Disclaimer: I don't own any POTC Characters, only my OCs.
Thanks for all the reviews and I hope you enjoy this one too! And by the way, just so you know, Joey gets a new outfit-something sexier!
For the first time since we got here, since we became trapped in this sinister web between time and space, I began to weigh the most probable outcome.
What would it be like to live out here?
No cars-only stinking ships. No McDonalds-only chicken legs that wasn't even chicken. No crazy, rock concerts-just stupid jigs on little fiddles that made you want to jump around without any form of self-control.
At least I had enough sense to get stuck in a century full of beer.
Directly opposite me, leaning back on the gold-rimmed chair, Jared draped his large hand over his pink-tinged face.
"They've been at it for hours!" he groaned tiredly, his voice muffled and choked behind his hand. In the last pink and amber rays of the fading day, his hair was like matted hay; gold spikes stuck out of his head, ruffled and messy from plain exhaustion. Shifting shadows danced across his face, like dark nymphs with their trailing black gowns. His long, footballer legs stretched out between us. At his side, Scarlett scrubbed at her half-closed eyes.
"6 hours to be exact," I yawned in reply, my aching arms reflexively stretching out sore muscles, "Not that I have a watch or anything." Beneath me, my sore, cramping legs curled under my butt like a safety net, the edges of the metal boots cutting into my flesh in vengeance-they drew up to my black-clad knees and though it would have pleasured my aching toes and legs much, it was all too tedious to remove. Metal toes hung over the red velvet chair as I pulled in even farther, my arms returning back to cuddle between my knees and chest. In the background, voices drone on in cryptic words.
It's a new outfit, in case you were wondering; during the past 6 hours we had been here, waiting for these goddamn pirates to make up their minds, Scarlett had showed me something in her room. It was an outfit, a feminine yet tomboyish outfit designed for easy maneuver and simple attractiveness. A combination of vanity and convenience. A cross between a female Indiana Jones and…well…Sparrow. It was pretty good actually:
"Where the hell did this come from?" I had bellowed at the petite redhead as she tossed me the clothes, spins of yellow and black flying towards me, "Did you mug someone?"
"Of course not!" Scarlett had cried in reply, crossing her arms fiercely across her small waist as she glared those pretty eyes of hers at me, "I made them for you." In the streaming shadow of her room, her red hair had shone with a brilliant crimson-like blood. Unlike our room next door, her bed was neat as a pin.
"What? Made them?!"
"Yes. What did you think I had been doing this past few days, stuck on this pathetic ship? Lestrade offered me some old drapes-"
"You made my clothes out of curtains?!"
"Oh, just shut up and wear it."
Sitting now, curled up in my chair in the shadow of the passing day, a little tinge of gratitude poked into my side; they were good. Very good. Unlike those skirted overalls that Will had given me, the one that belonged to that Elizabeth woman, Scarlett's design was actually pretty cool: my sun-licked shoulders were completely bare against the soft red. Instead, long, old yellow sleeves began their descent at my mid arm, parallel to my cleavage-the yellow cloth widened as it climbed down, ending at the wrists in thick puffy clouds of dirty parchment. The rest of my torso was clad in the same material, the loose yellow cloth shaping out my curves as smoothly as it could. A wide yellow tongue hanged down from the cloth, to just below my hips. The top wasn't finish though- a thick brown leather corset hugged around my torso, tight and stern yet flexible too. It was laced at both sides, thin dirty brown strings marching up in a pattern of criss-crosses as they ended just below my bosom. Up onwards, just above the tight bodice and the gap of yellow between, my heaving breasts curved out of the soft dirty cloth in a way I never thought they could; for a moment, despite all of Scarlett's protests at my slight changes, I actually looked sexy.
Sexy enough to get a single scowl of disapproval from my brother in reply.
"Can you hear what they are saying?" Scarlett murmured from her post beside Jared, a hand cupping over her mouth as she yawned discreetly. Spheres of sparkling green peered out of the growing darkness in groggy slits- one of Barbossa's men, a ratty-looking fellow, walked around with a lighted flint, making the lanterns of use again. Soft fires began to glow at the dark corners of the room, bringing life back into the black study. Burning oil tinged my nose with a slight tickle. At the other side of the room, the window revealed the setting sun. With a tired yawn yet again, I shook my head.
"No, Red-head," I sighed, closing my eyes momentarily as I knocked my shaking head against the red velvet, in search of comfort, "I gave up listening to them at the first hour."
"As had I," Jared slide his hand over his face and up into his hair, pulling his reddened features. Tired, lethargic fingers raked their way through the golden, messy hay. Beside him, Scarlett stretched out her black-clad legs. Light was fading from the world-fast.
"Yeah," I spoke through another yawn, eyes still close as I sunk deeper into the soft red, "And I don't care. Let them talk-we are all going to die anyway." Jared snorted in reply.
As I sat there, curled up in the fading day, my mind began to fall back into the dark. I wanted to sleep again, to go back into that slumber of which the three of us had fallen into during the last two hours. I wanted to nap all over again. To rest, to close my eyes to the black and white reality that swarmed around me like spiraling, relentless hurricane. I wanted to forget.
Maybe when I wake up, this would have been all a bad dream.
Yet, when I opened my eyes, nothing had changed; I was still here, napping away in quiet study of the Black Pearl. Muffled, arguing voices still hummed away in the glowing dark and before me, Jared and Scarlett still rested in their armchairs, fingers playing with one another in the empty space between them. Boots still shuffled as lamps continued to be lit, the amber ball of the sun still sinking its way back into the gold-streaked sea.
I was still here.
Still trapped.
"Soooo," I dragged out the word as I lazily glanced over at Scarlett, my heavy eyelids begging to drop back down, "You're father's looking for you." It was statement, not a question. After all, it only made sense-I had only met him once but a man such as Lord Errol, a man who throws an innocent girl into prison for her pants, seemed like the kind of guy who would do anything when his interests were at stake.
Like, I don't know, send an entire armada after his kidnapped daughter.
Well, after the ship that supposedly kidnapped her anyway- Betty
Beside Jared, Scarlett turned her awakening green eyes towards me, biting anxiously on her lower lip. At the side of my head, my dark blonde curls had spread about the velvet red in flowing streams of brilliant gold. The sun's last rays felt oddly cold against my skin. At the corner of the room, beside the door, a little, gray cat with deep brown eyes watched us with intelligent eyes.
"Yes," Scarlett nodded slowly, eyes slowly growing wide, "I suppose he is."
"Congrats then."
"Thank you," was her only reply as her jade eyes dropped down to her lap, her voice curt. Unlike Jared and I, who had made ourselves more then comfortable on the gold-trimmed chairs over the last few hours, Scarlett had kept a sense of dignity-her booted feet never left the ground, staying in a complete, polite rigor the entire time. Her back pulled upright as she slowly shook away sleep, her red hair flowing down her long back like the tossing red mane of a gentle horse. Sleep had puffed up her eyes, by just a little. Beside her, Jared turned a bored head behind him, to check on the squabbling pirates.
"Thank you?" I raised a lazy eyebrow at her comment, head still pressed against the soft red, "That's all you can say? Shouldn't you be jumping around for joy? I mean, you are being saved."
"O-of course! I…. I am glad…"
"Well, you could have fooled me," I retorted in the midst of another yawn, frowning slightly over at the petite redhead, "If I were you, I would be ecstatic! Someone pulling me out of this bad-dream…Hell, do you think your father would rescue us too?"
Scarlett just looked up at me in reply, green eyes flashing away any remnants of sleep. Pink cheeks, tinged even more in the setting sun's glow, bloomed beneath her olive eyes like poppies below green stalks. Her red hair seemed to have a life of its own. In between my brother and her, in the loose space between their chairs, pale fingers still played with tanned ones-they dangled over the armrests into each other's grip, long fingers and sharp nails cloying together like dancing reeds in the wind. The ratty-man with the lighted flint approached the table in the middle of the little group with heavy steps, geared up to bring some light into the dark lantern on it. Hush voices still buzzed in the darkening background.
For a second, Scarlett blinked her eyes, like a lovely, china doll. Then, with gleaming white teeth, she spoke in a soft voice.
"It's not all that bad, Joanna," her voice was like a melodious tune in the warm air, "This…this adventure of ours…there has been some good." Light bloomed at our table.
"Oh, yeah? Like what?"
In response, Scarlett did an almost discernible thing; with a quick snap of her bright eyes, she clamped her hand over Jared's and squeezed a little. Just a little. Pretty white nails tightened over raw, bitten ones, pale over the rough bronze-I was beginning to think that Scarlett never burned in the sun. Either that, or she just never went out. Beside her, Jared showed no response; his golden head was still facing around, eyes intent on the only other conversation in the room. The ratty man with the flint shuffled away.
"What's that suppose to mean?" I helplessly raised an eyebrow at Scarlett again, slowly straightening my back as I leaned even farther into the soft red.. A lazy whine, almost inaudible, purred beneath my dry throat. In the background, a familiar apian scream chilled the cooling air followed by a loud smack. At the window, at the end of the room, the sun gave its last, meager gleam as darkness swirled above it, threatening night. Jared's head was still turned.
"You know what it means."
"Look, if you are talking about this oh-so-perfect thing you and my brother are playing at, then you might as well come out and say it. Everyone al-"
"That's it!" Jared suddenly snapped, his head swiveling around in a quick interruption, "I'm sick of waiting!" It was as if a zap of energy had struck him hard in the face, his once-sleepy blue eyes jarred open in a sudden fire. Muscles pulled out from their lazy stir. At his left eye, a faded old blemish poked out of the shadows. Without another word and with a flash of his angry blue eyes, he pulled back his fingers and made to stand up from his red chair; in a quick pull of my muscles, I unfurled a single leg and kicked him hard in the shin. Metal met hard muscles as my brother went back down, his face screwing up in obvious pain. A loud thud rang through the cooling air.
"What the-JOEY!"
"Oh, shut up, cowboy," I stifled yet another yawn as I slowly uncurled my other leg, stretching my arms upwards in preparation, "This mission doesn't need brawn; it needs brain. You obviously lack that." Before my brother could snap something in reply, his hands clutching his sore shin, I was already on my feet; lazy, lethargic bones creaked like old wood as metal boots planted firmly down on black wooden boards, my entire body groaning in protest. My head felt like a thick iron casket upon my neck. Beneath the blowy yellow sleeve, the bloodstained bandage around my knuckles begged to be scratched.
In front of me, in his velvet chair, Jared made to rise again, eyes flashing in defiance. The final pink rays seemed to shade his entire face in an angry and pained cherry. As he made forward, his lips set to snap again, Scarlett reached forward and grabbed his hand back.
Ew.
Without even bothering over the two of them for another second, I brushed past my frozen-still twin and onward towards the treacherous waters.
Standing around a circular table at a black corner of the room, heads bent together in fierce concentration was my three most favorite people in the world: Sparrow, Barbossa and Will talked in quiet voices, their figures black against a single frail light upon the table. Wavering gold flickered across their features, outlining their oh-so-different silhouettes in limes of shimmering warm-a hook nose there, a perfect face nearby and an evil, familiar grin here. It was as if I was staring at an old impressionist painting; they barely moved as they talked, a picture of pirates conversing, discussing, working together before a shivering lantern's glow. Two large hats bent towards the middle, the other head adorned only by a simple bandana. Pink-tinged black surrounded their little gold canopy, three unwavering figures gathered around a small table in vivid discussion-they looked like ghosts, ghosts of old in a secret meeting.
For a second or so, I wanted to paint them.
As I moved closer, boots thudding against the black wood, I slowly picked up on their conversation.
"Look, dis is my map. I get to decide-"
"Technically, Jack, it was I who stole that map in the map in the first place. To save you, in fact, you good-for-nothing pirate!"
"Ah, a plate calling a cup black."
"You're an idiot. It's a kettle-"
"Look, gentlemen, I don't think arguin' over something like dis is goin' to solve anything. We still have to figure dis one out."
"I already told you, Barbossa. It doesn't make any sense. None of it does."
"Aye, but it has to. It's on de map and good ol' Calypso wouldn't put anything on it unless-"
"Unless she's just pullin' one on us. It wouldn't be the first time, after all."
"Aye, but not on here, eh savvy? Not on dis map. That sentence…there's probably a secret mess'age-"
"I still can't believe that you haven't even cracked it yet. All this time with the map-what exactly was your plan, huh Jack? Attack the Pearl with a two-manned ship and pray for a miracle? Was that it?"
"Actually, that sounds about right."
"Perhaps we're looking at this all wrong, lads. Turner, go and fetchin' dat Ragetti and tell him-"
"I'm not one of your men, Barbossa. I don't take anyone's orders."
"For the love of the King, boy! Just go on up there-"
"I'm not a boy, Barbossa. "
"Perhaps we're reading this the wrong way, eh, savvy? Perhaps we are meant to tilt it-"
"What the hell are you three idiots arguing about now?" I interrupted with a low sigh, breaking through the circle in slow but steady steps. In front of me, around the circle table, all three heads snapped up; Will and Sparrow swiveled their heads around, glaring down at me with outright surprise. Flickering, warm light danced across their shock-stricken features, the shadows of the beginning night hiding them beneath their folds. At the other end of the table, directly opposite me, Barbossa looked up from the wood with an equally expressed face, the gold light cascading across his silver-brown beard like licking smooth streams. Shadows stuck out of his gold skin like small, black shallows. At his shoulder, little Jack munched away at a peanut.
They obviously had forgotten my very existence.
"Joey," Will was the first to speak, his bright brown eyes shaded in the growing shadows, "You've changed." His dark brown curls shivered at his broad shoulders, to a breeze that wasn't even there. A knot of hard muscle jumped at his firm jaw. Beside him, Sparrow was running his eyes all over my body with a disgusting, ugly leer, the shock of my interruption having been wiped off his face in a blink of an eye. Barbossa watched in silence.
"Well, yes," I nodded slowly, my arms suddenly becoming heavy at my side as Sparrow continued his roving all over me, "Scarlett made them for me." It seemed the strangest thing to say, at that moment, but somehow, I said it anyway. Will had asked, after all.
Which reminds me-why the hell was I talking so sweetly to him for?
Beside Will, Sparrow's leer only got wider as his eyes continued their little back-packing trip all over my body; okay, so yes. This outfit was a little revealing. As in 'bare shoulders and obvious cleavage' revealing. Not forgetting, of course, a tight black pants that might as well be my second skin; truthfully, I was still surprised Scarlett actually even designed this for me. I mean, shouldn't she have wanted me to wear something more….proper? Being Scarlett and all?
I swear I will never understand people, not for as long as I live.
For a few moments, no one said a word. Somewhere, far behind, Jared and Scarlett talked in low voices, soft buzzes in the warm air. Lanterns continued to lit around the room.
Finally, Barbossa broke the silence, an old, weathered smile cracking across his bronzed face.
"Aye, lass," he grinned in his peculiar way, his yellow cat eyes glowing a bright gold in the flickering candlelight, "Yer looking more and more like a pirate now." Jack gnawed noisily at his shoulder. With a slight hump and quick draw of my arms to my chest, I snorted in reply.
"Call me pirate one my time and I will kick your ass, no matter who you are. And you," I shifted my glare towards the grinning Sparrow, completely ignoring Will with a flick of my loose, curling hair, "Stop looking at me as if I'm meat or I swear, I'll hit you again." Sparrow just grinned in reply. The blood that had coated his teeth 6 hours ago was now long gone; sparkling, gold-capped teeth shone back at me with malicious intent. Dark black seemed to fine me quite amusing. In those rows of crooked, yellow teeth, only one had not been accounted for; a gaping black hole screamed from his lower line of teeth, right at the side of his mouth.
An evidence of my venting anger.
"Well, yer are dressed like one," Barbossa retorted in reply, the grin like a yellow snake across his wrinkled face, "Yer look mighty fine though, lass." The light made him look like an olden-timed ghost, right out of the Christmas Carol. Beside me, Will just stared, voiceless to the world. I decided to ignore him.
"Well, thanks," I nodded my head curtly, drawing my gaze away from the still-leering Sparrow and towards the older man, "I think. Anyway…"
Still ignoring the quiet, impassive Will and the leering form of Sparrow, I edged between the two and turned towards the table before me.
Sitting upon the wooden, rickety table, under the flickering black lantern was a large circle of thick leather. Its edges were jagged and raw, crude cutting leaving the firm hard skin ruined at its fringes. The center of it was fine though; the circle was decorated in fading colours, ink black words written all over its colourful design. It was a piece of art, really. Overlapping circles rounded up to the middle, delicate paintings of ships and licking flames embellishing the narrow strips between the lines. Chinese black calligraphy trailed along the weathered leather, like wisps of smoke dancing into words of a foreign language. In the middle of the circle, in the middle of all the colours and words, was a delicately painted ship, white sails and all. An exact replica reflected in the painted blue of water.
Sweet.
Vintage.
"Cool. Is this it?" I voiced helplessly, eyes studying ever detail of the map. It was pretty cool, actually, for something drawn on an animal's hide. The black lantern almost covered the white-sailed ship, its flickering white glow spreading out on the thick leather in banks of gleam. On either side of me, the pirates kept their silence; Sparrow's grin still winked at the corner of my left eye and Will was nothing more then a shadow. Opposite me, Barbossa cocked a snaky eyebrow.
"Is this what lass?"
"The treasure map," I looked up at him with glowing eyes, the sleep slowly washing away from my mind, "The one that you were all talking about? The one that leads to the Fountain of Youth?" Barbossa nodded his head and began to speak when Sparrow cut him off, leaning closer towards me.
"Aye, lass," his breath reeked of stale rum as he watched me with glinting eyes, "Which brings to de question-why on earth did yer tell bout de fountain to dem, eh, luv?"
"Right. Because you've been so generous to me this whole entire time that I had no reason whatsoever to go against you in any-"
"Alright, alright," Will finally spoke, stepping out of the shadows in a single move, "That's enough squabbling. We have business to attend to, so unless you want to complain about something, Joey, leave us." His voice was cold and hard as he stared down at me, his dark eyes blank and dull-like life had been striped out of him. His coarse tanned skin seemed to pull even more tightly to his skull. A chill poked against my back.
He thinks I'm a child, the voice whispered in my head again, prodding against my skull in sharp, relentless jabs, He thinks I'm too immature. For a second, the very thought seemed to threaten tears in my sore eyes. Fist clenched in on themselves as I softly rapped against the wooden table. Something stabbed into my heart. With a sharp, vicious snap, I glared as fiercely as I could up at the undead Captain, despite the pangs in my chest.
"I'm not a child you can boss around, Will," I spite out his name in vehemence, as if it were poison, "I can do whatever I want. And sitting around, waiting for you three morons to decided on something for 6 hours isn't exactly something I was practically dying to do."
Beside me, Will opened his mouth again but once more, Barbossa pulled us all out of our own little problems.
"Now, dat's enough!" he snapped, spitting out thick rolls of yellow saliva, "Dat's enough out of the three of yer. We've got a treasure to find, and yer lot are wastin' me time-now, lass, if yer going to stay here and create problems among us all, then yer might as well help!" At his shoulder, Jack screamed in agreement.
For a minute or two, Will and I continued our glaring campaign at one another. Silence eluded us at every corner and the shifting, darkened world seemed invisible to us. After a few long minutes, I finally pulled my glare away from him, chest dropping in a heavy sigh.
"Fine," I nodded at Barbossa, at the gleaming golden man directly opposite me, "Show me."
Barbossa said nothing-instead, he reached out a single, gnarled finger and pointed it down onto the hardened leather. Crooked, blue-black fingernails poked into the leather, its edge twisted and worn with age. With another sigh, I followed his disgusting finger-sitting at the end of the twisted nail, in a narrow strip between circles were black words, written in a delicate and beautiful hand. As I stared down at the leather, ignoring the two idiots beside me, the word slowly formed into a definite shape:
The Fountain of Youth
"Neat," I answered, looking up at the old man as my back leaned helplessly over the wooden table, "Is that all?" The golden light from the shivering candle seemed to wash onto me too. Just beside Sparrow, the window revealing the world was ink black, white-capped waves glowing in the crescent moon's light. Stars littered the dark canopy. Sparrow was silent before it. Beside me, Will's ever-watchful gaze was all to sharp against the nape of my bent neck.
"Nah, lass," Barbossa shook a golden washed face, the rim of his black, flat hat blinking in shivering gold, "De map tells many things. Dis is just one thing it tells, apparently; lookin' down here. See what it reads." In the silenced, thick air, the Captain of the Black Pearl lifted his finger from the map and weighing it just above the coloured skin, he pointed downwards, towards me.
Without another word, I followed his finger; sitting in the same narrow strip between circles as the earlier words, was a sentence, inked in black. It was long, much longer then the one above it-it stretched at least half a circle, wide spaces between the words. As before, the letters were beautifully written, the ink sunk into the leather in gentle, flicking curves. Faded fire licked over the words, sashaying above the strange sentence in a vibrant, dancing orange:
Catch It Raw, Catch Eve.
It was the strangest sentence I had ever seen. Truthfully. It didn't even make sense. I mean, Catch it raw, catch Eve?! What the hell was I suppose to catch raw?! And Eve…who the hell was Eve?!?!
As I leaned down on the table, the three pirates started to argue again, their voices like fog in a strange dream. Sparrow leaned down beside me, his quirky, witty voice voicing something sarcastic and cynical to Will. Barbossa's voice was like an out-of-tune tuba above my head. Will's was, as usual, strong and smooth, like a soft wind against one's cheeks. Words like Bible and Bloody Idiot flashed across the small circular table.
What did it mean?
My mind churned, the gears grinding against one another as I burned the cursive words into my head:
Catch it raw, catch eve.
Catch it raw, catch eve.
Catch it raw, catch eve.
Catch It Raw, Catch Eve.
Catch It Raw, Catch Eve.
And then, it hit me, like a slap to my face
Morons.
With a quick snap of my head, I focused my eyes onto the arguing Barbossa. Excitement seemed to escalate within me, like the climax of a Concerto. My heart began to race.
"Fetch me a paper and pen1"
"What, lass?"
"Paper and pen!!"
Confused silence filled the thick, warm air. Beside me, Will and Sparrow had stopped arguing, their eyes returning their gaze on me. My nails bit into my palms in painful, sharp jabs of electricity. I had something. I had something!
"Pen?" Barbossa raised his brown-silver eyebrow in obvious confusion.
"Ink! Ink!"
Silence eluded again.
Unlike the other two, Sparrow caught on quickly.
"Boy!" He yelled at the ratty-looking man with the lighted flint at the end of the room, making his way out of the polished black door, "Yer heard her. Get her some parchment and ink!" His voice was loud, bouncing off the walls in a rapid wave of alcohol-stench. My mind was beginning to whirl in my head, excitement seizing me in its hand. I knew this. I know this!
"What's happening?" Will simply asked beside me, his question directed at no one in particular. I didn't care for him. Not right now; instead, I stared down at those words, the clues that led us forward. I knew this. I knew this so well. It was so simple. The whole thing, the sentence, had been nothing more then a puzzle; it was like the map itself, with the spinning circles and changing words. A puzzle. A riddle.
Nothing more.
It seemed like hours before a yellow curled-up parchment was shoved into my hands, along with a large, black-and-white feather with a sharp edge. A bottle of Indian black ink was slammed down onto the table beside my hand, its bottle cap unscrewed. In my hand, the large feather reminded me of the headpieces the Native Americans wore upon their heads, the ones that we saw at that National Heritage Museum two years ago. Dried, black ink scraped along my skin as I rubbed the tip between my thumb and forefinger, eyes wide.
Seriously?!
"Joey?
Without another word, I slammed the hard parchment down onto the shaky wooden table and with a single hand, quickly unrolled it above the map. Coarse brushed against my blood-soaked bandage as I flattened it back, energy jumping in my chest. I could barely control it. Barely. Fingers flew as I tightened my hold of the large feather in my hand and, with passionate speed, dipped the sharp tip into the small black bottle. Drops of black flew onto the hard yellow as I rushed the feather to the top of the page, thin black-and-white hair bobbing up and down with my hand. A coarse, out-of-place strand tickled at my nose.
But I didn't care.
As Will spoke again, in a far-away voice, I scanned the black cursive words above the parchment, the ones etched into the leather. It was so simple.
So simple.
"Joey," Will's voice whispered in my ear as I met the black ink with the parchment, pressing the sharp edge down onto the yellow, "What are you doing?" On my other side, Sparrow's gaze watched me from up above-for some reason, I couldn't help but imagine him with an odd but oh-so-Captain Sparrow smirk on his face, gazing down at me. Opposite me, Jack screamed.
So simple.
"If you guys came to me earlier," I hissed impatiently as I scraped down the quill against the hard paper, my mind chugging as I stared at the black, cursive words above, "If you hadn't been such chauvinistic freaks, we wouldn't have wasted an entire afternoon and evening at all. You bloody idiots."
Hell, I was beginning to speak like them.
My brain flashed between paper and leather as I continue to write, energy bouncing within me like a trapped animal. My fingers squeezed harder around the quill, black ink slowly making out fine words. I knew this. I know this.
So simple.
"What…what do you mean? You know what the sentence means?"
"Yes."
"What?"
"Nothing," I declared as my eyes widened in excitement, my heart racing beneath my skin as I finished the last letter, "It means nothing."
"Wh…I don't understand."
"Don't you see?" I nodded my head down at the words as I slowly straightened my back, my eyes flashing between the coloured leather and my own newly written words, "The clue wasn't the sentence, Will. It was in the sentence. The clue's right there, all along." Black flashed out against dirty yellow. Within me, beneath my very skin, every thing seemed to jump up in excitement.
So simple.
"What?"
"Look," I said and pulled back from my work, ink-dripping-quill still in my hand. All around me, the pirates bent their heads forward, eyes focused on my words. The parchment sat just below the black cursive words of the map, my own letters flashing black in large capital blocks. Dots of ink littered the smooth paper. At the fringe of the parchment, a single, black word screamed out:
CIRCE.
Silence engulfed us yet again as all eyes stared down onto those letters, all attention focused into that single word. Circe. What the hell did that mean? As I stared down at my handiwork, a small measure of pride poked at my side. I solved it. I solved the goddamn puzzle.
Bloody pirates.
"How the hell did yer get to dat?" Barbossa broke through the still silence, looking up from the map with gleaming, confused cat eyes. Beside me, Sparrow leaned back a little, expertly folding his hands across his chest. Will was still silent.
"It's easy," I answered simply, staring at the old pirate with a slight cock to my eyebrow, "It's the phonetic code."
"De what?"
"The phonetic code-it's the easiest code in the world. In my world, anyway. It's…its just taking the first letter of the each word in the sentence. Can't you see? 'Catch It Raw, Catch Eve…..C…I…R…C…E….Circe." I, of course, pronounced it as 'Cirske'-it was the most reasonable way to pronounce the strange word anyway. After all, I had never seen it before, not ever. It was the oddest word I had ever come upon. Yet, somehow, Sparrow knew it perfectly well-as Barbossa opened his mouth to shoot another question towards me, eyes flashing and monkey gnawing, Sparrow's voice rumbled by in a whisper.
"Sir-see."
"What?" I snapped my head away from the light, turning around to look at the man with wide eyes, "What did you say?" Beside me, in the shadow of the new night, Sparrow seemed to have melted away; in those few minutes I had since last paid any attention to him, a sudden emotion had engulfed him. It glazed over his eyes in a blank, far-away stare, a strange white fire dancing in his dark eyes. His face had gone completely still, completely blank of any emotions. Dried blood still clotted in his beard-the lantern's light partially washed over his still, thinking form and not for the first time, I saw that he was handsome.
It was as if something had taken him away from this world, leaving his body but a cold, empty shell.
Something jumped in my chest.
"Sir-see," he said again, slowly pulling himself back into the world again, the fire fading away into those dark pools, "Dat name. On yer paper. It's said as Sir-see." Beside me, Will shuffled softly.
"Sir-see…" he repeated Sparrow cautiously, rolling the sound of the word over his tongue as he leaned back slowly, "She…."
"She's the one?" Barbossa voiced out in his harsh, rumbling tone, "She's the way to de Fountain?!" At his shoulder, little Jack had gone oddly quiet.
What the hell were they talking about?
"Apparently so…" Will's voice trailed beside me, his voice as far away as Sparrow. Turning towards him, I saw that he too was thinking; his eyes were whirling with thoughts, his brows creasing together as he pondered at length. A dark brown curl shouldered out of place above his ear and I ached to reach forward and perfect it. Dark eyes stared down at my words without actually seeing, the gears grinding away in his brain. Black eyelashes fluttered slowly. Opposite him, Barbossa grumbled again.
"Well, that's just bloody nonsense! Circe? Of all things?"
"Well, its not that hard to believe, once you think about it," Sparrow had snapped out of his dream by now, his dark black eyes staring at his former first-mate with a slight shiver of humour, "After all, de Fountain is pretty much part of her specialty….Aye, savvy. It would only make sense."
"But of all people…." Will shook his head, curls shaking, "Circe isn't exactly-"
"Easy! She ain't exactly easy! Nome, sir….not easy! Bloody hell…when I signed off for dis expenditure, Mister Turner, I dint expect Circe!"
"Well, neither did I, Barbossa! So, quit complaining and lets just all focus on the this-"
"Dat is, of course, sayin' dat we can even talk to her. After all, dis is Circe we are all talking about. She's a hell worse then her mother, and yer know it."
"Well, what do you expect to do then, Jack? Forget about this whole thing? Let me tell you, I am not about to-"
"Wait!" I cut through the noise of the three men, waving the quill still tucked in my hand, "Wait. Who the hell is Circe?!"
It was as if, in those few long minutes after my answer to the riddle, the three morons had completely forgotten my existence. Even Will. Now, standing in the middle of them all, the three oh-so-different pirates looked over at me as if seeing me for the first time. Warm air circled around us like a tight, comforting circle. Somewhere, in the background, Scarlett and Jared exchanged a laugh, oblivious to the world around them. Brows furrowed and the monkey screamed, yet again. Shadows pressed down from all around.
Will's heat was like dire water to my skin.
"Well?!"
"Circe? Aye, lass, yer don't know? Why, she's Calypso's daughter."
End of Chapter 20
Sorry to leave it in a semi-cliff-hanger! As for this new name, I shall explain the history behind my choice of name in the next chapter. Furthermore, I would like to credit the design of Joey's new outfit to an image I saw from a website.
It is definitely not my own design.
Anyway, I would to dedicate this chapter to Hans Christian Andersen. I finished this chapter on the 205th anniversary of his birth and even though it doesn't really make any sense, I just wish to honour the guy in my own little way. I mean, c'mon, he gave us the Little Mermaid!
So yea...
Please review and look out for the next chapter! Thanks!
XOXO