword was. Mallory stayed on his knees, cradled the blade reverently in his palms, raised it above his lowered head, and presented it to him. Odd chap, Mallory. He gingerly took the blade, slid it free of its tired sheath, and gave it an experimental swing. It felt right, so utterly and completely right in his hands – as if it was a part of himself long sundered. A piece he'd never known was missing.

"It's better than it looks" he allowed to Mallory who looked more uncertain than he'd ever seen him.

"One day Captain Jack Sparrow you will discover that many things are not as they appear. Promise me you'll never part with it."

He tucked the scabbard into his sash "It's just a bit o metal."

"Promise me you'll never part with it."

He flashed Mallory a grin trying to get him to lighten up a bit. It didn't work. "If it means that much then I promise not te part with it."

Mallory inclined his head, shut the trunk, and pulled a pair of pistols from somewhere else. "I'd meant present these to you in a couple more years but you nearly died of their lack today. They'll never misfire. Their powder will never fail. You can shoot them underwater if you have to."

Daft – the man was daft. There was no such thing as pistol that still fired when wet.

"Ye'll be having Mr. Matthews serve as prize captain for the brig?"

"Matthews will be bringing the Mariposa into port."

He shook his head – the Butterfly. Why did Mallory insist on renaming every captured pirate vessel something ridiculous?

"Ye'll need someone to bring the fly boat in – unless ye intend to scuttle her."

Mallory arched a dark brow at him "She's small enough to tow."

He sighed a little in disappointment and Mallory glanced at him. You could see a war raging in his eyes before he tossed something squarish at him.

He caught it. "What's this?"

Mallory gave him a long-suffering glare "What does it look like?"

He flipped it open "It doesn't point north."

"It will if you're trying to find north. It points wherever you wish to go. I had planned on trying to drum a bit more about navigation into your head before handing you an excuse to forget what little you've learned." He was twisting the silver cloth in his hands – undoubtedly crinkling it beyond repair "But if you're going to bring in the fly boat it's best you have it. Take Gerald and one other of your choice as crew and meet me in Petit Groave." His gaze dropped to the cutlass and he looked even more worried.

"If yer that afraid I'm going to lose it then keep the bloody thing" he grumbled.

"I think I'm more afraid of where he might lead you then where you might leave him but he'll never break on you in battle. And I don't think I'd ever forgive myself if I withheld him and you ended up dead because of it. At least this way I'll never hear that you were killed or captured because some piece of scrap metal broke on you." He forced a smile that didn't reach his green eyes "Go on – you've only got an hour and there are no provisions on that thing. The fools were reduced to eating their shoe leather."

He gave Mallory a jaunty grin and turned to go.

"A moment" Mallory called after him and he turned back reluctantly, certain that Mallory was going to renege, but instead he dropped a slightly battered hat on his head and gave him a more honest grin. "There, can't be a proper captain without a hat. Now off with ye Captain Jack Sparrow – we both have our own work to do." Then he muttered something in that daft fairy language of his and he could have sworn the sword at his side replied in kind…

Elizabeth was giving Jack a wide eyed look "He talked about Excaliber last night but he couldn't possibly have meant…" She narrowed her eyes "Why would he give you the sword of Britain?"

Personally my question would have been why did Mallory have the sword of Britain?

Jack ignored her in favor of the harp "Beth yr ewn am dyma cleddyf?"

The harp gave him a bemused look at first and then you could see her puzzle out what Jack was trying to ask.

"Caladrwlch" she chirped blithely unaware of the affect on us.

All eyes turned to the sword in front of Jack. The harp gave Jack a long look and then reached out and yanked on one of the beaded braids swinging from his chin. Jack gave a surprised yelp. Everyone else snickered the moment broken. The harp disappeared back into Elizabeth's skirt. I squirmed a little or tried to. The soup had been wonderful but it had made another need much worse and trying to laugh hadn't helped matters. Something must have tipped Jack off because he rammed the sword back into its sheath and told my father "Ye get his other side, Bill."

The two of them levered me to my feet and proceeded to more or less drag me in the direction of the head. It would have worked much better if both I and my father weren't several inches taller than Jack. We staggered few times like a bunch of Tortugan drunks. I could hear Elizabeth trying not to laugh and failing.

"Where's Mallory?" I asked Jack urgently once I completely gave up on trying to move my feet.

"According te Pearl – under the hull" again that flash of jealousy in Jack's eyes which I took to mean Pearl was enjoying whatever it was Mallory was doing. I thanked every deity I'd ever heard of that I at least had the wherewithal to take care of business myself even if it took Jack and my father to keep me upright.

"There it is" Jack crowed triumphantly, nearly dropping me, as he snatched up a worse for wear and missing at least a third of its pages book from beside the head.

"Sparrow" my father growled at Jack who blithely ignored us both initially pleased as punch with his find before his eyes narrowed angrily.

"Well, whelp, I think that's enough excitement for now."

Nearly getting dumped face first onto the head when I hadn't a prayer of breaking my fall was more 'excitement' than I ever needed.

"Let's just get ye tucked back inte bed."

Laying back down was heavenly. I'd never been this tired in my life and I hadn't done anything! I clung to the fact that he'd made me promise to stay in bed three days that had to mean that at some point getting up would be both tempting and possible. Jack was leafing through the tattered remnants of the book that had so nearly been my undoing.

"Joshamee Gibbs" Jack said far too sweetly.

Gibbs froze "Aye, Captain."

"What was me old log book doing up by the head?"

"Well, ye see Captain, it's like this" he took a nervous sip from his flask. "The lads, well they don't put much trust in readin' and writin'. They figured it'd be terrible bad luck if the wrong sort o folk were te get a look see at yer log."

"Do ye actually think I'd write something incriminating down in me log?!"

Gibbs looked even more nervous. "Well, not intentional like, but them lawyers are a tricksy bunch, Captain, the lads figured it was best to" he took another nervous sip "dispose o the evidence."

"Ah" Jack pinned Gibbs with a look that would have done his brother proud "Well, ye just let 'em know that they can keep their arses off me log books and if the pages I'm looking for are gone there'll be hell te pay."

"Aye, Captain" Gibbs nodded and fled.

Jack leaned back and laid the book aside.

"Weren't you looking for something?" Elizabeth finally asked.

"Aye, missy, but at the moment I think I'd like to hear Bill's side o the story."

My father blinked at Jack in confusion.

"Why did ye let us all think that Gibbs was the last one te see Mallory? Why didn't ye just bloody say ye'd seen him a couple o years ago?"

My father went pasty white "Don't know what yer talkin' bout, mate."

Jack spread his hands "I would have though a brush with becoming a shrunken head would be memorable. Didn't think ye were old enough te be that senile, Bill."

My father flushed deep crimson "He told you about that?"

Jack shrugged "I'd like te hear yer side afore I make any decisions."

I nearly blurted that Mallory had in fact told us nothing at all. He'd just made a startled comment that Jack was using to shamelessly manipulate my father into telling the whole tale. It was wrong. It was deceitful. I really should say something – except I didn't.

My father turned away from Jack and focused on me "I thought, I really thought that Mr. Mallory was going te, he certainly made it sound as if he intended." He got up and paced restlessly "I'm sorry, lad, please forgive me fer being a bloody coward."

I just blinked back at him in confusion while he turned to Elizabeth "Ye were a lovely bride, lass."

'My God' I thought, thunderstruck "You were at the wedding."

"Aye, Mr. Mallory jumped through hoops te get me there and then I went absolutely yellow." He glanced around at the handful of crew and the Governor surrounding us. "I'd like a moment with me son" he snapped.

Jack rolled to his feet and started bellowing orders. My father caught Elizabeth's arm "Ye're family now lass, best ye stay. Ye too Jack." He rubbed his hands together and then rubbed his face. "Ye've got te understand, son, I thought ye'd been dead fer eight years. Fer eight years I'd been trying te die, figured with everything I ever loved gone there wasn't much point te living. Lacked the guts te burn meself alive but I found something that even with the curse could make the world go away. Never did find out what the native medicine men called it. They used it in tiny quantities in their ceremonies. A few moonlight appearances and they were leaving me offerings o it. I didn't even notice when the curse lifted…

Swirling colors, glittering lights, drifting, always drifting in the nothing. Purple fog. Orange lightening. A touch, hands. Blinking rapidly, the colors inside overlaying the all greens at the edge of the rain forest.

"Dragon's breath, Bill, and I thought Bledri was a mess." Hands again rolling me towards the speaker – cat's eyes staring at me. He wrinkled his nose and pressed a bejeweled hand te it "You smell worse than Newgate and Fleet combined." He wiped the hand he'd touched me with off on a vine, vainly trying te rid it o the clinging black snot. Sounds – just sounds none o it made any sense. He gingerly touched me face and all me colors went away.

"No" I pushed at the hands wanting me colors back as I whimpered fer me fog but they were gone. All gone, everything gone. Sad, so sad. Tears trickled down me cheeks. Tried te stop not sure why. Not sure why I was sad. The pretty green eyes were worried. So green, greener even than the rain forest around us. Things were clearer but only a little. Good, didn't wan'em clear. Forgetting was better.

"Bill?" Green Eyes whispered. Familiar. I should know Green Eyes. He rocked back onte his heels and his brow furrowed. "Dragon's Blood, goblin's tears, and all the little fishes in the Sea what have you done to yourself?" he muttered aghast. An ear flickered and he looked up.

"Come on, we've got to get moving."

I knew the sounds should mean something but I couldn't puzzle out what. He wrapped a hand around mine and yanked me te me feet. Or tried te. Didn't wanna go. He braced himself, pulled harder, and then stumbled when I rose. A quick glance off te our right, followed by a hard shove towards the river. There was a boat on the river, just below the waterfall. Green Eyes' bird boat, pretty little boat, but it had buff sails not black. There was another boat wasn't there? Jack's boat – but Jack lost his boat. Poor Jack. Who was Jack? Green Eyes gave me another shove and I fell. Green Eyes yanked me back up angrily. Didn't wanna go te the river. Never, never te the river. Why not? Oh, yes. Green Eyes had te stay with the water and I didn't wanna see Green Eyes. He was looking back behind us. I bolted left away from the river. He was after me in a flash but he wasn't use te the forest and the vines caught him, slowing him as he used his white, white dagger te cut himself loose. He wouldn't be able te find me in the thick, thick forest.

I leaned against a tree breath coming in painful gasps as me side felt like someone had run me through. It didn't use te do that – did it? Not sure. I pushed away from the tree te go farther from the river when a silver and red blur knocked me off my feet. Three monkey darts sank inte the tree where I'd been standing. Poor monkeys. Poison darts. Green Eyes hooked his arms around me own and sent both o us rolling down the hill. We didn't get far before the undergrowth stopped us but he yanked me up so quickly I could barely keep me feet as he herded me toward the river again. He kept us running until I couldn't breath then he pulled us off the trail and inte the brush. Our pursuers stopped in confusion. Maybe they had some of the color powder. I tried te go te them but Green Eyes held me still. Very strong, Green Eyes fer being so little. I started te call out te them but Green Eyes covered me mouth so I bit him. He didn't flinch. They were wearing white paint. Didn't me Indians were red and black? No matter – they all had the color powder. I tried again te get loose and then bit harder swallowing blood and grinding me teeth against bone. Something snapped under me teeth with a satisfying crunch. The Indians went off up the trail and I cried wanting me colors back. Green Eyes forced me jaws open with his other hand and slowly let me up. I started to bolt after them but Green Eyes caught me with his bloody hand and hit me hard with the other. Darkness.

I didn't like Green Eyes. I didn't like bird boat even if it was pretty. Water, water everywhere, and She wouldn't let me off the boat. I liked Her even less than Green Eyes. Days, and days, and days, and days, lots of days without me colors. Green Eyes making noises instead. Not nearly as nice. I glance away from Her te Green Eyes. Maybe I should pull on his pointy ears again – except he'd hit me last time I did that. He was making noises again but not te me. Good.

"No, Grin"

"He's a lost cause" I glanced back – that was a voice I'd never heard before and the noises made sense.

"I don't believe in lost causes" Mr. Mallory snapped back "I just haven't figured out how to fix him yet."

"We both know there things you can't Heal. This is one of them."

"I've never tried before" Mr. Mallory protested.

"You've been trying for a month. Congratulations, he's stopped drooling; now if you could just convince him to stop urinating on me life would be grand."

"What do you suggest?"

There was a long silence "The next time he tries to go overboard – tell Sea to let him."

"No" Mr. Mallory sounded furious.

"Rhys" 'Who is Rhys?' I thought. "Rhys, please listen to me. You won't take him to Port Royal and you can't keep him for the rest of his life. Is it concern for him or your own pride that won't let you concede defeat?"

"Why can't it be both? I know he did this to himself but his son isn't dead."

WILL WAS ALIVE?? – I opened my mouth to speak but I couldn't seem to remember how to. I looked up at the full moon and down at myself. The curse was broken and Will was alive! Mr. Mallory didn't notice my pleading eyes as he continued arguing with the Peregrine.

"I'm not Christian to condemn a man to Hell Fire for committing suicide but I'd like to be sure he's done it with both a clear head and all the facts. Damn it Peregrine – he doesn't even understand that he'll drown. All he wants is that thrice benighted stuff he's been snorting up his nose for the better part of eight years."

"That's not your fault" the boat returned.

"I know it isn't but I have a few more things I'd like to try before… It's not over yet, Grine."

The boat sighed "Just please don't do anything too reckless Rhys. You already came far closer than I like to ending up a shrunken head dispensing bad advice to some jungle shaman for the rest of eternity. He isn't worth it."

"Hey" Green Eyes protested indignantly – the words were blurring into noises again "how do you know it'd be bad adv…"

I didn't like bird boat. Even She was better. I wandered over and pissed on the mast.

Back with Indians but on an island – still water everywhere and they didn't have my color powder. Not fair. A presence behind me as I sat in the hammock starring out across the village. Bejeweled hands on me shoulders. Green Eyes again. The hands began to quiver slightly.

"Bill? Please?"

I kept staring out hoping he'd go away. The hands moved one bracing against me neck the other cupping me chin. I stiffened tendrils o fear creeping up me spine. I turned and looked at Mr. Mallory but the bigger than a robin's egg ruby glinting like a third eye in the middle o his forehead caught me eye. Damn thing had te be worth a king's bloody ransom and that was ignoring the rest o the shine in that crown. Someone had painted his face up like a jungle Indian. I marveled that they had actually found a paint green enough te match his eyes.

He sighed "Bugger all, Bill – what am I going to do with you?"

I didn't answer. A gentle touch and sleep claimed me.

I awoke to the sound of children's laughter. I open me eyes te the most ridiculous sight I had ever seen in me life. No, that simply could not be. I closed me eyes and reopened them. I did not believe it. Not even the most far fetched o the strange visions the powder had given me was that ludicrous. I rubbed me eyes before reopening them again. Alright – I've simply gone mad – or else Mr. Mallory has. Jack was right – Jack was always right. Mr. Mallory is daft as a loon. I sat up deciding I simply must have a better look.

I'd had no clue Mr. Mallory could juggle. Actually he was as good as anyone I'd seen performing in me time at court. Never would have thought the utterly, unremittingly serious Mr. Mallory would indulge in such frivolity. But that wasn't the real shocker. That he would do it balancing on one foot on a rope with what looked suspiciously like the poison darts that had been shot at us was odd but not mind boggling. The flashing o his many ruby rings as his hands flew te keep the darts in the air was mesmerizing all on its own and I would never expect him te lay aside his crown. No, the real mind blower was that he seemed to have replaced every stitch o clothing with green and white body paint. The image o a pointy-eared, bejeweled elf standing butt naked in green paint on one leg juggling poison darts was not something I was ever going te forget. Not sure how long I just sat in the hammock blinking before I just burst out laughing. The children all whirled giving me wide-eyed looks before scattering like flushed grouse. Mr. Mallory neatly caught the darts (avoiding contact with the tips I noted), leapt nimbly off the rope and strode over te me. He still had that 'I own the world' walk. No sign o shame or modesty at all in spite o the fact his wardrobe consisted o jewelry and paint. I'd always rather considered Mr. Mallory te be something o a prude what with his avoiding the doxies and all. Apparently I was mistaken.

"Who are you?"

"Ye know who I am." Both dark brows shot up.

"Aye, I do but I'd like to know if you do" he replied eyes suddenly kindling. Good God, they were glowing.

"Bootstrap Bill Turner."

"And your real name?"

"William Blake."

"Where were you born?"

"London, England."

"What's 317 times 6?"

I thought a moment "1,902."

He threw back his head and crowed in triumph. Wouldn't have expected that o Captain Mallory either. He flashed his prefect white teeth at me "Damn, I am good."

He straddled the hammock alongside mine letting his legs with their wild green designs dangle over the sides while searching me eyes with his own. That grin got even wider "I told you I'd find a way!" he exclaimed to the breeze. Or to the Peregrine I suddenly realized as little bits o events trickled inte me mind. I took a better look at him while he was distracted and wondered how long it had been. Long enough that the cat-eyes and pointy ears seemed natural though I had a terrible yen te pull on the tips. I suddenly remembered that I had and had been cuffed for it.

"You hit me" I said rubbing me chin.

He was still grinning "You hit me first, you bit me – several times, you pulled my ears, you kick like a mule, and you tried to strangle me – you don't exactly have much room to complain, Bill."

I couldn't seem to make all the pieces fit. Some of the memories were like glass shards, brittle and cutting, others swirled away like the smoke in the wind.

"Where are we?" I finally settled for asking.

"Shamatari" he answered with a wave of a glittering green, white, and sun-bronzed hand "I'm not quite sure though if that's their name for the island or themselves. I suspect both."

"What happened?"

"After I hit you? I played hide-and-seek in unfamiliar territory with a dozen odd cannibals. When they got tired of dying I proceeded to schlep your uncooperative carcass to the Peregrine." He canted his head "You know for being as underfed as you are you still weigh a bloody ton."

That was a marvel all on its own. If me memory o that day in the forest was right then he couldn't weigh more much more than two stone to my eight.

"Ye shouldn't have bothered" I muttered. The curse being broken didn't change the fact that Kitty was gone. It didn't erase the memory o placing a stolen rose next te the stone me young son had carved te mark her resting place in the pauper's field. And it didn't undo the fact that that bastard Barbossa had murdered Will on account o me foolishness.

"Perhaps not" he allowed "but it seems to me that you're being terribly selfish."

"How? There's no one left te miss me" I snapped angrily, angry at having been pulled back inte the light o life. Angry enough te lose both me fear o him and me discomfort at his naked state.

"I think that your son might have a different opinion."

"Will's ALIVE?!" I recalled him saying it te the Peregrine but I hadn't really believed it. Truth told I didn't believe it even now, probably wouldn't until I saw him with me own eyes. But I couldn't deny that fer the first time in far too long I felt hope stirring.

Utterly earnest green eyes met and held mine "He is alive. In less than a month he takes a bride. I think he would be quite pleased te see his father among the wedding guests."

"Why?"

He arched one dark brow at me "While it hasn't been my personal experience it's been my observation that most lads like to spend time with their fathers."

"Not that. Why do ye keep doing it?"

He started juggling the poison darts again "Would you care to narrow that down? I do a great many things."

"Why do ye keep saving me? Newgate, New York, Seville, the cannon, and now this."

He caught the darts and locked them in a chest at his feet "Don't take this wrong, Bill, but it has never been just about you. Newgate was about Rhys Norrington and a promise I made a 167 years ago. As for New York I already told you. Sparrow would never have forgiven himself if his stupidity had gotten you killed in Seville. As for the cannon I needed you to help me save Sparrow. Speaking of Captain Jack Sparrow I rather think he would also be well pleased to see you alive. I suppose you could call this time professional pride."

I didn't quite know whether I should be angry, confused, hurt, or relieved by that statement "Professional pride?"

"I tried more than once to reach you in the interior with the news of Will's survival but you were always too far inland. A little more than three months ago I was sitting, swathed in shadow, watching your son in a lip lock with the lady of his dreams and Jack Sparrow finally back where he belongs as Captain of the Black Pearl when it occurred to me that while Sparrow had turned the curse into a lovely happy ending it was still a bit shy of perfect."

Those faint stirrings o hope began to grow "What about that bastard Barbossa?"

"Shot dead, by Jack, to save your son's lady with the very same shot you loaded for him ten years ago."

I chuckled and it felt damn good. That was Jack fore and aft, no one else would have or could have held on te that same bloody ball fer ten years. Ten years – it suddenly occurred te me that I hadn't laughed in over ten years.

"Those members of his band of miscreants that weren't out right killed by Norrington's men after Will broke the curse were made into a delightful set of wind chimes at Execution Point."

"Norrington?"

"Rhys Norrington's younger brother James commands the garrison and the Royal Navy vessels assigned to Port Royal."

It was a marvel sometimes how small the world really is.

"But that's superfluous really. My point is that I decided as I was not cursing the whole bloody town of Port Royal that both Sparrow and your son's happy ending was missing a gent about so tall and answering to the name of Bill. And since neither Sparrow nor the whelp knew where to find you I resolved that you would be my contribution to events. Professional pride – you know fairy godfathers are supposed to have something to do with happily ever afters." He leveled a pale shadow of his normal glare at me "You have not been terribly cooperative Bill."

"Will and Jack together?"

Mr. Mallory just gave me a grin, God but he looked so much like a younger Jack, right down to the dark kohl under the eyes. "Not my tale to tell William Blake – if you want to know how your son saved Captain Jack Sparrow from the gallows you'll just have to ask one of them."

Just as I opened me mouth to protest me jaw sagged at the sight o the most beautiful lass I'd ever seen in me life. I was suddenly very glad I didn't share Mr. Mallory's naked state. I'd never betrayed me Kitty that way but I wasn't dead! She on the other hand had eyes only for him. Like Mr. Mallory she was wearing nothing but green and white paint. I ripped me eyes from her with difficulty and realized that I was the only one in clothes. The children went completely naked while the adults wore paint and a few beaded items that covered nothing important.

"Pei, Ihiroithawe."

"Euo, Breimi." He waved a hand in my direction "Bill yanaiki." It was only when she offered me me pick o the tray o fruit she was carrying that I realized she had blue-gray eyes. 'Like the sea just before a storm' I thought. I shot Mr. Mallory a questioning look before picking up some of the fruit as me stomach gurgled in anticipation.

"The sole reason the European powers haven't stripped this island of both its people and native forest is that it's ringed in razor sharp reefs." He waved a hand toward the Peregrine in the little bay. "It's a lovely harbor if you can thread the maze into it." I looked out at the water. There wasn't so much as a ripple in the little cove but I shivered as I watched the breakers crash further out against hidden reefs. I'd seen once what they could do te a ship. I didn't ever want te see it again. "From time to time some fool attempts it. The Shamatari welcome whatever survivors there are into their midst. At this point there's probably as much European as Indian blood in them."

A man bedecked in more feathers than a flock of parrots smiled toothily at Mr. Mallory "Ihiroithawe Breimi heorope."

Mr. Mallory looked like a man cornered in a distinctly uncomfortable position and when he spoke I didn't need te know the meaning o the words. This was a courtier trying his damnedest te weasel his way out o a corner.

About four or five sentences inte whatever he was blathering the lass broke inte tears and bolted. Both Mr. Mallory and Feather Man watched her before Feather Man spat at Mr. Mallory's feet. Te me everlasting surprise Mr. Mallory flushed deeply and hung his head afore rising to follow the lass at a leisurely pace. I swung out o me own hammock and set off in pursuit. Be damned if I was going te sit here while he wandered off God knows where. Mr. Mallory was no more than ambling but it wasn't long before I was struggling te keep up. He glanced back and then turned te wait fer me. Which gave me a much better view o Mr. Mallory in all his glory than I ever really needed though it did rather put te rest all o the eunuch rumors. I was used te pointy ears but not this which I took te mean we hadn't been here long. Too broad in the shoulders for the rest o him – which probably meant that one day he'd be a bigger man than Jack – not just taller but bulkier too. At the moment though he looked te be in that lanky coltish stage with arms and legs both a bit too long fer the rest o him. Or maybe that was just the way o his people. On the other hand he rippled when he moved – every muscle in relief. The artist at court could o used him for a model. As I finally caught up I looked down at his chest, not willing te meet his eyes and having no yen te look down further.

"Ihiroithawe?" I asked.

"It's who they think I am. Ihiroithawe is the spirit who controls the weather, particularly hurricanes. Watch those, they sting" he deftly maneuvered us away from a small stand o innocuous looking plants. "The first time I arrived Turaewe was beseeching Ihiroithawe to turn aside a hurricane. When I arrived and did exactly that" he shrugged "The Shamatiri decided I was Ihiroithawe regardless of my opinion on the matter. And since I have been manipulating their weather ever since I suppose it's close enough to true. Now Turaewe would like to cement things via a marriage alliance with his daughter."

"I take it you're not inclined te agree."

He sighed "She's a child."

I kept silent – but if I hadn't know better I'd have though him the younger o'em. That lass was no child. "Ye're unarmed."

"This is one of the few places where I have that option. For whatever reason this island is inaccessible from the Cynfyd, it is well protected by the ring reefs from the outside, there are no predators, and the Shamatiri themselves have nothing but slingshots. My blades are always left aboard Peregrine while I am here. Besides normally the Shamatiri strip anyone arriving here of all their mesoma. Items that are not traditionally Shamatiri don't last long. My blades have enough attitude as it is I don't even want to think of their reactions to a Shamatiri cleansing ritual." He gave me another grin "The only reason your clothes didn't go up in smoke is because I managed to convince them that you're a spirit like me and you need them for your magic."

I swallowed very, very glad I hadn't woken in nothing but paint "Do ye spend a lot o time here then?"

"Off and on for the last six years or so." He caught me arm. "Let's give her another few minutes."

"That lass thinks she's in love with ye" I said as we listened te her quiet weeping.

He sighed and leaned against a tree "I never should have let it get this far but you grow up so bloody fast."

The lass looked te be fifteen or sixteen te Mr. Mallory's maybe fourteen but I knew he had te be over a hundred.

"So why don't ye wed the lass?" 'Lord knows' I reflected 'if common wisdom aboard the Pearl had held that Jack Sparrow needed te be taken down a few pegs it equally held that 'stick-up-his-arse' Mr. Mallory was in dire need o a good lay.

He pinched the bridge o his nose "It's complicated."

Bloody arrogant courtier "Don't ye mean she ain't good enough fer the likes o ye?"

If looks could kill (and it occurred te me that I had no proof his couldn't) then I died on the spot. And it'd be just me luck that on the very day I discovered I really did have something te live fer I'd end up dead. He pushed away from the tree without a word, stalked over te the lass, and gave her the gentlest o touches on the shoulder. Mr. Mallory was quite the charmer when he set his mind te it and if the hardened doxies o Tortuga melted then this poor native lass didn't have a chance. A minute or two o native gibberish and she was giving him a smile as he dried her tears. She skipped down the trail ahead o him. He glanced back at me "Why don't you join us Bill?"

It was phrased as a request but it was a command – pure and simple and I didn't like the look in his green eyes at all.

I glanced down at me scarred hands and shivered. White dagger or no Mr. Mallory was never unarmed.

I stepped out o the forest onte a small bluff overlooking the sea. Mr. Mallory was standing between two o the oddest contraptions I'd ever seen in me life. Both o them were painted like butterflies and looked te be made o silk and wood. The lass was wrapping some sort o harness around herself while Mr. Mallory nodded te the second whatever-it-was.

"I thought I might introduce you to something I gleaned from Da Vinci's works."

"Who?"

Mr. Mallory rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Breimi always wanted me to turn her into a butterfly. I'm afraid this is as close as my poor talents could come," he said as he wrapped the second contraption's harness around me. Breimi gave me a smile a man could lose himself in and Mr. Mallory shoved me off the bluff!!!

Jagged rocks!

Raging surf!

Reefs!

I let out a shriek o pure terror that the wind whipped away. I squeezed me eyes shut not wanting te see the end and suddenly me downward momentum stopped and I started going up.

"Our Father that art in heaven

Hallowed be Thy name.

Thy kingdom come.

Thy will be done

On Earth as it is in Heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread.

And forgive us our trespasses

As we forgive those who trespass against us.

Lead us not inte temptation

But deliver us from the evil one.

For Thine is the kingdom and the

Power and the Glory forever. Amen" I muttered nearly incoherent with fear.

"Matthew 6:9-13" Mr. Mallory's voice came from directly below me "and you can open your eyes. It's far too beautiful a day for flying to miss."

I shook me head, unable te catch me breath in the gale winds.

Mr. Mallory sighed "Coward."

I peeked a little and panicked again at the sight o island and sea far below.

"It's alright Bill" Mr. Mallory said soothingly.

"Ye bloody son o a bitch! Ye put me down right now!" I screamed in the direction I'd last seen the bloody bastard.

The wind stopped abruptly and I tumbled a few feet.

Mr. Mallory tsked "Do you honestly think this is a good time to insult my mother?"

The wind caught me again.

"Now open your bloody eyes Bill before I do let you fall."

I pried them cautiously open. It was terrifying. It was exhilarating. It was beautiful. The little island and the colorful reefs were spread out below us in all their glory. There was a ship off in the distance. Its white sails billowing te catch the wind. The lass laughed in sheer joy while Mr. Mallory hung in the air between us. I started te relax a bit still afraid o a sudden drop inte either sea or tree tops but God! Is this how angels feel?

After a bit Mr. Mallory landed us gently back on the bluff before touching down himself. He went down on his knees and it was only then that I realized sweat was pouring off him. The lass extracted herself from her harness and skipped off while I just stared at the tangle in more confusion than me first day aboard ship. After a couple o minutes Mr. Mallory came te me rescue. Damn but he looked exhausted as he slipped me free.

"What are those things?" I asked as we started back towards the jungle and the village.

"Breimi calls them ahisha, butterflies. She wanted to fly with me so badly but I can't carry any kind of weight when I fly. Hell if you went off the bluff right now I'd be hard pressed to land us safely much less soar. The ahishas help but it still isn't easy." He accepted a leaf cup from her and drank like a hard run horse. I struggled te keep me eyes on her face instead o straying inte places no good Christian man ought te be looking. O course if I'd ever been a good Christian man the events o me life had taken me far afield and it'd been a long time. If Mr. Mallory wasn't interested in the lass then mayhap her father wouldn't mind a different spirit taking the wedding vows.

I took a step toward her, smiling.

"Bill?" there was a thread o warning in Mr. Mallory's voice. I glanced back at him "If ye aren't interested in the"

The next thing I knew I was up against a tree struggling for breath utterly convinced that all o me ribs were broken. I hadn't even seen him move.

"Breimi iba yoma" he hissed up at me. I didn't need a translation, some things are primal and 'my woman' is one o'em. I swallowed and relaxed against the tree. I was a dead man. I could see it in those cat green eyes. He dropped me as abruptly as he'd attacked. I could see jealousy, anger, embarrassment, and confusion flash through his eyes. Some things are primal and some are instinctual – he hadn't meant te attack me.

"I meant no offense" I whispered in me own best soothing voice.

He'd finally settled on anger "Get aboard the Peregrine. I'll meet you there presently."

As I turned te go I glanced at Breimi. Well, I might yet die fer me presumption but the lass at least looked like someone had handed her the moon on a platter.

"So it is that ye found yerself a girl!" Jack crowed to his boots. Well, I guess if Mallory was under the hull somewhere that made a certain amount of sense.

"The only question little brother is why weren't ye wooing said strumpet?"

"Because he couldn't" I said looking at Jack like the daft idiot he was.

"Mallory wandering about without his bloody dagger? That says something, whelp. It says he considered it safe to be unarmed. And if he was safe enough to be unarmed then the lass was safe as well." He half turned and barked "Gibbs"

Mr. Gibbs looked like a man about to face the gallows. "Aye, Captain?"

"Would ye be so kind as te fetch me me charts o the coast o South America – that is providing that the lads haven't used those te wipe their arses as well."

"Course not, sir, safe and sound they are. I'll just be getting' em fer ye."

Jack put his hands together and set his chin on them while looking at his abused log book "I'm having a thought here, one that I don't like at all." He glanced back up at my father. "Yer pardon for the interruption, Bill, but me manners have suffered from me association with Mrs. Turner. The lass is a terrible influence. Ye best watch that she doesn't lead yer son astray." Jack gave Elizabeth a wink and glanced down her bodice as she leaned across as if to slap him. "Ah, ah isn't there someone else ye'd rather felt the back o yer hand?"

"His brother will do just fine in the interim." She cracked him good to emphasis the point but he still managed another lecherous look on her way back.

"Don't think I deserved that" he muttered.

"Captain Jack Sparrow" I growled "that's my wife."

"O course she is, whelp" Jack looked at me as if I was daft "I was even there to see ye slip the ring on her surprisingly firm hand." He rubbed his cheek and glanced back to my father "But we were speaking o a different jealous not-quite-husband."

"I didn't know what te expect te be awaiting me aboard the Peregrine…"

There was tense watchfulness aboard that was different from those terrible days both before Jack's rescue and its aftermath. It made the hair on the back o me neck stand up it did. Mr. Mallory had sent me on ahead in the dingy while he concluded a few matters ashore. I wondered if he'd fly te the ship as I paced the deck nervously and gave a rueful chuckle that seemed to be all I did on this bloody boat.

There was quite a bit of clicking and squealing te port just afore Mr. Mallory came over the rail. Odd that he actually did seem more naked without the paint. He must 'wear' the same pattern a lot because the only places where the Caribbean sun hadn't baked him a uniform golden brown was what the green paint had covered. He ignored me completely as he dressed in that silver outfit o his. I'd knelt before princes and kings and I'd never seen that much shine in one place. The three white, slightly sunken scars on the left side o his chest caught me eye. Never would have noticed 'em if the rest o him wasn't so tan. If the lowest on hadn't clipped his heart then it had come within a hair's breadth o it. Not another scar on him anywhere. Made me wonder 'bout 'em. I'd have also thought it impossible te get inte that get up without help but he managed. Odd I could o sworn as the breeze fanned his long unbraided hair that it was really dark blue instead o black. It was only after he'd tied off his braid with a red ribbon that he finally turned te me.

"You have my profound apologies." God but he looked utterly discomforted. "I have no idea why I reacted as I did" he paused, nervously.

'Cause yer in love, ye blooming idiot' I thought but I kept me mouth shut.

He sketched a quick, fluttery bow "Your pardon" and nearly fled inte the rigging.

As I watched him making ready te raise anchor it occurred te me that he really hadn't known. Six years off and on he'd been coming here. The lass would have been just a child then except she wasn't anymore and after today Mr. Mallory was going te have te quit lying te himself.

"Hey, lubber, quit woolgathering and get moving."

I glanced up to see what he was doing and then grabbed the appropriate rope "I thought this thing sailed itself."

"His name is Peregrine. Yes, he can, for that matter so can Pearl." He dropped back down onte the deck. "But you need the exercise and he's not speaking to me right now which is why we put into Shamatiri in the first place."

I suppose that explained that sense of watchful anger from earlier. As I worked the lines and swallowed me heart with every passing outcrop as we cautiously threaded our way back inte the open sea it occurred te me that I might be a large part o the problem.

"I'm very sorry and I promise not te do it anymore" I whispered feeling like an utter fool but I had relieved meself all over this ship. I wouldn't be terribly happy with me either. I resolved te give him a through scrub tomorrow. Ma always said actions speak louder than words. Now that we were in the clear Mr. Mallory scrambled back up the rigging to loose the rest o the sails. I tried te follow but me muscles were twitching with fatigue. I slumped down onte the deck with spots afore me eyes.

Mr. Mallory caught me "Take it easy, Bill."

"But I barely did anything" I protested breathlessly.

"You did more than you've done in years. Don't worry a couple weeks of good food and exercise and you'll be fine." he slipped an arm around me and proceeded te dump me on the bed o the cabin I'd used ten years ago. "You just rest a bit." I never even heard the door shut…

God but something smelled wonderful. Mr. Mallory popped his head in the door, gave me a completely proper servant's bow, and said with merry eyes "Would you prefer supper in bed, in the wardroom, or on deck, mi'lord?"

This playfulness was something I'd never seen meself before today but Jack had always sworn it was there. I might actually have to apologize for a few o the times I'd called him daft.

I cleared me throat and replied in me best approximation o a courtier "I believe, sir, that the only conceivable local for our repast is at the table."

Mallory arched one dark brow "Bill, you have absolutely no future in acting. The wardroom it is, sir."

Mr. Mallory on the other hand had proper servant down pat. I ran a hand over me close shorn hair and appraised meself in the mirror. When had all that grey appeared? There hadn't been any a few, damn, not a few, eight years. Eight years wasted. I met the gaunt stranger in the mirror's eyes again. I looked terrible even under the neatly trimmed beard. This made the second time Mr. Mallory had pulled me back after I'd let meself go te hell. I turned away from the stranger in the mirror and gave meself a quick scrub with the water and toiletries that he'd left me. I fingered the fresh clothes he'd laid out for me. Those years in the court had taught me more than I'd ever needed te know about fabrics and foppery. Unlike Jack I knew just how rich these really were. I had te grin remembering all Jack's complaints about his plain cloths when he'd been far richer dressed than he'd ever realized. It wasn't just the flash that made cloths valuable it was the fabric and the workmanship and these were finer than anything I'd worn as that bastard Churchill's man at court. I felt a grin tugging at me lips at the thought of Captain Jack Sparrow back on the Pearl. Almost ten years – I wondered what changes ten years out o Mr. Mallory's protection had wrought in Jack. Speaking o me host he was probably wondering what had become o me. I dressed quickly and stopped in the doorway staring at the table set with the finest china, silver, and crystal. Me pointy-eared companion emerged from the small galley with a tray bearing the plump bird I'd smelled earlier.

"Would you like some Medira? or perhaps a fine Burgundy?"

"Rum?" I asked.

His face fell a little "I'm afraid Sparrow drank every drop aboard before he disembarked ten years ago and given my opinion of the stuff I never restocked. I do have mead, coffee, tea, small beer, and ale, would you prefer one of those?"

I shook me head in confusion "But I've never seen ye drink aught but water."

He canted his head "I rarely do, I dislike the taste of alcohol, tea and coffee affect me…oddly, I do rather enjoy pineapple juice but it doesn't keep terribly well. What would you like?"

"Then why do you stock all o that?"

"It is, I must admit, a quaint conceit on my part but in spite of being a hunted fugitive I am trying to have some semblance of a life. Peregrine is poorly suited to cargo but he's an excellent vessel for wealthy individuals seeking swift passage and I do like to entertain. So, sir, your beverage of choice is?"

"Small beer" I muttered staring at the table again.

"Your pardon, Bill" and the settings became something far humbler and I looked up into Captain Mallory's utterly round human eyes. "Is this more to your liking?"

I shivered a little "Just show me what's real, please."

And we returned to the fine elegance and pointy-ears "Are you certain?"

"Yes."

He gave me a brief bow and returned a moment later from the galley with a richly worked silver tankard of small beer. He set it before me and slid in opposite. If the accent had marked him as a courtier watching him eat marked him as (literally) a cut above. It was like watching a bloody dance.

He paused "Is something amiss? If you dislike fowl there is some preserved beef and pork in the larder and I could always have Sea provide some fish. Would you"

"Why?" I interjected to stop the flow o words "Ye're a bleeding PRINCE why in God's name are ye deferring te the likes o me?"

He laid his cutlery aside "First because you are my guest this time and I do believe that a host has certain obligations. Second" he sighed and waved to a small collection of old pistols "I have been beaten, flogged, sent to stake and block, told by those who at least claim to be wiser than I that I am courting insanity, marooned, and threatened many times for no other cause than Healing. For the horrid crime of saving a life" he chuckled mirthlessly. "Human illogic never ceases to boggle my mind. But in all that time I can count on my fingers the number of times I have actually been asked to Heal. Only once have I ever refused. In the cold light of logic it was impossible. As I am I am incapable of reaching London, there are more than a few very nasty beings just waiting for me to enter the narrow seas, your wife would never have survived long enough for you to bring her to me, and even if you did my ability to heal consumption is notoriously erratic. My head knows very well I am blameless but my heart says I'm a coward, a cad, and a royal arse for not at least trying." Cat-slitted green eyes met mine before dropping to his plate "I am truly sorry."

"So am I" I muttered suddenly no longer hungry. I started to push away from the table but Mr. Mallory caught me hand.

"You need to eat, Bill. You're not me. You can't endure without sustenance and you've done your body no favors of late." I started as he glared at me but I could see the gently teasing light under it "All else aside, I'm a damn fine cook and I don't like seeing my efforts go to waste." He canted his head "Don't you want to look your best when you see your son?"

I settled back at the table and took a bite. Who'd have ever thought a courtier knew what cooking was much less how to do it, and to do it superbly. Te bloody hell with appearances I dug in like the starving man I was. As I was sopping up the last juices and picking the last bits o flesh off the bird Mr. Mallory gave me a grin, "Nice to see that my humble fare is appreciated."

"Where did a courtier learn that?"

He shrugged "I have played many roles through the years. I picked up a bit here and a bit there though the sauce that truly sets the whole thing off I learned from my mother. Tastes wonderful but it's absolute misery to get off once you've been marinated in it."

I decided not to ask as he studied me with a frown. I shifted nervously wondering what was wrong.

"My skills as a tailor on the other hand seem to have suffered of late" he shook his head "too much mending sails and not enough fine work. We'll have to readjust your outfit for the wedding just before we arrive in Port Royal but for now I think it's time of you went back to bed."

I fingered the little touches o embroidery on the, te me eyes anyway, perfect shirt "Ye made this."

"Sh-sh, I'd rather not admit to it" he retorted as he rose gracefully and gathered the dishes "Now shoo."

Bloody, thrice benighted, annoying arse windows! The morning sun was an assault on the senses as it streamed in through all that bleeding glass. I tried te put a pillow over me eyes but the movement sent a shock o agony through muscles that hadn't been put through their paces in far too long. What began as a groan ended in a whimper inte me pillow but those pointy-ears seemed te have heard me anyway since the door opened almost immediately.

"Lay on your stomach" it was an order this time in Captain Mallory's tone if not his voice. There was a jangle of rings being removed and then a set o nimble but firm fingers attacked me shoulders. It began as agony and ended as ecstasy. As the clink o rings indicated he was finished I sat up every ache banished "Now that was magic."

He made a sound like wind on water "Not at all, clearly Bill, thou hast never been to Singapore. Very educational, Singapore."

Jack had said something similar, I recalled as I followed him up onte the deck. Made me wonder what I'd missed but I forgot all about that at the first whiff o breakfast.

I dropped the brush back into the bucket bone tired. And was greeted by a basin.

"Wash up and eat" to my surprise he took over the scrubbing.

"What are ye doing?"

He gave the brush a considering look. The last three days had taught me that Mr. Mallory had a far better sense of humor than I'd have ever guessed and that he was every bit as odd as Jack had claimed. He glanced up at me "I appear to be scrubbing. I could, of course, be wrong I suppose. What do you think I'm doing?"

"I know ye're scrubbing the bloody deck. Are ye absolutely sure ye're a bloody Prince?"

"Sh-sh, Peregrine is still annoyed enough with both of us. Don't add insult to injury. I assure you I am a Prince" his eyes lit with a feral gleam that had the hair on the back o me neck standing at attention "and one day when I kill my sire I will be King. I am, I assure you far more proud than those fools who make a mockery of true Blood Right but unlike them scrubbing a deck diminishes neither my dignity, nor my honor, nor my overweening pride. Now" he continued scrubbing with an efficiency o motion that bespoke far more experience than I had "if you're finished you'd better go enjoy your last night in a bed until Port Royal."

"Huh?"

"I promise someone I would deliver a cargo for them. We put in tomorrow to load the ship."

"But this isn't a cargo vessel."

"No, he isn't which is why the cargo is going in the cabins while we end up sleeping under the stars for a few nights. Bed, Mr. Blake, now."

It was odd listening te the hustle and bustle o a port after so long in the jungle. Mr. Mallory (it felt terribly odd te see him without the pointy-ears and not looking a bit like his real self) was discussing somewhat with the harbor master. I gave him one last glance just in case he'd changed his mind but he appeared te completely ignore me which wasn't true o course – it just meant I was te do as he'd told me.

I wandered the market at a loss wishing that Mr. Mallory had come along. I didn't know Will, not really, and Mr. Mallory had been completely mum about both the boy and his lass how was I te find an appropriate gift?

"As I live and breathe" a familiar voice boomed behind me "if it ain't Bootstrap Bill." The pat on the back was almost enough te take me off me feet.

"Peterson" I breathed when the assault was over.

The great bear o a man grinned at me "Good te see ye Bill. Come have a drink with an old shipmate and tell me where ye been." As if I had a choice with one o Peterson's great arms wrapped around me shoulders. Not that I was adverse te a drink o rum in a proper dockside tavern. Mr. Mallory might be the finest cook alive and he did try te keep up a lively conversation but he. Oh, bugger all, he weren't human and he was bloody royalty and both showed when he wasn't playing at being someone else.

The tavern was everything a proper dockside dive should be except that it was empty this early in the day. Peterson thumped two rough wooden tankards onte the battered table in front o us. Mr. Mallory is right – horse piss probably does taste better but give me rot-gut rum any day over that high brow stuff.

"Wish ye'd have been here a fortnight ago, Bill. Ye'll never guess who was here asking after ye." He leaned over the table "Captain Jack Sparrow. Could have knocked me over with a feather when I seen them black sails rounding the point and seen that little banty rooster proud as ye please at the wheel." Peterson grinned "Still just as full o hisself as ever. Was damn tempted te hit him but I swear I could still feel ol' Captain Mallory's green glare. God, but he had us afeerd te even look crosswise at the lad. Got me te missing ye'all something fierce and missing them days on the Pearl with Captain 'Stick up his arse' Mallory. Good Cap't though. Knew how te bloody well take care o his men." Peterson raised his tankard "Te the Captain – wherever the wind blew him" and drained it. Just as he was rising a shot rang out the bullet sinking deep inte the wood. Me first thought as I darted under the table was how in the name o God do ye miss Peterson? I've sailed in bloody ships that were smaller than the man. Peterson upended both our table and the one next te us and looked cautiously around the edge. They missed him – again. I was beginning to get the notion that the safest person in the bloody room was the target. I was just about te ask what in blazes this was all about when smoke began te curl about our feet. The shots had never been meant te kill just te keep us inside long enough fer the fire te catch. Te hell with hiding behind a bloody table! I dashed te the rear door but there was already an inferno raging and even through the wall o flames I could pick out armed men. I coughed me lungs already burning from the thick black smoke. Peterson met me eyes from the front door with a near panicked shake o the head. So we weren't getting out that way either. Just as I set foot on the stairs Mr. Mallory spoke dryly from behind me.

"I swear, Bill, you're nearly as bad as Sparrow. I turn my back for five minutes and here you are trying to become part of a human bonfire. Honestly, I am beginning to think you need a nursemaid."

I just blinked at him in shock as he stood there calmly lecturing as the building blazed around us. I darted over and grasped Peterson arm and we started dragging his bulk towards the rear doorway which was now clear o both flames and men. There was a crash and a terrified wail from overhead. Mr. Mallory froze a moment, looking up, and then yanked the bandolier o pistols I hadn't even noticed over his own head and slipped it over mine.

"Get him out of here. Make for the docks. I'll catch up after I've gotten them out. Make every shot count."

He was gone in a swirl o smoke – carrying enough powder te blow a ship inte an inferno. I breathed a prayer fer the brave fool and the poor souls upstairs and put me back inte pulling Peterson clear.

I shivered as I maneuvered Peterson around the dead men. The bodies were stark reminder te something that the last few days had nearly made me forget. For all his charming graciousness Mr. Mallory was also the most efficient killer I'd ever met. I tucked one o the dead men's pistols inte me belt in addition te the four Mr. Mallory had passed me with the sinking feeling I was going te need it. I'd have taken more but I was out o good places te put another. And I'd drug this great lout far enough. I gave him a solid slap across the face and he moaned. I followed it with a teeth rattling shake. He blinked up at me.

"Are we dead?"

"No but we might be if ye don't get moving." I put words te action and started making tracks fer the docks. Peterson heaved his bulk up and caught up easily. For being as big as he is Peterson is surprisingly quick on his feet. I threw meself around a corner as a shot rang out. Peterson joined me with a groan.

I cocked a pistol and looked around the corner "How bad?"

"Just a graze" he hissed back. I spared him a quick glance. There was a fair bit o blood on his left shoulder but he seemed alright otherwise. Damn, but we were pinned again. The only good thing being that while we couldn't get out without becoming easy targets they couldn't get at us without coming inte me sites. Not that I was too terribly impressed with their marksmanship but it only took one lucky shot. I had exactly five shots and if Mr. Mallory didn't come we would be at their mercy. At least I hadn't heard any explosions – given the amount o gunpowder he was packing if the fire had gotten him there would be no missing it. On the other hand I had no assurances that a well placed bullet wasn't just as fatal te him as te us. I squeezed off a shot and watched one o the men drop. His fellows backed off in surprise and I grinned tightly. Not many could have made so clean a shot from this distance. I wondered again what the hell had Peterson done? Whatever it was men were willing te die over it. I dropped a second man and prayed Mr. Mallory reached us afore I ran out o ammunition since neither Peterson nor I were any kind o swordsmen. I missed a third target as Peterson's weight jostled me arm. I cursed under me breath and glanced down at me erstwhile mate. Unconscious again. The wound wasn't that bad – so what was the matter with the man? I wrapped me fingers around the butt o the fourth pistol wishing for all that shot and powder Mr. Mallory had brought with him.

Another bullet – another man dead. I said a quick prayer for his family as I wrapped me hand around the last loaded pistol. Or at least I hoped it was loaded since it was the one I'd taken off the dead man. I peeked around the corner, watching the men farther down the street, waiting for a clean shot. Me last shot. I wondered how the hell I'd ended up here and what I was murdering these poor fools over. There. I fired and dropped my chosen man. Another pistol cracked nearly simultaneously directly behind me. I whirled as another man dropped dead at me feet revealing Mr. Mallory, smoking gun still in hand. He tossed me two more pistols and cracked Peterson across the face hard enough te split his lips in at least three places.

"Captain Mallory?" Peterson blinked up at him in confusion.

Mr. Mallory dropped shot and powder alongside him "You reload for Bill, Mr. Peterson." He caught Peterson's jaw in his own and forced his head up "And if you faint again you won't have to worry about what Captain O'Rourke will do to you because I won't leave enough of you left for him to play with, are you understanding me?"

"Aye, aye, Captain Mallory, sir."

I shivered as I turned to watch the front o our little nook. On one hand having him at me back made me feel utterly safe knowing that nothing would get past those keen green eyes on the other he was more frightening than all our attackers combined. Interesting how we'd fallen so easily back inte our roles from the Pearl. I'd aimed and fired me cannon on Pearl but it was Peterson who loaded it and Captain Mallory we both trusted te find us a way out o anything.

"Mr. Peterson" how in God's name did he remain so calm? "It has come to my attention that you have claimed something that Captain O'Rourke thinks belongs to him. What are your intentions?"

"Completely honorable, Captain" was Peterson's fierce reply as he handed me another gun. He was loading faster than I could find targets. I allowed meself a grim grin – Mr. Mallory wasn't the only one capable o being deadly and the men down the street were a hell o a lot more cautious now. "And the lass would have yer eyes out fer saying she was ever that bastard's."

"Ah, well you'll pardon me if I don't make your lady's acquaintance, then. Once was far more than enough."

"No thank you Mr. Peterson, best to leave the guns to those who wield them to best effect. That is the real trick to leadership you know, to find each man's perfect niche and leave him there."

"Captain?"

I dropped another target while wondering what the blazes was being discussed behind me.

"I rather think that should do. Speaking of men in their proper places would you be so kind as to do the honors?"

Something was lobbed over me head and the street became an inferno.

I threw up a hand te shield me face before turning around. There were four more dead men at Mr. Mallory's feet and I'd never even had a clue the scuffle had happened behind me. Mr. Mallory was giving the blaze a thoughtful look.

"Perfect" he finally said before sheathing his long white dagger "Gentlemen I think we can now return to the docks in reasonable safety. Mr. Peterson, best of luck to you with the future Mrs. Peterson."

I practically had te trot te keep up as Mr. Mallory led the way back te the Peregrine.

It was only after we were back out te sea that Mr. Mallory dropped his illusion and became once more, te me eyes, the pointy-eared elfling.

"Why do ye look like the cat that ate the bloody canary?"

"Why shouldn't I?" he replied with a trace o surprise. "I got my cargo successfully loaded; I removed a pirate captain and his band of cutthroats that would have become a serious nuisance at the very least and perhaps something more in the next few weeks. In the course of doing so I saved a young woman from, without being overly dramatic, a fate worse than death, and instead gave her the possibility of a happily ever after with a man she's come to love. A man who is, if not a friend, at least an erstwhile compatriot and who would have most certainly died if we hadn't intervened. All without upsetting our somewhat tight timetable" he went back te grinning, pleased as punch.

"Men died back there."

"But only the ones I intended to. The children in the tavern were a bit of a miscalculation but they're fine."

One day you're going to miscalculate fatally, Rhys

I shook me head. Bloody hell, now I was hearing voices.

"Ah, so you do still have a voice" Mr. Mallory replied as me own eyes went wide. The Peregrine, I could hear the bloody Peregrine. Just barely, it was little more than a whisper but it was clear. "Why is it you can't be bothered to chat but you can still chide?"

You take too many risks

Mr. Mallory made a dismissive noise.

What did you gain today, Rhys? Not a damn thing. You put yourself in harm's way for a woman you've never met and a man you don't even particularly like. And why? For a whim. For someone else's shot at a 'happily ever after'. And it's hardly the first time – why?

"Why not?"

I don't know why I even bother the boat spat.

Mr. Mallory sighed giving the wheel a pat "I'm sorry it upsets you. But damn it 'Grine I can't always play it safe."

Who asked for always? I'll settle for occasionally, or at all. Damn it, do you know just how many times you've hovered on the edge of death?

"Actually, yes, I do."

An entire kingdom gunning for you and you have to go out and pick more fights. Take that idiot over there. I know what you had to do to yourself to get that far inland. I know how many weeks of preparation it took. And I know just how vulnerable you were in that jungle – what if one of those darts had hit you? And don't tell me you can't be poisoned because we both learned different

"That was over a hundred years ago."

It was memorable. Three MONTHS in a coma, Rhys. You stopped breathing eight times. I really, truly thought you were gone forever more than once

"I survived."

With a still ticking time bomb in your chest. What happens if you push too hard and rupture that?? And we still don't know what the final result of your little 'experiment' with Blake is going to be, do we? To you or to him. You're playing with more something more dangerous than fire, Rhys, how long until it blows up in your face? And for what? Your PRIDE. It isn't about Cennan, it isn't about Jack Sparrow, and it isn't about Blake it's about the fact that you can't handle the fact you've been completely shut out.

The green eyes lit with rage "No. It is not. Give me a little more credit than that, Grine."

There was a long pause.

If Mannwan, Argellion, and the Altude weren't already dead I'd kill them myself

"You've never hurt a living thing" Mr. Mallory scoffed.

For what they did to you I'd make an exception the boat hissed.

Mr. Mallory frowned in confusion "They never did anything to me."

Train ye up a child, Rhys, and they taught you to never except any limitation or defeat

"And this is a problem?!"

I don't think you realize just how mercilessly hard they drove you. Grit and determination are admirable, Rhys, but you've made them into obsessions and one day either body or spirit is going to break forever if you don't slow down and learn that you DO have limits

Mr. Mallory made another dismissive sound "Worry wart." He stepped away from the wheel and turned toward me.

"It's time to do a little custom tailoring on that outfit of yours" he said before threading his way through the tight quarters below "Watch your footing. The loading got a little rushed and a few of the crates broke."

'A few?' I wondered as I slipped and slid in a river o beads. More beads than I'd ever seen in one place in me whole life in every kind and type known te man.

Mr. Mallory tossed me some clothes "Put those on and meet me back up on deck where we still have room to breath."

As I shrugged inte easily the handsomest outfit I'd ever worn in me life there was a crash from his cabin followed by what could only be the sound of more beads raining onte the decking and some particularly vitriolic cursing. I decided te retreat onte the deck. The Peregrine snickered.

Mr. Mallory tugged at the same hem for the third (fourth?) time.

Obsessive perfectionist the Peregrine accused.

"Who asked you? Besides what's wrong with doing a thing correctly?"

I decided silence was golden.

If Blake had any guts at all he'd walk away. It looks fine

He rose, took a step back, and ran a critical eye over me. He snorted and went back to the offending hem "Boats should not make comments about fashion." He caught me with a green glare "If you fidget again I'm going to nail you in place" he threatened. It would have been much easier to take him seriously if it wasn't for the three beads that had gotten hung on his crown. I'd been hoping that the Peregrine would tell him that he looked ridiculous with them dangling there but you could almost taste the boat's amusement.

A cold, hard knot of terror had been building in me guts ever since I'd come up on deck. This was real. Tomorrow we would sail intePort Royal, tomorrow I would attend me only child's wedding. What was I going te say?? How do I explain? Would he hate me for abandoning me? What about the lass and her family? My temples were pounding and me mouth was so dry ye'd have thought I'd been sucking on a wad o cotton.

"Bill" Mr. Mallory gave me shoulder a gentle touch and I looked down inte his green eyes. Odd, me head knew just how much shorter and slighter he was than me but it struck me anew.

"What's amiss?" how could so cold a killer sound so compassionate?

"What am I going te say? He's going te hate me" I whispered desperately.

He shook his head and one o the beads came loose and hit his eye. He flinched and rubbed it. The kohl didn't smear. Did he use some sort o magic? I looked more carefully and realized what I'd taken te be kohl was in point o fact deep, dark circles. The youthful skin and the bright, determined eyes made it easy not te notice all the other signs o stress and strain but once ye detected one the others became obvious. I nearly reached out meself as he pulled the crown off and picked the other beads off o it and then shook his head sending several more beads that I hadn't seen bouncing across the dark boards. He turned back te me "He isn't going to hate you, Bill. I doubt once you explain that he's even going to be angry with you."

"But I abandoned him" the weight o nearly twenty years slammed inte me. How do ye even begin te surmount that?

"There's a difference between abandonment and fleeing for your life. He'll forgive you."

I remembered that homicidal gleam in eyes "Ye hate yer father" I whispered.

He damn near growled as the mere mention lit something that had me heart hammering in his eyes. I was surprised he managed te speak at all "And he earned it in spades."

"He's the one that put ye in the oubliette" I breathed feeling the fool fer not realizing it afore.

"The oubliette was the tip of the proverbial ice burg, Bill" he ground out.

Seventy-seven years, what kind o bastard could do that te his son? The worst kind o courtier – the kind that cared for nothing but power. I'd seen a few o'em so obsessed that nothing else existed, not decency, nor honor, nor any bond o blood or friendship. I felt a great swell o pity rise up in me for the poor little lad, cause no matter how old he was as we reckoned it he was clearly still a boy te his own kind.

He snarled and this time it was directed at me "Don't even start, Bill. I'll make you a deal. Don't pity me for what I've suffered and I won't pity you for all the things you'll never do. All the marvels your merely human eyes can't see. The sounds those round ears can't hear." He fussed a moment with the offending hem. "It'll do. Take it off and get some sleep."

I turned restlessly sleep the furthest thing from me mind. Mr. Mallory shifted a little in his hammock. His breathing picked up and his eyes danced under closed lids. His hands clenched the ropes o the hammock in a white knuckled grip as he muttered "Naddo" several times. Suddenly the green eyes flew open. He sighed heavily and the rolled out o the hammock te pace the deck in that same tight, enraged manner I'd seen on so many night watches on the Pearl. After a while he flung himself back inte the hammock and stared up.

"I'm going to miss them" he said softly.

"Miss what?" no sense in pretending te be asleep.

"The stars, among so many other things. No stars Under the Hill in Avalon. No moon either in the Sunless lands. No horizon. I'm going to miss them when I am King." He glanced over at me "Would you like me to charm you to sleep?"

I shook me head.

"As you like" he said still staring up.

"I never thanked ye" I said glancing down at the deck "and I should've. So I'll say it now, thank ye, and beg yer pardon for not saying it earlier."

"It's alright, if I ever expected gratitude from humans I learned better long ago. And you're quite welcome, Bill." He looked and sounded so young by the light o the half moon as he folded himself up cross-legged in his hammock.

"What's it like?"

"Avalon?" he shrugged "I don't know, not really, of the eighty-three years I spent in Avalon seventy-seven were in an oubliette and the other six were either under the equivalent of house arrest or in… less pleasant places." His lips twitched but it wasn't a smile "It's likely that my formal coronation will be my first real sight of my Kingdom. If I last that long" he whispered and then tossed his head defiantly, eyes glittering as if daring the night itself. He waved a hand and the ships' lamps lit. "If neither of us is going to sleep there's no sense in sitting in the dark. Are you hungry or thirsty?"

I shook me head far too nervous fer either. He gave me an amused smile "A game o backgammon then?"

I gave the board a rueful look. It was another slaughter. I could excuse some o me poor performance on me distracted state but the truth was I was far out o me league. Mr. Mallory rose and wandered te the rail looking east.

"Bill would you be so kind as to join me?"

I glanced at the near dawn sky in surprise and then moved te the rail.

"There's nothing in the world like a dawn, nothing. Some men will say it's just a bit of color. Dragon's Blood how I pity them. That they can't see that each one is different and unique. That they don't hear the horizon calling them to something new and different. No matter what disaster yesterday has dealt, no matter how dark and drear the night has been every dawn that you live to see holds a promise that tomorrow just might be better. How can you humans lose hope so easily when every morning the sunrise sings a new song? How can you not see it and marvel? How can you be blind to its glory?" He pulled his eyes away with difficulty to look at me "I've pulled you out of the ashes Bill and given you a new dawn" He couldn't keep his eyes off the horizon and they slid away from mine "the only question is what will you do with it?" I let me eyes wander from the sunrise te the bulk o Jamaica just appearing te the north and wondered the same meself.

"Hate te interrupt again, Bill, but we're losing the most important member o the audience" Jack said.

I blinked fighting sleep. I wanted to hear this. I needed to and I had the feeling that getting my father talking again might not be easy but my lids slid shut anyway.

Anthropological note: (just for a change of pace J) The Amazonian Indians did (and likely still do) use a number of hallucinogenic drugs. Most of these (known as epene among the Yanomama) are blown up the nostrils. Along with producing highly colorful visions they also cause the user to excrete copious amounts of bright green snot. The shamans use these drugs in moderate amounts for decades with no sign of permanent damage or diminishment of metal acuity. But there is a second set of drugs that are considered too powerful for anything but shamanic initiations and desperate circumstances. These produce black snot and they are what I have Bill taking. I have no idea whether this second set of drugs would produce permanent brain damage but the fact that the shamans are much more careful about their use says something. Ihiroithawe is the Yanomama spirit of driving rain and clouds. The handful of names and words used in this chapter are all legitimate Yanomama or Yekuana words gleaned out of ethnographies. I couldn't find a word for butterfly - ahisha is actually a kind of bird.

Historical note: The bit with the pirates roasting some poor (in the sense of no money) woman really happened but I'm not sure if it was Vera Cruz or not with my library 40 miles away I'm not inclined to hold up posting to check…