The Cards
-Harry-
Keeping busy tuned out to be easy as Uma set them to work immediately. They widened the switch back trail that wound up the cliff and cleared a road to town. She arranged a meeting between Harry, Gil and the goblins that ran the barges. Soon after, they had boats of old construction materials being dumped on the rocky shore. Kids from all over the island flocked to the new port, desperate for a chance to carve a place for themselves on the cutthroat island. In a week, the rock cliffs surrounding the bay were crowned with a dozen wooden spires of ropes and pulleys. Boardwalks and small shacks were being drilled into the rock face and the excavation of a tunnel in the south wall to connect them to the town was under way. All along the small rocky beach, tall scaffolding was beginning to form the raised deck that would reach out over the water to the deck of the floating ship.
Harry had been so caught up in the rush of industry and construction that he had all but forgotten about his father and the race. He was walking along the boardwalks between construction sites when a letter was delivered to him by a thin greasy boy with missing front teeth. The boy waited expectantly after handing him the letter. Harry snapped his teeth at him and he scurried away with a squeak.
The letter was addressed to him in elegant curved letters. He recognized the handwriting instantly. It was from Harriet. He stuffed it into his jacket pocket and jogged back to the ship. He cracked the wax seal and opened the letter in the dim light of a lantern in the privacy of his and Gil's shared room. It was still early in the morning and the blonde still wasn't back from his morning run.
The first morning Harry had feigned sleep while his roommate dressed and slipped out of their room. He returned, sweaty and tired, from the woods much later.
"Got a little lost."
Gil had laughed when Uma questioned his absence. Every morning since, Gil rose before the sun and went for a run in the woods. He didn't get lost as much anymore and usually returned after an hour or two.
The letter was short and to the point. Much to his sister's style.
Harry,
Father is in a terrible mood. Something happened the night before the race and he has been of unusually short temper. I urge you to lay low and avoid him and the crew for as long as possible. I hope this is just another of his moods and passes soon, but he is senseless with anger and I fear what he may do.
Your sister, Harriet.
Hooks' terrible gaze flashed in Harry's mind. Harriet usually knew best and he didn't see any reason to not trust her now. In typical island tradition, Harry lit the corner of the paper in the flame of a candle on his small desk and held it out the open window. Harry watched the yellow flame crawl its way up the paper until the flame began to sting his hand. He dropped it and watched as the light flickered down and sizzled into the water below.
Avoiding his father was easy in the hustle and bustle of the cove's construction and running the ship. Harry had gotten used to life in their cove and he didn't see any reason to risk leaving. That is, until the day of the big announcement.
Uma spent her time between the chip shop and the ship, Harry's days were filled managing the coves continued construction, drilling the crew and performing the day to day captains duties. On that fateful day, the only news channel on the island echoed in cheerful voices the royal announcement that four villain kids had been selected to leave the isle and attend school in Auradon. The four lucky children were, of course, the children of the evil elite. Worst of all, they hadn't picked Uma. When she returned from the chip shop after the limo had passed through the barrier, carrying away her greatest nemesis to a life full of magic and opportunity, she seethed pure rage. The large ship was suddenly empty. Every pirate on the crew didn't dare risk crossing paths with their captain that evening. Harry was no different. Gil had left on an errand a few hours earlier so Harry had no choice but to slip out alone and wander into town like the rest of the crew.
Harry strolled through the dirty streets with no destination in mind. A distant clamour of voices drew his attention and he wandered towards it. He found himself walking towards the market and realized it must be market day, almost a whole month had gone by since they won the race. He was walking along one of the long streets leading up to the wide space when he saw a young girl with a miniature top hat pinned on top of a halo of frizzy dark red hair, leaning against the wall at the mouth of a small alley. They made eye contact and she pushed off the wall and jogged to meet him in the street.
"Hey Harry, long time since I've seen your face around here. Come sit at my table, why don't you?"
"And waste some of my precious coin?"
Harry scoffed and kept walking. She strode alongside him, taking long strides to compensate for the height difference.
"You got anything better to do?"
He stopped in his tracks. The little hustler raised an eyebrow at him. Harry had to admit he was missing the constant activity of the cove's construction. He could use a little entertainment, if not a little company.
Celia Facilier didn't wait for an answer. She had already turned on her heel and was heading back towards the little alley that housed her stall and table. Harry caught up with her easily.
"You've been busy lately."
"Lot's to be busy about."
"Here too."
Harry shot her a quizzical look.
"They've been looking for you."
Harry searched her face for any clue she was lying.
"What? Who?"
"Captain Hook's crew. They've been combing the streets asking if anyone has seen you. They say your dad wants a word. I don't know much about parenting but when my dad wants to talk he doesn't send a bunch of goons."
They turned into the alley, the few islanders in the small street scrambled to the sides at the sight of the duo. He and Uma had worked hard for a long time to get this reputation. It felt good. Harry held his chin a little higher and relaxed into the small chair across from an already seated Celia. He leaned back into the chair and kicked his feet up onto the cracked plastic card table. The young girl frowned at the undersides of his boots and pulled a deck of large purple cards, each with an elegant eye in the centre, from her colourful bag. Celia shuffled and chanted dramatically.
"The cards, the cards, the cards will tell; the past, the present, and the future as well!
The cards, the cards, just take three. Take a little trip into your future with me"
She fanned the deck out across the table with a flourish. Harry didn't move.
"What good will cards do me? There's no magic here."
Celia looked around dramatically before leaning across the table.
"The barrier can't stop it all, magic is everywhere. Has been for centuries, it flows through the very earth beneath us. Small miracles, little magics, they still happen. Haven't you ever seen something you can't explain? Something no one would believe if you told them?"
Green eyes flashed in his mind. He had been party to a miracle once or twice, what he had come to believe was a fevered dream. A stranger, curing a house full of sick in the dead of night. Harry pulled his feet off the table and chose three cards from the deck. Surprise flashed over Celia's face before her trademark smirk mask returned.
"The cards, the cards, let's look and see. Your past-"
She flipped the first card over on the table. An angel in a long white dress and a golden halo stood barefoot on a painted shore, pouring water from one golden chalice to another. Tall grey mountains stretched in the background behind her folded purple wings.
"Temperance reversed, you lacked balance, not so unusual around here. Uncertainty of what is to come while struggling with what is. You lacked grounding under so many conflicting extremes."
"Those are some big words, been reading the dictionary after lights out?"
Harry teased, Celia grinned and turned the next card over.
"Same old Harry. Now for your present, your soon to be."
Another woman, this one standing on a rocky cliff with a raging ocean behind her. Her golden hair was flung out around her in the apparent wind. Her hands were held up to the dark clouds overhead. Twin golden circles floated above her hands. Wind blown leaves and petals wound around the hovering coins in a simple endless loop.
"The two of pentacles, upright; rough waters ahead, Two sides of a coin. Good and bad."
She flipped the last card over.
"Future is always the hardest. What have we here? Oh my."
A man in a long red cloak stood looking out over a cerulean bay, two thin trees flanked his sides and reached their spindly branches towards the horizon.
"The two of wands, reversed, a difficult quest awaits and you will not be standing on the sidelines. Thrust out of your comfort zone, you must take action without planning."
A strange look swept over Celia's face, her eyelids fluttered and her hand swept back and forth above the overturned cards,
"The boy who grew up in the hard world of adults, suffered so much strife and yet still protects those around him. He above all should understand the duality of all things. There is no light without dark, no love without hate, good without evil. You will be forced on a path to great change, but it is your choice to walk it."
The card on the top of the deck flew up into her hand. She twirled it around, revealing the art. A dark silhouette stood on the edge of a cliff cast against a violet sky. Black scrawling script identified the card as The Hermit.
"From evil ,the world will learn the truth. Seek the outsider, follow the ember. The wailing widow watches over you, but who watches her? Return before the clock strikes two on the second day or what is most precious will be lost forever."
The card dropped from her palm back onto the desk. Celia shook herself and cleared her throat.
"I'm sorry, I blanked out there for a second."
She frowned down at the card that had landed upright on the deck. Her fingers traced the shape of the silhouette standing on the peer of a distant cliff. She mumbled something to herself and then looked at Harry as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
"Looks like big things to come and a hard road there, lucky numbers are 4, 10 and 29, lucky colours, red and gold, obviously."
Harry flicked a handful of coins onto the table with a grin.
"I got to say, squirt, the act has much improved. Thanks for the show, it was lovely."
He grinned and rose from the chair. As he walked away, Celia called after him in an unusually small voice.
"Harry."
"Yes?"
"Be careful okay?"
"Always am."
Harry strode down the alley. At the end, Celia's prophecy and warning flashed through his mind.
He could turn left, towards the market and continue on his day, or he could turn right and head back to the ship, back to his haven of rock and wood. It was all just words. Just a little street urchin's wild imagination. He was smart enough not to fall for parlour tricks and acting. A thief recognizes a thief.
Harry was so preoccupied in his thoughts that he nearly walked right into a muscular man standing in the middle of the road with his arms crossed.
Harry stopped short, head snapping up to see just who had dared get in his way. A large pox greasy face glared down at him. He recognized him as one of his father's crew. Sailing was not this particular sailor's talent. Filligan had a management role on board the Jolly Roger. He and a few other brutish individuals, kept the rest of the crew- and the townsfolk, in line.
"His royal highness finally shows himself."
Filligan sneered. Harry looked over his shoulder for his escape route. It was no use, Filligan was not alone. The rest of the Jolly Roger's enforcement crew were closing in around him. Harry took another step back and another hard mass of muscle stopped his retreat. He was surrounded.
"We've been looking for you."
The wall of muscle behind him growled.
"So I've heard."
Harry tried to sound confident, these men looked excited and it was sending off alarm bells in his head.
"You're coming with us."
Filligan announced, Harry tried to back away.
"I'd rather not."
"It wasn't a request."
The man behind him clamped a hand down over his shoulder and steered him on. The march back to the pirate docks was short and unsurprisingly, devoid of people. Along the way Harry spied a few curious onlookers peeking out of windows and alleys.
The walking group of muscle dragged Harry up the gang plank and down into his father's office. The pirate behind him tossed him into a chair and two others bound his wrists to the arms with short ropes. Harry willed himself to remain calm. The men finished with their knots and exited the room.
In the silence, Harry looked around. It was the same as it always was. Some of his earliest memories were of this very room. Harry used to sneak in here through the cabin boy's room and stare for hours at all the wonders of his father's collection. The window closest to that side door had a large section of it's red curtains torn off. Sunlight spilled into the room under the jagged edge. That was new. The doors opened behind him and for the first time in months, he heard his father's voice.
"Harry! My boy, I hear you've been busy since I saw you last. Playing village in the woods with your little friends."
Captain Hook strut past him and sank into his worn desk chair. Harry knew better than to argue with his Father when he was in one of his moods. Better to let him talk it out and it would pass like the others. He plastered on a smirk and met his father's eyes. They blazed fury. Harry looked away.
"Yes, lot's to be busy about."
"We have been busy too, you see, a rather unfortunate event happened just before the race and festivities. Something very precious to me was stolen. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that?"
His father glared at him over steepled fingers. Harry shook his head.
"That's impossible. You had the whole ship and dock under guard."
"It's a rather peculiar event. There are... Conflicting reports. "
He paused, as if looking for a response. Harry didn't have one.
"As such, I have some questions for you. I expect answers, truthful ones, unless you want me to hurt your little Captain..."
Harry's eyes widened. Hook hummed in delight.
"Yes, the old sea hag's brat. I know all about her. I know about all your little friends; Gaston's boy, the Stabbington cousins, Wiggin's daughter, all of them. "
He snarled. Harry's mouth went dry. He had never seen his father like this before. This was no mood swing. His father was angry.
"Now, the questions; have you ever had dealings with witches?"
Harry coughed in surprise. He wasn't sure what he was expecting but it wasn't that. Hook lowered his hands.
"Plenty of times."
Now it was his father's turn to look shocked. His expression flicked back to it's intense stare.
"Who and where?"
He growled. Harry tried to lean back in his chair and look relaxed. It was hard with his hands tied so far forward.
"So, so many; at the tavern, the reused cauldron shop and the non magical broom repair stall at the market.."
Hook frowned but didn't lash out. He leaned back in his chair, looking much more relaxed than Harry.
"What do you know about magic?"
"The thing that's keeping us locked up?"
"Not exclusively."
"Well, that's all I know... So?"
He inclined his head towards his bonds and wiggled his arms for emphasis.
"Where were you the night before the race?"
"Probably passed out at the chip shop."
"...What do you know about spirits?"
"I've never tasted any. Let me know if you ever find a bottle, we can make a day of it."
"Careful now, your humour is starting to sound a lot like insolence."
Hook chided with a finger.
"Spirits, ghosts, phantoms, demons..."
"Why are you asking me all these ridiculous things? Can't you figure out from the reports? There were dozens of men on guard that night."
"There were only two."
"What?"
"Two reports. Only two witnesses. Neither of them can agree what they saw but I have more faith in one."
He cleared his throat loudly and the doors opened. Heavy footsteps walked towards them. Was that a limp he heard? A hunched man, leaning on a twisted wooden can hobbled into view and stood at attention before the Captain. Harry recognized him now as the bruised man from the award ceremony.
"Mr. Moises, you're looking better every day. The fine gentlemen outside have done us the favour of finding my boy. Perhaps you would like to ask some questions."
Mr. Moises? Zachariah was old but not that old. The longer Harry stared at the wrinkled discoloured face, the more he couldn't deny the resemblance. It was the same crewman who taught him how to tie knots when he was a boy.
"Mr. Moises, what happened?"
"Don't insult me with lies. You were the one who hired the witch. You're the one responsible for the curse."
"Hired a witch? Curse? What in the world is going on here?"
"Something very precious-"
"Was stolen before the race, I got that much."
"Stolen by a witch! Not a single soul saw her come or go. Only I stumbled upon her and she attacked me. Must have cursed me while I was out because the next thing I know my whole body was on fire. Not literally but I could feel it. I screamed and screamed but no one could help me. Then it was gone. When I looked in the glass next I... I saw."
Mr. Moises trailed off. Captain Hook sighed and continued on.
"We have no one on board with motive. No one except the ones that benefited. The ones that won the race."
"I don't understand, we won that race fair and square. What does that have to do with anything?"
"Fair and square? Fair and square!? The only reason you won is because that thief ruined my plans!"
"So you were going to cheat."
Harry mumbled. Zachariah and Hook's heads whirled to him. Was that out loud?
"So you did know. Who did you hire? Where are they and where is my property?"
His father was yelling now, his face red, neck veins bulging.
"I- I don't know"
Harry stuttered.
"Lying to your own father...Perhaps your little Captain knows something of use. I can't promise that the boys will be as gentle with her as they were with you. Still, it might loosen her up before we have our little... Heart to heart."
He raised his hook into the air with an evil grin. Harry struggled against the ropes..
"Don't you dare touch her! If you so much as look at any of my crew I swear I'll-"
"Easy now, son. You're already on thin ice. Careful you don't go stomping around. "
Mr. Moises cautioned, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder.
"He's stomped plenty. Such insolence will not be tolerated. Such vagrant disloyalty, it's astounding! It's my fault, perhaps, I've been too lenient on you, given you too much freedom. I haven't been around to teach you how to be a man. It's time I taught you a lesson. Let's start with…. Humility"
He was suddenly so calm that the hair stood up on the back of Harry's neck.
"Gentlemen!"
He called from his desk. The door behind him opened and several men lumbered in.
"My son needs to learn some humility and obedience. Take him into the woods, deep enough that no one will hear anything. Beat him and leave him there. He'll have plenty of time to think about his apology on the crawl back."
Harry and Mr. Moises stared at the Captain in shock. The men made quick work of the ropes securing his hands and tied them together behind his back. They started to haul him away when his father gave them one last note.
"And gentlemen, I do mean crawl."