Disclaimer: No mouse ears for me. No profit made, just a little fun.

A/N: Many thanks to Rachel. I am not worthy.

Wait For No Man

Chapter 13

Something was terribly, terribly wrong.

She couldn't put her finger on it, nor on why she felt so, but Anamaria knew as sure as certain that there was something horribly amiss.

Accept your guide. The voice of Maman echoed in the lady pirate's head. Ana closed her eyes and waited, and was immediately surrounded by the fragrance of beach roses. It made her think of something… just outside her reach. No matter. Her feet began to move, seemingly of their own volition, falteringly at first and then faster and faster, as though she were being pulled along by an unseen tether.

Gritting her teeth, Ana tried not to panic. Open yourself, Maman said. When a Loa guides you, you has to trust.

Easier said than done, but Ana held on, running at a blind sprint now. And as suddenly as the feeling had taken her, it abated. With a gasp Ana's dark eyes flew open.

Pebbles clattered over the raw edge of the cliff, where Ana's toes jutted over the brink. She stumbled back from the sheer drop, panting. What did it mean?

And then a voice floated to her from far below, echoing weirdly in the damp night air. A man's voice, crying out in pain… calling for…

Ana's eyes grew round and she threw herself on the ground at the edge, craning her neck over to see. Yes, there it was, a cave in the cliff face. She could make out a path, but too far away, and probably filled with pirates. There had to be another way down… Frantically she ran her gaze over the immediate area. Ah!

There was a stand of shrubs a few feet away, their branches drooping gracefully over the side of the cliff. If Ana went slow and canny, she could probably make that ledge, and from there… No time left to figure it out. She wasn't sure how she knew that, but she accepted it, dashing to the shrub – beach roses, she noticed with a small smile – and began to let herself down carefully.

The rest of the scramble to the beachhead was a blur, but she made it. Ana flattened herself against the cliff wall at the entrance to the cavern. The agonized voice belonged to Bill, she recognized it now. He was calling for –

Again the fragrant wind swirled around her, lifting her black hair in a small maelstrom. Ana's eyes grew wide, and without further ado she filled her lungs and dove into the swirling water roiling into the cave.

Black and cold it was, the sea, but Ana could feel someone tugging gently at her, and she swam doggedly in that direction.

She found something, brushed against it with her outstretched fingertips. At first she thought it was seaweed, but it was too silky, winding through her fingers, and then she hit something else soft yet hard below, and that something jerked away. Instinctively Ana followed the small movement, and found a face.

Will's face.

That was the anguish in Bill's voice. That was what was so horribly wrong. Will was drowning.

Not if Ana had anything to say about it.

She cupped the sides of his head and found his mouth, pressing her lips close and hard, forcing his mouth open. He struggled, but Ana had known he would mistake her intent. Then she gave him all the air left in her lungs.

With a mighty kick Anamaria burst through the water's surface, threw her hair back and sucked in a breath, diving back down in the same movement. This time she gave Will half her air, and this time he took it greedily. She groped for the knife stuck in her belt and felt blindly along Will's body to find where he was tied, slashing at the heavy rope. It wasn't enough; her lungs were burning. Ana kicked for the surface a second time, gave Will a breath, and finally the rope gave way. In another heartbeat, two dark heads broke the surface of the sea.

~*~

In the darkest part of the marsh, an old woman stopped rocking and chanting… and smiled.

Belle watched carefully. Oui, Maman was herself again, at least for a time. "Maman?"

"I is still here, child. But the trouble is too." Her voice was grave. "There was more trouble than I knew, and the gros bon ange, she was pulled away from the little one. Now she is weaker."

"Protect the jeune fille, Maman. Protect ma petite," Belle begged, tears starting to her eyes. She knew what she asked, the stirring of the darker side of Vodoun, but Belle didn't care, not when her Lizbet was in danger.

"Aye," Maman nodded. She clapped, twice. There was a squawk from beyond the rim of the light cast by the fire, quickly silenced; and then Pierre stepped into the light, offering the old mambo a new-made charm of white feathers and sticky red. Belle bit her lip, trying to ignore the dark stains spattered across the houngan's white tunic as he produced a wooden cup in his other hand.

Maman smiled as she poured a thin stream of crimson upon the ground, following the contours of the veve she'd made earlier. "Now, we see what we see."

And she drank.

~*~

Edmund approached the house as stealthily as he could, given that there was naught but a wide expanse of overgrown lawn to hide him. But the night helped, and the element of surprise. He hoped.

And then, as he watched, the lights in the house went out one by one. Their enemy was on the move, heading for the sea and the ship Ana had spotted earlier. Edmund ran forward, crouching low, diving below a tiny hillock when a slice of candlelight lit the doorway of the mansion. He counted: six, no seven figures silhouetted against the clouded sky, the first one carrying a bulky burden. The burden squirmed.

Lizbet.

A plaintive wail drifted across the lawn to Edmund, and he gritted his teeth. Yet angry as he was, he knew a frontal attack would result in nothing better than a heroic death, and the breaking of his vow to Will. And that he would not allow.

Will… Jack… Bill… Edmund prayed like hell Ana had found them, and found them alive. They'd agreed to part company, he to find his goddaughter and she to find her captain. Edmund crept along behind his quarry, looking for an opening. He'd have little chance at best to save the child if no help were forthcoming.

The wind churned up then, the delicate scent of beach roses in the air. The sudden gale pushed the clouds away, and a figure appeared at the edge of the cliff, silhouetted against the moon like an avenging angel, his wet hair whipping in the maelstrom, a knife clenched in his fist.

"PUT MY DAUGHTER DOWN!" roared Will, fury in his tone.

The group of pirates stopped; Lizbet screamed for her father.

Edmund ran hard toward them. "Will!" he shouted, then threw his sword as high and hard as he could. It seemed to hang in the air, glittering as it fell end over end… and then Will leapt for it, catching the hilt and leveling it at the leader, who staggered back, clutching his burden tightly.

"She is mine! You shall never have her again!" he cried in a reedy voice; a familiar voice, thought Edmund, but he was shaken from his musing as from behind Will raced three more figures to stand at his back.

The wind howled and spun in a vortex of wrath; mist rolled in at their feet, obscuring the landscape. Thunder cracked; lightning forked through the sky, illuminating the faces of the combatants. Edmund stared. Swann? How – what –

And then all thought fled as another arc of lightning showed the false Jack aiming a pistol, straight at Jack Sparrow's heart.

~*~

He didn't know what hit him, didn't realize that the last sound was not the crack of thunder but the report of a pistol. There was a blur of white toward him and then the ground came up to meet him suddenly, jarringly, painfully. Somebody cried out, someone else screamed; and then Jack rolled out from under Edmund, staring in horror at the blood streaking the other man's shirt. Jack snapped his head up, black fury in his heart.

The imposter was backing away, a smoking pistol in his hand.

Jack bared his teeth and started for him.