The following night, I found myself in an alcove, submerged in darkness and free from any lamplights that might give my position away. My heart pounded in my chest. Come on, Father, I thought, my mind whirring with every possible outcome, imagining all the many ways this could all go horribly awry. I had run through the plan at least a dozen times with him: Using a barrel of gunpowder and a smashed oil lamp, Father would stage an explosion in a wooden cart we had parked just a few feet from the south entrance to the prison. The loud kerfuffle would be enough to draw the attentions of the three guards who were stationed at the door, blocked only I simply had to wait for the signal, and then, in theory, I could then sneak within and find Carina to deliver my hair pins. The anticipation and fear of getting caught made every passing second I had to wait feel interminable, but I took deep breaths and reminded myself to be patient. I closed my eyes and repeated the plan to myself for the umpteenth time when all of a sudden…

KER-BLAM!

"What the bloody hell was that?!" shouted one of the guards, and once I heard footsteps, I dared peer around the corner from my alcove to watch the three of them race towards the flaming cart, just as Father had arranged. He was nowhere to be found, so I kept close to the stone wall of the prison exterior and backed my way towards the entrance gate. Gaze still ahead in case one of them came back, my hand found the latch and gave a firm tug.

…locked?!

This was not according to plan. If a gate was constantly on guard, rarely was it locked as well. I spun around, fully facing the gate as I examined it. Cross-hatched steel. Square in shape, but fitted inside an arched stone entry. Hmm…I could easily scale the gate, but could I fit within the small gap between the straight edge of the gate and the slope of the stone ceiling?

There was only one way to find out. My heart pulsating in my ears, I leapt onto the gate and quickly shimmied up it, pushing the top half of my body over first and getting caught…at my stomach.

No, I thought in a panic. Come on! If I am to be caught, let it not be in the most humiliating way imaginable. I tugged and tugged, pushing and pulling myself, but I was completely immobile. I heard the voices of the guards outside start to draw nearer and I immediately grew frantic, pushing harder. Finally, I took a large intake of air, tensing my stomach muscles to condense them, then gave myself one last push over. I overestimated the force necessary, however, and my backend flipped over my front so that I was most assuredly going to land on my head. The drop I anticipated, however, surprisingly never came. Opening my eyes, I saw that the world was upside down, and I was still a good distance from the ground. Looking up, I saw that my left trouser leg had been caught on a bolt on the gate that jutted out. I tightened my stomach once more to sit up to free myself, but as I did, the fabric tore entirely and I fell to the ground hard with an exclamation of "OOF!" There was no time to lose, so I rolled safely out of sight just as the guards came back to their post, unlocking the gate, and racing in a direction opposite me.

I stood and brushed myself off. Now I was inside…but had absolutely no idea where to head next. The only choice I had was to follow those guards, for at least then I was guaranteed to find some sort of action. With trepidation, I made my way down twisting hallways and corridors, holding my breath as I paused between each turn I made, praying that no guard was there to find me out and capture me. Soon, every drip of water, every crackle of a lantern overhead, every distant voice felt as though it was inside my head, coming at me from every direction, and I was hopelessly lost. Suddenly, footsteps! My stomach lurched as I saw lights from torches coming from around the next bend in the corridor, the voices of numerous men drawing nearer. I turned to high-tail it back where I had come from, only to hear more men coming towards me. My feet were plastered to the ground as I realized that I was surrounded, unable to move. I was to be spotted for certain.

I didn't know what was happening when I felt the hand grab me by the collar of my shirt at the last moment, pulling me into a poorly-lit intersecting hallway that was invisible to my eyes. I cried out in surprise, my voice echoing as the hand pressed against my mouth, silencing me. I starting wriggling to get free of his grasp when I realized— Father! Of course he had been tracking me throughout the prison, transforming within to trace my every move. In a swift movement, he spun me around so that his back was exposed to the open hallway and I was completely protected, and together we froze listening as the two groups moving towards one another finally convened.

"Lieutenant, sir!" one man cried.

"Jeffries, you had better have a good explanation for the tomfoolery that has been going on. The East wing guards just passed shouting about some flaming cart?"

"Aye, sir," a new voice conquered. "We saw the whole thing from above. A man in a cloak was ambling around it for awhile before cracking a lantern over it. Seems terribly suspicious."

Father and I exchanged a worried glance. We had been spotted.

"Do you reckon it's some sort of coup, sir?" a third voice questioned.

"Well who would know if no one is stationed outside?" the lieutenant asked. There was only silence in response, to which he then barked, "GO OUTSIDE AND KEEP WATCH, YOU PESTILENT TOADS!"

As the two men fumbled to race back towards the place from whence they came, the lieutenant turned back towards his men, "Fools, the lot of them. Now, you two, find any man off duty. We need extra watch on all places of entry and egress…"

Father made eye contact with me as he gave a firm nod and moved away from me. In a swift move, I watched him smash apart the nearest lamp with the hilt of his sword, extinguishing the most immediate light source and enveloping us all in darkness. After hearing the surprised shouts of the men, I listened in the utter blackness of clanging metal, various punches and shouts, followed by three sequential collapses to the ground. Then…nothing.

"…Father?" I whispered.

Silence. I dared step further out, drawing my sword. Trembling, I hissed once more, "Father?"

Just then, from around the corner he emerged, carrying a lamp. "Sorry," he said, "Had to take care of them and grab a new light so we could see. He motioned for me to walk towards him. "Watch your step," he said, motioning downwards towards the sprawled bodies of the lieutenant and his two officers.

"Good Lord!" I exclaimed, "Are they…?"

"Dead?" he finished. "No, Anna. Contrary to what you might think, I'm not a monster." He held out the lamp to me to hold as he sheathed his sword. Then he bent down and began to take the royal blue jacket off the conked-out lieutenant. "No, as you clearly weren't getting anywhere on your own—"

"Hey!" I protested. "I got in, didn't I?"

He looked up at me, a skeptical eyebrow raised. "Oh? That trouser leg a bit shorter than the other, hmm?"

I sighed, frowning at the torn cloth hanging loosely by my ankle. So he had seen my clumsy entrance. "Well, point is, I made it."

"Barely," he quipped, holding up the coat triumphantly. "So therefore, we now have escaped this group, and I am now at least partially camouflaged."

I took hold of it as he began to take off his own jacket, brittle and faded from years in salt water. It was as though it was fused to the rest of his person, he was struggling so to free himself from it.

"Need help?" I asked.

"No, I have it."

I winced. "How long have you had that thing?"

With one final effort, he freed himself from it, and before tossing it aside, he touched a spot on the back of it, where a hole had been stitched up with black thread. "Longer than I care to admit," he said softly. I would only later deduce that that had been the Admiral's coat he had died in, the hole formed by Bootstrap's spear that had killed him, and the repair made lovingly by my mother a year into their marriage.

Hearing more voices behind us, Father quickly took the new coat from me and slung it on, then grabbed the lantern and bent down to grab the lieutenant's tricorn hat as we stepped over the men back on our route. I hesitated, however, causing him to look back at me. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing," I said, motioning towards his new disguise. "I just…this was you."

He shrugged slightly. "Give or take a wig, facial hair and the occasional barnacle or two."

Though I soon followed after him, I couldn't help but feel shaken by this insight into my father's past. This environment was where he was raised, he knew it well. He expertly navigated the fortress corridors, telling me to mind my head whenever we happened upon a lamp, which he would smash to conceal us further.

When we heard voices coming our way, I froze once more. "What do we do?" I whispered. After only a brief pause, Father spun around, handing me the lamp. "Here," he said. "Hold it behind me, and remain silent. I obeyed, though I had no idea what his plan was.

As the new men grew closer, Father raised his sword. "Who goes there?" he bellowed.

The newcomers followed suit, raising their weapons toward him as they neared. "We should ask the same of you!" one cried.

"How dare you!" Father tossed back. "Do you not recognize the King's Ambassador to His Majesty's Royal Navy? This is an embarrassment and an insult! You're telling me Scarfield didn't inform you of my presence?"

I was alarmed at how quickly Father was able to weave this lie, and how convincing he was. The men, only able to see his silhouette behind my lamplight drew closer, stammering, "Well, um…" "There's been a lot of commotion lately, sir," "Scarfield never told us—"

"Silence! The lot of you!" Father commanded. "Have you not been made aware that there's a plot to infiltrate the prison? Some scoundrel has set up a diversion outside, and we have reason to believe one, if not many pirates have broken within. We're certain some ill-prepared escape mission is nigh. I need you to grab as many men as you can and head for the south wall. We are completely exposed from there."

"From…the ground or balcony, sir?"

"Did I specify? I said completely exposed, you idiot! Now run, before I report you all to King George myself! Go!" They did so without delay, turning around and racing down the corridor to apparently where the south door was. Once they were gone, Father reached a hand behind him and took me by the shoulder. After a few more paces in silence, he pushed me in front and ahead of him. "The structure here is similar to Port Royal's," he whispered, turning my shoulders to the left towards a new, dimly lit corridor. "Down this way is where the prisoners should be kept."

I looked up at him. "Where are you going?"

"I'll be right behind you to ward off any newcomers and in case there's any danger, but you must go on ahead. Find your girl." He gave me a slight push for me to head out on my own, calling after me, "Sword alert, stay away from the sides!"

Stay away from the sides? I thought, confused as I sprinted down the hall. I turned towards an inconspicuous doorway that I instantly knew contained prisoners by the stench. I gagged, but proceeded onwards, using my lamp to check through the prison bars that flanked either side of me for any sign of Carina. Instead, I was taken aback at filthy faces pressed at the bars to catch a closer glimpse of me, barking things like, "Oi, this way, missy!" "Come to the wrong place, lass?" "O'er here! We don't bite!"

Startled, I backed up, but just a bit too far, as from between the bars, a hand grabbed my hair and pulled me back, pinning me against the iron. The ruffian incoherently grumbled and gurgled into my ear, and I swung my sword wildly until I got it in between the bars, pushing it behind me in hopes of nicking him. I must have succeeded, for he yelped out in pain, releasing me. I stumbled back to the center of the hall, my heart pounding. "Stay to the side." Idiot! I thought to myself.

Continuing on, I quietly called out, "Carina? Carina Smyth?" I asked this of every cell I passed, but no Carina did I see, nor any woman whatsoever.

After what seemed like eons of searching, I got an answer to my cries of "Carina?"

"You'll not find her kind here, girlie," a husky voice with a unique accent replied. I swung the lamp towards his voice, drawing closer. "Who said that?" I asked.

In a cell with several others, I saw long, twisted hair, both of whom were in my family! "Uncle Jack?" I asked.

The owner of the hair spun around, revealing an older man with a rounded face…not Jack, though he curiously replied, "Am…I your uncle too?"

"You're…" my voice trailed off, confused. "No, I'm sorry, I was confused. You're not Jack."

"Oh but I am!" he protested.

I hesitated, but soon shook off this odd behavior. "Oh never mind," I said in a huff, "You said I wouldn't find Carina here. Where is she?"

He shrugged, "Any lass they keep here, they keep underground."

"And how do I get there? I asked.

"Make two lefts, then down the stairs, and another left."

Another man within the cell barked, "How do you know that, Teague?"

My blood ran cold. Was this man…posing as my uncle? Was he a different Jack Teague? But no, that was impossible…

"I'm well versed in this prison, Peter, you know that! I am very familiar with the women's quarters, savvy?" he replied with a suggestive guffaw.

I hadn't the time to question him further, so I said, "Thank you sir, thank you ever so much!" and raced off.

"Any time, lass!" he cried back.

His directions proved consistent, as after two lefts, a quick tumble down some poorly lit stairs and another left, I came across a new row of cells that appeared…completely empty. Save one, however.

"Carina Smyth?" I called again, running down the aisle.

"Who's there?" Carina yelled back, two cells from where I presently was, sending a wave of relief through me. I jogged over to where she was, a smile spreading across my face at seeing her standing there.

Her curious expression soon turned to one of rage, however, as she grumbled, "Oh. It's you. Come to mock the witch the night before her execution, have you?"

"Not in the slightest," I protested, sheathing my sword and drawing closer to her. "I never meant…" but soon I realized that my excuses weren't pertinent. "Here," I said, taking the hairpins from my hair and offering them to her.

She raised an eyebrow. "…and these will…?"

"Free you, if you wish. When the time is right, pick the lock and make your escape. In the meantime, best stow them away in your hair so that they aren't confiscated by a guard."

"Anna!" my father's voice cut through the darkness as he suddenly transformed to join us, causing both me and Carina to jump.

"Just a moment!" I hissed toward his approximate direction.

Gingerly, Carina took my pins from my outstretched palm. "Why are you helping me?" she asked suspiciously.

"Because you don't deserve any of this." I then sheepishly added, "And it is technically my fault that you're here."

"Mmm. Yes it is. Well, much obliged," she said, beginning to pin up her hair, "But I'm afraid they'll catch me straight off once I'm out again."

"Anna, let's go!" Father's voice insisted again.

"In a moment!" Then, to Carina I urgently whispered, "When you're free, if you hear talk of Henry Turner, find him. He will help you."

"Anna!" The third cry from Father came once Carina and I finally noticed the guard who had been patrolling the cells and had taken notice of me. "Hey! You!" he shouted, bayonet raised and racing straight towards me.

"Look out!" Carina warned me, but was cut off by Father intercepting the attack once more, dispatching the guard with another swift blow to the face. This however came at the expense of revealing his face to Carina in the lamplight, who recoiled away from the bars in alarm.

My gaze shifted rapidly between him and her as stiff silence filled the room, both of their eyes wide and staring. Finally, Father broke it by saying gruffly, "We'll leave no trace we were ever here. I'll move him so that when he awakens, he'll think this all to be a hallucination."

Breathily, she replied, "Thank you, sir."

With a slight nod, he grabbed hold of the man by the back of his collar and yanked him upwards to be dragged away. Turning to me, he snapped, "When I say, 'let's go,' let's go. Come." And with that, they were gone.

Before I turned to follow him, Carina came back towards me, whispering, "Disease?"

I hesitated, knowing that there was too much to explain. "…something like that." She blinked, not understanding but also not imploring me further. I felt frozen beneath the gaze of her ice blue eyes, but I finally shook myself from them. "Well, I suppose I should…go." I said, motioning towards where my father had gone.

"Aye," she replied. I turned to leave, heading off in the direction my father had just disappeared, but pausing when I heard her call, "Thank you, Anna."

Joy spread through me at hearing her say my name. Smiling, I called back, "Farewell…Carina."