Epilogue:
It had been six months since Emera had been back in Tortuga. As she wandered the streets lazily she was pleased to see that it had hardly changed in her absence. She strolled down a cobblestone street, passing by a familiar brothel. It seemed to the girl that Tortuga was the only constant thing in the rapidly changing world she lived in. The sky could burn but the steadfast port would still be littered with cheerful drunks, alluring wenches and tavern brawls. Tortuga would never change. And that was just the way Emera liked it.
Turning this way and that without really paying any attention to her direction, Emera found herself in an ally that she recognized. Sure enough, it was the very alley in which she had met Jack on her fist visit to Tortuga. The Pirate almost expected him to come flying down the walkway, sweeping her up in his wake. He didn't however. The alley was as calm and undisturbed as a clear day.
'Starboard.' She thought and followed the directions, 'Aye, then Port!'
She stood before a 3 foot gap in a wall. During her first encounter with the knook it had served as a hiding place for her and Jack. How the two of them had ever managed to cram themselves into the small space would forever be a mystery. She recalled the venture as though it had been yesterday and laughed to herself when she remembered how she had punched Jack clean in the face. She also remembered the idea they had while sitting in a stolen boat. Emera rubbed the back of her neck and stared at the knook.
"I wonder..." She mused aloud.
The young sailor reached into the gap. She ran her hand along the rough walls, feeling for what she knew wouldn't be there. It was mad to think that he would remember what they had agreed on. In fact she didn't even know why she was torturing herself. She was about to recoil her arm when her fingers brushed across exactly what she was looking for. A note. A note rolled up and jammed into a cranny in the wall. Her fingers closed around it, drawing it from its hiding place. Emera nearly held her breath as she smoothed out the crumpled piece of parchment.
Black ink covered the note in a sweeping, muddled scrawl. Emera's face lit up as she took in the words and her chest felt lighter than it had in months. It read:
Emera,
It is my pleasure to inform you that since our parting I have had a number of grand adventures that I believe would be to your liking. One in particular comes to mind. Trusting that you receive this in a timely manner, I humbly request that you join me in the Grand Bahamas before Midsummer. I shall be there myself all though June. Meet me in a tavern called The Mermaid's Song. I should like for you to share in my latest exploit. Here's hoping we can convene.
Yours,
Captain Jack Sparrow.
P.S. What do you know of Masquerade Balls?