The wind swept over her with such speed that it almost took her breath along with it. She stood thigh-deep in a field of grass – rolling away, dead and dry in an endless brown swathe. The grass danced with a dry scrape which echoed across the empty horizons. The sky was a thousand shades of red, in which the sun hung like an enormous pale-yellow disk.

Something came towards her, the grass parting with a creeping rustle. She turned to run, but the grass-blades snaked out, wrapping themselves around her body like a lover's embrace as they held her fast. She struggled, but the tendrils only grew tighter. There was a pressure on her ankle and she was dragged below the brown waves, the stalks closing back over her head, leaving nothing but the swaying grass.

Cassandra woke in darkness. She was in her bed, the covers warm and heavy over her shoulders. The feeling of relief that washed over her whole being was incredible. The worrying ache which had gnawed away at the pit of her stomach for so long was fading away, replaced with a comforting sense of safety. She snuggled deeper into the covers and began to drift back to sleep, her breathing growing gradually slower and deeper.

It was at this precise moment she became aware that she was not the only thing breathing in that room.

With growing horror, she realised that one of the blankets was, not in fact a blanket. It tightened around her waist and pulled her closer. She bit back a scream and fought to keep her breathing even and regular. When something nuzzled the back of her neck, her thinly stretched composure snapped.

Twisting sharply, she slammed her elbow into whatever was behind her and leapt out of bed, kicking the blankets aside. As she fumbled in the dark for a door-handle, there was a grunt of pain, a shifting sound, the striking of a match, and then a light flared up in the darkness.

She turned around to see, illuminated by the flickering light of a candle, the angular features of one of the last people in the world she would have wished to find there.

'What in the seven hells are you doing woman?' James Hook grumbled, squinting at her.

Cassandra picked up a book and hurled it at him. He ducked, and it thudded into the head-board instead. 'Get out of my bedroom,' she shrieked.

'It's our bedroom you senseless hussy,' he growled as the second book connected with his shoulder.

Cassandra held up her left hand. On the ring finger was a gold wedding band, the diamond huge and gleaming in the candle-light. She screamed.

The candle flame seemed to detach itself and rose up into the air, a tiny glowing spark dancing in the dark. It flared brighter, the light growing until it filled the whole room. She fell to her knees, clutching at her eyes as the light blinded her.

Cassandra found herself back in the forest, but the things which walked beside her were not men. They looked like things unaccustomed to walking upright had slid into human skin, but did not quite know how to fill the space.

There were flowers everywhere. They spread across the forest floor in a blanket of colour, their sweetly nauseating scent permeating the air. The petals were closed tightly, but as she watched they began to bulge and pulse, bursting open like rotten fruit. Their black hearts began to stir and a thousand, thousand spiders streamed out, crawling down the stalks with such force that they bent and snapped beneath the weight. They trickled down, covering the ground and spreading out in a seething black mass. Cassandra leapt up onto a fallen log. The things that had been her travelling companions stood silently as the spiders crawled up them, until they appeared to be nothing but blackened statues. They began to scuttle up the sides of the log. Cassandra stamped down on the creatures, but for every dozen she killed, another half-hundred took their place. They skittered up her boots. She tried to swipe them away, but there were too many. They clung to her arms, crawling across her shoulders and up onto her face.

'Oh do stop fussing,' said a bored voice, 'they're only a few bugs, it's hardly going to kill you. Besides, none of this is real, remember.'

The spiders and the forest disappeared, melting away into a white expanse of pure emptiness.

'I think we'll be waking up soon,' the other her sniffed, tossing her hair, 'not that you deserve it of course, with all the whining and screaming and hysterical nonsense which has been going on,'

'Oh please, don't act like you don't care, you stopped me from dying.'

'Did I, I really don't recall,' she said. Her face lit up and she grinned evilly. 'Well, well. You and him then. Told you.'

'I'M Sooorrry, but I clearly cannot control what happens in my hallucinations. Also I think the fact that most of the stuff I have been experiencing has been nightmarish should speak for itself.'

'Methinks the lady doth protest too much. He didn't show up in your sub-conscious by accident. And in bed, you saucy minx.'

'Did I mention that I hate you?'

'Right back at ya, sweet thing.'

'I'm not going to miss you, even a little bit.'

'Who says you're gonna have to, doll.'

'Please tell me you're lying.'

'Later days.' She vanished with a laugh.

Cassandra opened her eyes. She looked around groggily. At first her surroundings seemed vague and undefined. She blinked and tried to sit up. Her leg felt strangely stiff, and there was a biting metallic tang in her mouth. There was a shifting from the corner as a shadow lengthened and began to shuffle forward until it resolved into the bent form of an extremely old and wrinkled woman.

'I see you've decided to re-join us living folk,' she said, plumping up a pillow and deftly sliding it in behind Cassandra's shoulders, propping her up.

'Where am I?' Cassandra asked, 'and how did I get wherever here is?'

'You're in my house,' the woman said, 'and as for how you got here,' she cackled, 'the poor man wouldn't stand a chance if I was a day under forty years younger. Nice legs on him. I've always said if a man cuts an elegant figure, it will take him further than a pretty face; and there's a lad who has both.

Cassandra sighed, 'please tell me you don't mean…'

The old woman turned and walked towards the wall with considerable spryness for her apparent age, 'ye've eyes in your head girl, you know well who I mean.'

Cassandra wrinkled her nose, 'he's pretty much the worst person I ever met.'

'Oh but the handsome ones often are. Take my fourth husband – a fine featured rogue that one, and I don't think we ever put two civil words together. But, I didn't marry him for his talking, you can be sure.' She cackled again, 'the stories I could tell you.'

'I'm not entirely sure I want to know,' Cassandra said.

'The young, always so squeamish. Mind your eyes,' she yanked the shutter covering the window open and light flooded in.

Cassandra winced as the light hit her eyes. Instinctively she brought an arm up to shield her face. She heard the sounds of the woman returning and then a scrape as she apparently pulled up a chair.

As her eyes began to accustom themselves to the light, she was finally able to look around properly. She was half sitting, half lying in a narrow bed, with the blankets tucked up to her waist. The room was small, but exceedingly cluttered. Bundles of dried herbs hung from almost every square inch of the ceiling, the result of this being an aromatic and slightly bitter scent to the air. Shelves and tables had been pushed against every available sliver of wall-space, their surfaces covered with an organised chaos of bottles, jars, salves, implements, jars and other paraphernalia.

'Is this real?' she asked doubtfully, 'it has been a little hard to tell recently.'

The woman leaned over and gave her arm a hard pinch.

'Ouch!'

'Real as anything in this world can be,' she said, settling back down in her chair, 'you've been seeing all manner of apparitions, I should not wonder. You were doing a fair deal of babbling, and no small degree of screaming, but with the concoction I forced down your throat, I should wager the worst of that business is behind us.'
The woman nodded sagely, 'it was a close thing, a close thing indeed. A quarter hour later and you would be all set to nurture a lovely little patch of grass. As it is, you have been lying here, drooling all over my pillowcases for four days now.'

'Four days,' Cassandra said worriedly, 'has anything…bad happened while I've been here?'

'Aside from the state of your hair, nothing less than usual.'

'May I ask your name? It feels strange not knowing what to call the person who has been watching me sleep for the better part of a week.'

'You can call me Granny. I have another name to be sure, but I do not think another living soul's spoken it in…well, I couldn't say how long. And, there's no point in picking it up again now.'

'I guess we should discuss the damage to my leg,' Cassandra said, 'the last time I remember looking at it, the infection seemed particularly disgusting. Everything after that became sort of fuzzy so I have no idea how bad it got, but I'm estimating it wasn't pretty.'

'Nasty stuff that poison,' the woman said, shaking her head, 'I would like to put that boy over my knee and give him a good hiding. The good news is, you will live. At least, I have halted the spread of the putrid juices in your blood. I cannot say for sure that a good old-fashioned infection might not set in, but none of this dark and vile rot. The bad news is, you've a chunk of flesh missing, big enough to feed a small family for a week. The antidote only does so much, it stays the spread, but what is done is done, and the flesh will not heal itself, not in the normal way. Down to the bone it was. Should you find yourself unable to leave, then in a week or two, when you are stronger, I should think it wise to take the leg.'

Cassandra nodded, 'well this is hardly ideal, but with my line of work, some kind of hideous and permanent injury was inevitable I suppose,' she said wryly, 'at least this way I'll get a nice fat compensation pay-out if I ever do make it back.'

'Now,' Granny said, 'not another word until you've swallowed down a good draft of this broth. You've had precious little sustenance the past few days, just what liquids I could dribble down your throat.' She handed Cassandra a mug.

Cassandra took a tentative sip and almost spat it back out. Granny saw her expression and laughed, 'I may be a physician, but I do not claim to be any kind of cook. Now another gulp if you please, there is nothing in there that will kill you in such small quantities, and a deal more that will do you good.'

After Cassandra had choked down enough of the concoction to satisfy the woman for the time being, she set aside the mug.

'Now Granny said,' I suppose the next thing you'll be wanting is to get out of bed despite my protestations, so I'll save myself the bed. Besides, if you feel up to it, the king has asked to see you. But, I have no intention of letting you go until I am sure you won't end straight back here with a concussion because you've fainted or some such foolishness.'

She leant over and folded the blankets back. 'Now,' she said, 'slide yourself over to the edge of the bed and swing your legs over, nice and slow.' Cassandra looked down, she was wearing an unfamiliar dress. It was a simple cut, homespun and tied at the waist.

'I burnt the rags you arrived in,' Granny said, 'they were in worse shape than you are.'

Cassandra rolled the hem up and examined her injured leg. It was in some kind of splint, the bandages stretching from hip to toe. She poked at it. The bandages felt stiff and heavy.

'Now,' Granny said as Cassandra carefully pushed her legs over the edge of the bed, 'you will be able to get around with the aid of these crutches. However, on its own, your wounded leg is more or less useless for any actual walking purposes. The bone is mostly intact, so you will be able to put some weight on it, but little else.'

She handed Cassandra a pair of crutches, ensuring they were firmly under the latter's arms before she helped her to her feet with surprising strength. It was a little difficult at first, but Cassandra managed to hobble around. The pain seemed to be gone at least, no doubt Granny had dosed her up with some lethal painkillers.

Granny watched her critically as she made her circuit of the room. As Cassandra's confidence and dexterity began to increase, Granny finally nodded. 'It will do for now,' she said, 'I give you my grudging professional permission to go. But, mind that you take care. And a word of warning, you may feel awfully spry right now, but that's only because the last dose I gave you hasn't worn off yet. Come nightfall and you might feel a little green around the gills, so make sure that you are sitting down. If you experience anything that seems especially horrible, for example if strangely coloured liquids begin to leak out of every orifice in your body, send someone to find me.'

'Thank you,' Cassandra said, 'for everything.'

Granny opened the door. There was a youngish looking man slouched in a chair outside. He had the blondest hair Cassandra had ever seen outside of a bottle. He looked bored, but when he saw Granny he leapt to his feet and practically stood to attention.

'Well, well,' Granny cackled, 'what do we have here?'

The man gulped, 'it's me Granny, Adrian, you told me to wait here.'

'I know who you are lad,' Granny said, 'hard to mistake you, giant lummox that you are. If you aren't getting taller by the minute, eat us all out of house and home you will.' She turned to Cassandra, 'off with you then,' she said retreating back into the room and shutting the door.

Adrian stood awkwardly, shuffling his feet, 'are you well now?' he asked.

Cassandra looked down at her crutches and then back up at him. She raised an eyebrow.

His face turned bright red, 'I mean of course…that is to say.'

Cassandra smiled, putting him out of his misery, 'I won't be dancing a jig anytime soon, but I'm more or less in one piece.'

'I'm Adrian,' he said, sticking out his hand. She clamped the crutch under her arm and managed to shake it without falling over.

'If you're ready,' he said, 'I have come to escort you to the king. He's waiting for you.'

'Good gracious man, I hope you haven't been waiting here for four whole days.'

He grinned, 'only a few hours. Granny sent word when you were beginning to stir. I can't say I am sorry to see you though, she gave me a very uncomfortable chair and said something about young people needing to be toughened up for their own good. Then she poked me with a stick and cackled.'

'I can imagine,' Cassandra said, 'but I suppose it is the prerogative of the very old to make the very young's life a misery.'

'Can I assist you? I mean I could hold your arm. Or,' he said, apparently eager to fulfil his responsibilities to the letter, 'I could carry you?'

'I think I'll manage,' she said, 'but I shall make sure to let you know if my leg snaps in two half way there and I need to be lugged around like a sack of potatoes.'

As they emerged out into the open air, Cassandra was surprised by the proximity of Granny's house to the centre of the village. Since waking up, she had heard hardly any of the noises one would associate with busy village life. Because of this, she had expected that they would be situated somewhat apart. The reason it was so quiet was not because of a separation, but rather because there was not a soul in sight.

As Adrian led the way through the town square, Cassandra was thankful that the ground was smooth and relatively lacking in things which might trip her or otherwise cause her to lose her footing. Her injured leg was ungainly to say the least.

'Where is everyone?' she asked, 'last time I was here, there were at least a hundred people, probably more.'

'They'll all be waiting at the king's house,' Adrian said, 'he didn't want to let the pirates out until he heard your story. And just having them here is making everyone a bit nervous.'

'So, how did you get here then, Adrian?' Cassandra asked.

'Well,' he said, 'I was on a ship and I fell overboard and then I was just, here. It was all quite sudden. I don't mind it though. More relaxing than what I was used to, except when we get attacked of course.'

'When are you from? What year?'

'1962,' he said, 'but that was a long time ago. We're from all over the place here, Bjorn is a real-life Viking, and as it turns out, also my great-great-great and then lots more greats, grandfather. It was nice to meet him, all my family was gone back home.'

'Interesting,' Cassandra said, 'the rift must indeed exist pretty much as a fixed point through time. It's rather surprising that more people haven't ended up here, but I suppose if it's right out in the middle of the ocean. Maybe the size fluctuates…'

The king's house drew within sight. There were people outside, crammed up against the doorway.

Adrian pushed ahead, clearing a path as they made their way inside. The large hall in which she had first met the king was almost full. It did indeed appear that the entire village had gathered. The king was sitting on a slightly more ornamental chair than last time she had seen him, and he seemed to be in conversation with several serious looking people.

The king noticed their entrance almost immediately. He politely put an end to the conversation and turned his attention onto the newcomers. 'Thank you, Adrian,' he said, 'I see our guest has found her feet again. It is good to see you well, Cassandra.'

Adrian gave the king a small bow, grinned at Cassandra and walked back to stand with a group of young men, one of whom was even taller and blonder and presumably the famous Bjorn.

The king smiled kindly at her and gestured towards a chair slightly to his left. 'Please sit,' he said, 'you must not tire yourself. Granny has told me in no uncertain terms, that if you end up back in her care before the week is out, she will take her switch to the lot of us. I do not,' he said, 'doubt her word.'

Cassandra sat down, which was more difficult than it sounds when you can only bend one leg, and carefully propped the crutches up against the arm of the chair.

'Now,' the king said, 'please give us as accurate an account as you can, about the events leading up to your arrival. I realise that you may be missing some details, you were unconscious when you arrived after all, but whatever you can recall would be of help.'

'Well,' Cassandra said, 'how far back do you want this to go, because this story gets kind of crazy?'

'As far back as you believe necessary, I leave it to your discretion. If you are happy to speak, we are ready to listen.'

'Well, alrighty then. After I left the first time…'

The audience listened in silence save for the occasional outburst from a child, or a common intake of breath when she reached a particularly attention-grabbing moment in the anecdote.

When her tale had reached its completion, the king seemed to consider it all for a while.

'Do you trust these men?' he said finally, 'after all, it was you that their captain betrayed. I do not wish to cause the death of men who it is in my power to save, but I cannot justify putting my own people in danger, and we cannot keep them confined forever.'

'I don't know if I trust them, per se,' Cassandra said doubtfully, 'after all, I trusted the Captain to act in his own best interests once before, and I think we all know how well that turned out for me.'

There was a general mumbling and nodding of heads.

'But,' she said, 'while I would not be in this position if it were not for Hook, I would mostly likely be dead if not for Starkey and Smee. I only remember snatches of what happened, but I know that they looked out for me, in Starkey's case, even before the shipwreck. If you force them to leave, they most likely will not last the week, and I would prefer not to have their deaths on my conscience if I can help it. We could just throw Hook out of course, but I rather think that would only engender hostility in the rest.'

'What then do you suggest we do?' the king asked.

'If I could speak with them,' Cassandra said, 'advise them of the situation. If I can make it clear that their continued survival depends on their collective behaviour, then they may keep each other in line. Should he be tempted to make trouble, I think the Captain will find his influence has dwindled along with the size of his crew.'

'I will permit this,' the king said, 'but I insist that Adrian and Raathan accompany you. You are still weak and I do not trust this man. Speak with them, and if they prove agreeable, I will have them brought before the assembly, they may plead their case and then we will put it to a vote.'

Hook was pacing, as he had been doing so for most of the morning. Four days they had been here. Four days, and their hosts had spoken barely a word. They brought food and water twice a day, but save for that minimal degree of human interaction, they had been left entirely alone. Beside himself, there were only seven surviving men: Smee, Starkey, Robert Mullins, Cookson, Ed Teynte, Alf Mason and George Scourie. Should the villagers become hostile, this skeleton crew would stand little chance.

The sound of voices came from outside the door. A scrape of a bolt sliding back, the metallic click of a key turning in the lock and the creak of the door swinging open. Hook watched through hooded eyes, his wrist tucked carefully into his coat.

Cassandra came in, leaning heavily on crutches. She looked thin and pale, with dark circles carved deep around her eyes. She was flanked by two tall men, their faces suspicious and untrusting as they surveyed the room, weapons at the ready. She walked carefully, as if she was not used to the way her bones fit together, and weariness was writ large across the planes of her face.

Hook bent down into a low mocking bow, straightening with a flourish. 'Welcome,' he said, 'to our humble lodgings. Provided for, as I am sure you have observed, with the most generous hospitalities.' He turned to Cassandra, 'I do believe you have brought a pair of guard dogs. But, we are such old and bosom friends, madam, it wounds me deeply that you think such precautions necessary.'

'It would serve you well,' Raathan said angrily, 'to think more carefully before you speak.'

'Oh, for goodness sake,' Cassandra said irritably, 'would someone please fetch me a chair before I fall over.'

There were no chairs in the room, but Starkey whisked over a pile of cushions, and helped her to sit down. She leaned back, stretching her leg out in front of her.

'I am glad to see you alive and well,' he said, 'we heard no word and I had begun to fear the worst.'

'I'm mostly alive, but I'm not sure about well,' she said. 'Anyway, I'm afraid this isn't a social call, apparently I'm here on official business, so could you all please gather around and listen closely, it's story time.'

'Since you seem to be their creature now,' Hook said, 'you may as well deliver their message.'

'You might want to get a civil tongue in that head of yours,' Cassandra snapped, 'don't tempt me. At this point, it would give me great pleasure to see you tossed out on your ear, so watch it.' She rubbed at her leg. 'Basically, if you want to stay I'm going to need an agreement of good behaviour. You will not attack, harm or even pester any person in this village. If one of you causes trouble, you're all out. The king doesn't trust the lot of you, and frankly I'm not sure if I do either. But, if you can convince me, you'll get to make your case to the village assembly. There's no guarantee, but if you play your cards right, and I back you up, you stand a chance of not ending up dead. Now, are there any questions?'

Cookson raised his hand tentatively.

'Yes?'

'They don't trust us, why should we afford them any different. How do we know they ain't about to slaughter us once we let our guard down.'

'Well,' Cassandra said, 'the thing is, I do actually trust them, so you're going to have to take my word for it. Anyway, if they were planning to kill you, why wouldn't they have done it by now? Think about it, you've been locked up here for four days without any weapons, all they had to do was set fire to the building and you'd all be doomed. Anyone else?'

'I have a question,' Starkey said, 'if we agree to their terms, will we be allowed our freedom, or will they continue to confine us for the duration of our sojourn? It would be foolish to say I am ungrateful for the refuge, however I also hold my freedom in high regard.'

'It is not my belief that you will be locked up, however your freedom may be somewhat restricted at first, after all, your only previous interactions have been more violent than not.'

'How long,' said Robert Mullins, 'will we be staying for? All I mean is, we haven't exactly got a ship anymore and unlikely to get another. Will they let us stay permanent like, or is it more of a temporary arrangement?'

'I'm not entirely sure to the particulars, but I'm sure that's something you can discuss with the village council.'

The pirates gathered into a tight circle and began to hold a tense but furtive discussion. She only heard vague mumbling, punctuated with the occasional audible word and surreptitious glance in her direction. Finally, Hook broke away and stepped forward.

'We agree to your terms,' he said formally, 'if you would be so good as to conduct me to your leader, I should be delighted to discuss the conditions of our arrangement, gentleman to gentleman.'

Cassandra wrapped her fingers around the crutches, 'please help me up,' she said to Adrian.

Once on her feet, she limped up to Hook. She looked at him through narrowed eyes, and then her hand shot out and grabbed the wrist tucked into his coat. She pulled it out and looked at the stump with its ugly puckered scar. 'Well, well,' she said, 'not exactly Captain Hook at the moment are you.' She dropped his arm and he slipped it back into his coat, his eyes glinting with angry red darkness.

'You would do well to remember,' he said softly, 'that I carried you through that jungle, your life is partly owing to me.'

'I don't care if you carried me up from the pits of Hades. I blame you for all of this, and it's not the kind of thing I'm willing to forgive or forget. I'm probably going to lose my leg because of you, so don't think for one second I'm doing any of this on your account. You would do well to remember that I'm putting myself on the line here, so swallow your pride for the sake of your crew and we might all just live to see another sunrise.'

As she turned to leave, a blanket of tiredness suddenly descended over her. She felt it deep in her bones, and spreading out through her veins. One of her eyes felt strangely hot and sticky, with something warm trickling from the corner. She wiped at it with a fingertip, feeling a dampness as she brought the digit away. She looked down to see the skin smeared with red. She glanced around to see if anyone had noticed, quickly wiping her fingers against the rough fabric of her dress.

A/N: I know this chapter is quite a long time coming, but between writing the last one, I had a very demanding Christmas job, where I ended up having to work up to 14 hour days. I also got sick and went on holiday, so motivation was not a thing in my life. When I get back from holiday later this week, I will be working full time until I go back to university in March, so while I will still be writing during this period, it may take me a bit longer to get chapters out, just an advanced warning.

I hope everyone had a nice Christmas/whatever holiday you celebrate and a happy new year. Don't forget to leave a review. Byeeeee.