Chapter Twenty Nine: Shallow Words and Twisted Clues

…..

Oh well I don't mind, if you don't mind

'Cause I don't shine if you don't shine

Before you go

Tell me what you find

Can you read my mind?

~Read My Mind, The Killers

….

I love this (see above) band... They're awesome.

A cloud of purple smoke engulfed Emma and Morgan, and when it faded away Emma blinked to find they were in an entirely new place, and Morgan had had the forethought to magically dry their clothes and hair in translation. Emma looked down at rotten boardwalk wood they were standing on, black and green and slimy, a frown already creasing her face when the smell of fish assaulted her nose and the raucous calls of gulls attacked her ears. "Wait," she said, turning to Morgan. "I know this place."

"You do?" Morgan asked, ignoring the startled and frightened stares of a few people who had seen them poof into existence.

"Yes!" Emma exclaimed, recognizing it finally. "This was where I finally found Killian! Before…" her voice trailed off and she tried desperately to cling to the hope that her pirate was trying to protect her when he did and said what he did.

It was very difficult.

"I just brought us to the nearest mass of land. Teleporting consumes a lot of magic you know. Makes me hungry," Morgan shrugged. They were on dock packed with kiosks and she grabbed an apple from a fruit stand, taking a large mouthful. She fished out a gold coin from her breeches and tossed it to the merchant. He was stock still, probably from fear of her sorcery and having witnessed it, and so the coin just ended up hitting him in the face before it fell to the ground. Emma shook her head slightly and started walking, warily surveying the dock. Morgan did the same.

"This is actually a good start," Emma mused. "This is the only place we know he was."

"Very astute Watson," Morgan nodded after swallowing her bite of apple and giving the rest to a goat that was trotting around, Emma rolling her eyes. I should have never made that reference. "Did you see him come out of any establishments where we could question people? A bar, inn, nautical-supply store, brothel…" Emma shot Morgan a reproachful glare and she held up her palms plaintively. "For his men!"

"Actually," Emma thought aloud, "he did come out of a tavern before I made contact. I think it was...that one, over there." She pointed to a decrepit tavern just as unappealing as the rest of the village. The duo strode off purposefully towards it, and the fearful villagers parted like the Red Sea. Before they entered the tavern, Emma grabbed Morgan's arm. "Okay, try not to arouse any suspicions or be too conspicuous. We've scared enough people already."

Morgan nodded with a smile but shoved open the tavern door with a dramatic flourish and Emma dragged her hand down her face in exasperation. She elbowed Morgan as she shoved in front of her and kept her head low as they made their way to the bar. Clearly her friend either didn't understand the warning that was Emma's elbow or didn't care because by contrast she held her head high and sauntered to sit next to Emma with more than a few stray glances following her. "Do you know the meaning of inconspicuous?" Emma hissed as she held up her finger for service. Morgan canted her head and smiled sympathetically at Emma as she carelessly waved her hand in the air.

"Oh, we've nothing to fear. We're doing nothing wrong, and if they decide to start trouble I'll put their heads on pikes."

Emma raised her eyebrows and Morgan sighed.

"Fine, I'll put their heads in bars."

Emma shrugged. That's the best I'm 'gonna get. The bartender finally made her way over to them. She had bright red hair and a heavily freckled face, and gave them a tightlipped smile. "What'll it be?" she asked.

"Gin?" Emma asked, and the bartender nodded, then looking at Morgan.

"Uh, do you have any apple cider?" she asked, and the woman scoffed before turning around. Morgan looked briefly taken aback before muttering something about alcohol being "a disgusting poison that smells like urine" and how "tavern service has declined greatly since Camelot ruled." Emma just waited for her liquor, and was grateful there weren't any other customers at the bar, so they could talk to the bartender uninterrupted. As the woman poured her a shot, she gulped it down and leaned forward over the counter.

"Any pirates come through here recently?" she asked, not bothering to hide her earnesty. The bartender quirked an eyebrow, but answered her question.

"Ugh, all the time. Think they're charming, they do. Granted, some are moreso than others, if you know what I mean." she plopped her elbows on the counter as she spoke to Morgan and Emma and gave a wink. Emma fought wrinkling her nose in disgust at the thought of Killian being "charming", but she consoled herself with the belief he could never do better than her.

"Anyone come to mind from the past couple of days?" Morgan asked. The bartender gave a wicked smile that widely displayed slightly crooked teeth.

"Ah, yes. Two in particular. An older man and a younger one who looked a lot like him, they were related probably."

Emma leaned forward more, perking up. That could be Killian and his dad. Morgan must've noticed her change in attitude, prompting the woman to continue. She did, almost wistfully.

"The older one was most certainly attractive, but the other one…" she sighed and bit her lower lip as if imagining Killian's, and Emma kicked the counter loudly to put the woman's focus back on telling the duo about the men. "Well he only had one hand," she told them matter-of-factly, "and it was in the shape of a hook! Thought he might be Captain Hook, but then everyone saw the rings…" she trailed off, and something akin to fear sparked on her eyes.

"A golden skull, with rubies for eyes?" Emma asked, and the bartender nodded.

"Now, that, that's the telltale sign of a crew member of the Flying Dutchman." She whispered the name as if it were a token of bad fortune, and Morgan and Emma exchanged a look.

"What's so bad about them?" Morgan asked, and the bartender laughed.

"Why, it's a crew of the damned! They're cursed. Live for centuries, but something is taken from them. The stories never say exactly what. They become half-dead. And there's no turning back." Incredible concern burgeoned in Emma, and she looked frantically over to Morgan, who made a calming motion with her hand.

"Who is the captain of this crew?" Morgan asked.

"Oh, Davy Jones!" the woman exclaimed, and Emma put her palm to her head as she suddenly remembered seeing "Pirates of the Caribbean" a long time ago. Of. Course.

"Do you know why the crew was here?" she asked.

"Ale. Companionship. Supplies. Even half-dead pirates apparently need to eat."

"And do you know where they were headed?" Morgan asked, and the bartender scoffed again.

"Of course not! Nobody ever knows! A pirate's cardinal rule is secrecy, and these are the best." She turned away from the bar, and Emma figured they wouldn't be getting anymore out of her.

She turned to Morgan and muttered, "Let's go," shoving her way out of the tavern. When they were back to traipsing aimlessly through the soggy village.

"What's wrong?" Morgan asked, and Emma whirled around at her.

"We didn't get anything from that!" she yelled frustratedly.

"We got information!" Morgan countered. "We now know Killian's father is alive, and Killian has joined his crew. What we need to find out now is why, and how to get him out of it."

"We need Killian for that!"

"Not necessarily," Morgan said with a sly smile. "What we need is his crew!"

"He's with them," Emma said drily, not catching on to Morgan's enthusiasm until her brain clicked and a smile flooded her face. "You mean his original crew! We need to find them and they can tell us what the hell is going on!"

"Exactly! We go straight to Killian and there'll just be a repeat of last time, or a failed rescue attempt! We need an understanding, a plan, so we need the crew he apparently abandoned!"

Emma held up her hand for a high-five, but Morgan only stared at it in confusion. "Slap my hand with yours! In celebration!" Morgan caught on and hit her hand with hers, very hard. But it was not hard enough to quell the duo's excitement. Emma's next thought did that.

"Do you know how to find the crew?"

Morgan's face fell at the question. "Er...not really."

Their excitement turned to melancholy and they hung their heads, until Emma had an idea and nudged Morgan. "What about a certain dealmaker?"

Morgan's smile reappeared as she caught on, and they said the name in unison.

"Rumpelstiltskin!"

Killian stood by the railing of his ship, staring out to sea. Sadness and remorse rested on his shoulders like the weight of the world, and all he wanted was to see those green eyes, touch that silky hair, kiss those lips… But I can't. Not until this is over. He despondently kicked the wood of the ship as someone approached him and a calloused hand rested on his shoulder. "How are you, boy?"

He forced a smile as he turned back to his captain and answered. "Wonderful, father."

"Glad to hear it," he said, though his tone suggested otherwise and he leaned forward threateningly to whisper in Killian's ear. "Because we both know the only thing that would make you feel otherwise, don't we?"

Killian gulped and nodded with his teeth clenched, and his father pulled away, patting his shoulder with a satirical smile. "That's a good lad," he said before whirling around and heading below deck. Killian turned back to the water, looking out at the sunset with heavy eyes.

"Oh Emma," he whispered. "Please don't come looking for me."

So long to update, so short chapters! I know, I know, but the pace is picking up and things are getting done! I hope you stick around for the next installment and enjoyed this one!