Mr. Marshall was initially irked by being awakened from his slumber in the middle of the night, but when he saw how much of Grandfather's money Henry and I were fronting for his old fishing boat, he quickly changed his tune. He offered to help us rig it, but Henry and I had no time to tarry, and readied to make sail just as we had planned meticulously every single day for the past eighteen months. Henry got inside first, then was careful to help me up. One single brush against the ocean would alert my mother as to our location immediately, and we would find ourselves with another failed attempt. Only this time, if we failed, there would be no possible way we could try again. There was no room for error. Before making our leave, I turned to Mr. Marshall and paid him more of the money that Henry and I originally intended for the boat in exchange for his discretion; If anyone (meaning our mothers) came asking about us, he was to tell them nothing about our business. Only once Marshall gave us his word did we take our leave.
We readied the sails and pushed against the tide without much trouble, then skirted the island back into the Cove, where I had moved all of the goods I had stored for our voyage out by the docks. I stayed aboard as Henry leapt out to hand me crate after crate, which I then stowed in our limited cargo bay. We worked quickly and silently, as we hadn't a minute to spare. Once everything was stowed, we turned back towards the open ocean, I on the wheel and Henry with my mother's map and a compass on his lap. So deep in concentration were we that we hardly spoke a word as we had worked, but once we were fully ready to depart and only had to sail Eastward out of the vicinity of Shipwreck, we were completely silent, almost afraid to breathe as though even on the middle of the ocean we could be heard.
I kept checking over my shoulder, watching my home grow more and more distant, the faint shimmer from the lighthouse being our sole indication that the island was still even there. I felt apprehension stir within me as I thought about how Mother and Elizabeth would first react upon finding us gone. Mother would awaken first before Elizabeth, and would therefore be the first to realize that I was gone upon finding my note. She would then most likely transform to the dinghy in homes of catching us, but would still find it anchored in the Cove harbor. Then she would race to the lighthouse in a frenzy, alerting Elizabeth that we were gone. Together, they would scour the island and the waters surrounding the island on all sides, but we would be long gone by then. The fear would destroy them both in different ways, but I feared for my mother the most. She had just lost her father, had no idea where her brother was, and was helpless to save her husband…could she handle losing me as well?
As though reading my thoughts, Henry said quietly from behind me, "At least they have each other. And that same notion will be comforting to them: You and I have each other."
I nodded solemnly, then gave a wry smile as I turned to face him. "Aye…as long as you don't cross me. I'd hate to have to make you walk the plank, ya scurvy dog!"
Henry snorted. "Well, someone's certainly embracing their inner pirate."
"It runs in our blood," I said with a shrug.
"Wait a minute now," he protested. "I thought you didn't believe in inherited qualities from blood. I recall you making fun of my suggestion that I have my father's knack for sword-fighting not but a few days ago."
I rolled my eyes and sighed, shaking my head with a smile. "Well…maybe sometimes. I just…" I trailed off, struggling to find the right words. "I don't really have a way to know what of me is just me, and what is…his." I looked up at Henry, as I finished with, "Grandfather said I look like him. I have no way to know if that were true."
Henry's expression grew dark at the mention of Grandfather. He stood and moved to my side, his breath heavy and his eyes downcast. Sensing his impending apology for his role in my grandfather's death, I cut him off before he could start. "Henry," I murmured, laying a hand on his arm. "Please stop blaming yourself. No one holds you at fault but yourself. Forgive yourself."
He nodded slowly. "I just should have…done more, I suppose."
I shook my head. "There was nothing that could have changed what happened. We need to be at our best right now, and how can you be if you're at war with yourself?" When he didn't respond, I countered with something that I knew would get a rise out of him. "I need my First Mate at his best."
Sure enough, he sneered, giving me a sidelong glance. "And who said that you were Captain of this mission?"
I grinned mischievously. "You didn't claim the position, and we technically bought the boat with my money, so…"
Henry opened his mouth to retort, but then something on the sea caught his eye. His expression fell and his brow furrowed, as he raced away from me back toward his map.
"What is it?" I asked. He only glanced rapidly between the map and our surroundings. "Henry! What?"
He raced back to me, and with his voice low, he said, "We're in the spot. This is where the Dutchman lies."
My eyes widened and grip tightened on the wheel. "What—what should I do?" I whispered. "And why on Earth did you lead us here?"
"It's the only way out!" he explained. "Just keep a steady course. We'll be past them in a moment."
We didn't speak another word after that moment, jumping at every creak of the ship as though we were expecting to be taken down by whatever mysterious force held the vessel resting below us. I remember a chill running through me as I realized how close I was to my father, yet how far away we were, separated by leagues upon leagues of ocean. Could he see our ship passing over him from below? Was he wondering who was aboard? Would he ever guess that it was Henry and I, on our way to rescue him?
Henry finally spoke first after a time, saying, "We're clear. We made it through," wherein we both breathed a massive sigh of relief. But making it through meant something else as well: It meant that we were now fully out of sight from Shipwreck. He and I exchanged an excited yet also frightened glance as it finally sank in that we were on our own adventure, just as our parents had undertaken so fearlessly when they were our age. It was our turn to make a difference, and it was solely within our power to either succeed or fail. The notion was terrifying.
Henry carried out a few tasks onboard to help make the rest of our long voyage to St. Martin the swiftest, then asked if I wished that he relieve me on sailing duties. I replied that no, I was already fully awake. Any hope of sleep was a far-off notion, and that rather, he should take the first shift. Using a few empty sacks, he made out a sleeping area on our deck, then settled in to rest.
After a few moments, I thought that I was alone with my thoughts. I started, however, when suddenly I heard his voice cut through the silent night air one final time.
"Anna?"
"What?"
"The name."
"What name?"
"The name of the boat. Have you given it any thought?"
I sighed. "Honestly, Henry, I've been a little busy."
"I know, I know," he said gently. "I just…I had an option."
"Alright," I replied. "What is it?"
"What about the Dauntless? It's been out of commission for over twenty years now, and I just thought that with how big of an undertaking our journey is, we're going to have to be 'dauntless.'" There was another reason he wasn't mentioning—that was the name of my father's ship that had been sunk in a hurricane, forever changing his life. I said nothing, touched by the sentiment and overcome with emotions still unsettled. "Anna?" he asked, unnerved by my silence.
"Yes," I said, coming to. "I…I think it's perfect."
The Dauntless wasn't a perfect boat. It creaked with warped, waterlogged floorboards and had a slight leak in a few places that I was sure to keep far away from, yet it still did us well. Our biggest concern was coming across another pirate, Spanish, or English ship who would try to attack or sack us. Thankfully, we appeared to be penniless children on a fishing expedition, so any passersby paid us no mind.
Midway through our week-long journey, Henry and I had our plan upon reaching St. Martin solidified; dock, search tirelessly for either the diary or information about the diary, and not give up until we were certain that we had exhausted our resources. Our conversations then moved onto more postulation about our fathers' situation, and how the trident would reverse their fate.
"'Begin at the end,'" Henry said one day, his fingers twirling repetitiously around the necklace Will had given him. "That's what my father told Rose. What do you suppose that means?"
"It means nothing to me," I replied. Then a thought occurred to me… I had realized that I had forgotten to tell Henry what my grandfather had told me as he lay dying. "Hold on a moment…Grandfather! Before he died, he said that Davy Jones was the one to sink the Misty Lady. That he had heard him! I thought at first they were just the ramblings of a man consumed by pain, but what if they aren't? What if they're real?"
Henry shook his head. "That's not possible. I was there, I certainly heard voices, but Jones couldn't possibly be among them. Mother and Father were there, they saw him die!"
I shrugged. "'Begin at the end?' The end of your father's life is the beginning of their imprisonment?"
He considered this for a moment, then shook his head. "I don't see it. The Curse explicitly states that there can only be one Captain of the Flying Dutchman. There's no way Jones could have returned." He looked at me sadly, saying, "I'm sorry, Anna. I think that Teague was simply confused."
I nodded, though I was still unconvinced. Grandfather was anything but senile, not even laying dying could reverse that. He knew what he heard, and to him, it meant that Davy Jones had returned from his watery grave.
Days later, we made port in St. Martin's southernmost harbor. Tentatively, I stepped out onto the docks on unsteady sea legs, unaccustomed to the switch between land and sea. I knelt down to steady myself so that I wouldn't fall into the ocean as we tied off the Dauntless, then together, Henry and I grasped onto each other as we struggled to walk straight past the bustling docks and into the main area of the town.
In many ways, it reminded us of Shipwreck; thatched roofs, buildings two floors high, dirt paths, squares with cobbled stonework, and locals everywhere. The main difference was that the company we now kept was not among pirates, but rather men and women of the Crown. Together, us disheveled, dirty Shipwreck-dwellers who hadn't seen a bath in over a week felt rather out of place as compared to the women in fine dresses and men in powdered wigs that walked past us with confused expressions at our appearance. Henry located a pail of stagnant water sitting outside a blacksmith shop that we quickly used to mop ourselves up, and I used what little remaining funds we had left to buy us a fresh change of clothes. This at least would preserve our anonymity for a time.
All that was left was to begin our search. "Where should we start?" Henry asked me.
"Anywhere, I suppose." I turned and walked away from him, catching sight of an approaching a woman carrying a pink parasol, holding a child by the arm. "Excuse me ma'am," I began. "You haven't happened upon a book with a red ruby inlaid in the cover, have you?"
The woman furrowed her brow. "No, I can't say that I have. Why? Did your father or brother misplace it?"
I narrowed my eyes in confusion. "No, I'm looking for it myself. It was given away, and—"
I was cut off by the woman growing close to me, her voice low and intense. "My dear girl, are you married? Has your husband permitted these actions?"
My jaw dropped in sheer astonishment. "Wh…my husband? What actions?"
"It is improper and very dangerous for a young woman to read. You could be tried! Just the very thought that you—"
"Excuse me!" Henry, who had been listening to our interaction from afar, interrupted, racing to my side. "Yes, ma'am, I am her husband, yes." He put his hands on my shoulders, as though that somehow proved our matrimony.
My face twisted in utter horror as I glared up at him, but he quickly shot me a look that said, Play along!
The woman then turned on Henry. "And you have permitted her to read?"
"I have, yes," Henry said calmly, though his eyes were wide with uncertainty.
The woman clicked her tongue, yanking her child closer to her skirts. "'Tis still improper, but if it's by your doing, then it is at least within standards of propriety." She looked to me. "No, I have not seen such a book. If I were you, I'd keep a better eye on your belongings." With a solid, Humph! the woman turned away, leaving Henry and I completely bewildered on the street.
Henry still grasped my shoulders, which I quickly wriggled out of, shuddering at what had just unfolded. "'My husband!' The very thought! I'm 14 years old!"
Henry shook his head in disbelief. "Apparently, that's old enough here."
"And a woman not being permitted to read?" I asked. "That's just absurd." I looked around at the other people on the street. "I suppose that means you should do the brunt of the questioning then, dearest."
He chuckled at my joke, but then grew somber as he spotted something. "Anna, over there!" he said, wandering towards a wooden board that had been erected in the town square. As we approached, we saw that it was completely covered with parchment that had been nailed up. All of them were 'Wanted' postings, many of them featuring renderings of pirates who were frequent visitors to Shipwreck. We exchanged horrified glances, then scoured the board for our mothers, fathers, anyone else that could spell danger for us. The only thing that we found was a posting that had been partially covered by a newer post. When Henry tore it away, our eyes went wide. Henry then fumbled around in his pockets for a piece of parchment he had brought with him from home. Once he finally procured it, he placed the two side by side. They were nearly identical.
WANTED: Jack Sparrow, the Notorious Pirate. Dead or Alive.
The bounty made us exchange a confused glance, however, as we saw that the original printing of a reward of 100 pounds had gradually decreased to but one.
"That's all?" I asked. "But…if he's so 'notorious,' why is the bounty so low?"
"Because the threat of the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow has all but vanished," an unfamiliar voice said from behind us, sending me and Henry spinning around with a leap to face him. The newcomer was a British official, donning a large tricorn hat and a light-colored wig. His face was set and his eyes were beady and bore into us.
I gulped, stammering, "Apologies, sir. We were just…astonished by the amount of wanted criminals on this board."
He straightened his back, looking over our heads at it. "I know. Alarming, is it not? Aye, pirates abound in these areas. But one is never too young to do their civic duty." He looked back down at us, his gaze jumping from Henry's eyes to mine. "If you happen upon a face from these signs, you are to say something to one of my men at once, understood? Ask for Scarfield, and they'll direct you my way."
Henry and I gave a quick glance to each other to share in our uncertainty. He recovered quickly, however, turning back to the board and pointing at the image of my Uncle. "This pirate as well? Even though he's not considered a threat?"
Scarfield snorted. "Though that one is fairly inconsequential, that doesn't mean he is absolved of his crimes. I'd relish being the one to finally succeed in hanging him, if he hasn't already died."
I narrowed my eyes, inwardly seething at the dig. Did this man know my father? Was he making a reference to the fact that my father had let Jack get away when Will helped him escape from Port Royal?
Henry was thinking rationally, however, not letting personal matters get the better of him, as I was. "'Hasn't already died?' What do you mean by that, sir?"
"There are conflicting accounts that render his fate uncertain," Scarfield replied. My blood ran cold at the thought that the reason for my uncle's extended absence was because he was dead. My mother could have been laboring under the assumption that he was safe and alive all this time when he could very well be anything but. Scarfield continued, however, with, "He has a grave on the island, though whether or not the skeleton within is actually him is up for debate. Sparrow hasn't been a threat since the days of the War on Piracy, so even if he is somehow still kicking, his best days are behind him. There are more prevalent dangers on our shores." He then leaned over us, placing a steady finger on a posting depicting a girl with fair skin and dark hair. "WANTED: The Brazen Witch Carina Smyth, Sorceress and Temptress, Advocate for Women's Education."
Henry and I exchanged another knowing glance, which read, "I suppose the punishment for a freely educated woman is as steep as we were told."
"If you spot this wench," Scarfield proceeded, "Alert one of my men at once. She's an untrustworthy witch, spreading her lies and trickery to innocent townspeople. She's currently in hiding, and when we find her, she will hang for her crimes." He gazed earnestly at us. "Can I count on you both to serve in your civic duty?"
Henry and I were silent at first, until his frightening glare sent us whimpering, "Oh aye," and "Yes, certainly, um…sir."
"Good," he chirped. "After all, children are the future." He then squinted, eyeing Henry up and down. "Speaking of which, lad, have you ever considered joining the Navy?"
"Can't say that I have, sir," Henry stammered.
"Well you should. A strapping young lad like you, adventure on the high seas, more money than you can dream of… It would do you good, boy. Consider enlisting."
With that, he turned on his heel and was off, meandering out of sight down a narrow alley.
Once we were alone, I muttered to Henry, "Enjoy the powdered wig, Navy boy."
"You're one to talk, Admiral's daughter."
I snickered, then looked up at him. "Can we both agree to stay as far away from that one as possible?"
"Agreed," he retorted. I turned to leave, but Henry tarried behind to tear the Jack Sparrow posting off the board, shoving it into his pocket. "Best take down as many of these as we can, eh?"
"Good thinking," I said.
He then took a deep breath. "Well, shall we continue our search?"
"Aye…" I said, my eyes scanning the passersby for our next victim to be questioned about Galileo's diary. "How about there? By those men constructing that bank building?"
We asked, and searched, and wandered, and asked, and searched, and wandered, and asked, and searched, and ceaselessly wandered until we were certain we had rounded the entire island. For three months, it stayed that way. We slept in the Dauntless by night, feasted off of our cargo until the supply had been depleted, then finally had to resort to buying food from the town with our already limited pocket change.
What was the most dangerous was that our spirits were sinking faster than ever. Three months into our journey, and the fruit of our efforts were just as nonexistent as they had been upon the time of our leaving Shipwreck. Worst of all, I began to grow increasingly homesick with every passing day. In that time, I had turned 15 years old, and I ached for the comfort of home. I still felt incredibly guilty at leaving my mother, and I longed to feel her assuring embrace once more. There were days I would awaken, stare down into the ocean, and lean my hand over, my fingertips just a few inches away from the surface. How quickly would it be to just let my skin make contact? My mother would be aboard the Dauntless instantly. Maybe she would be so impressed with how Henry and I had worked together that she would help us in our journey, instead of making us go home.
But I would immediately realize this to be wishful thinking and retract my hand back away from the water. Of course Mother would make us return to Shipwreck. She would be livid. We might not even be permitted outdoors again, let alone on the sea. So? We kept searching for the diary, to no avail.
After yet another unsuccessful day, Henry and I walked back to the docks, defeated. I was staring down at my feet popping out from beneath the dirty skirt of my only dress with every step I took. It took me a few paces to realize that Henry had stopped dead in his tracks. I looked back, then followed his horrified gaze as I saw that at the docks, the Royal Navy was aboard the Dauntless, tying it to a larger frigate to be towed away.
Our ship, our home, was gone.
