Chapter 16: One stormy night

Storms had a habit of popping up when they weren't expected or needed, and this time, the sea wasn't cooperating at all. Jack was the only man on deck who wasn't wearing a safety line - he was the only one who didn't need one. Even Will had taken the safer option of donning the rope, though he'd lasted through a lot of storms that had almost capsized his ship. There was something about this one that wasn't right. It screamed deceit with every howl of the wind, and it pushed the Pearl to its physical limits.

Jack leaned his hands on the edge of the ship, a grin playing at his mouth. The cabin boy had been sent to the galley, and the cook was in the brig. Will Jr. and Jamie were sticking close to the mast, their safety lines as tight as they could get them without actually cutting themselves in half. Gibbs pushed through the storm and managed to reach Jack. "Ye gonna get yeself thrown o'erboard, Cap'n! At least attach a safety line t' yer belt!" Jack shook his head, "I don't need a safety line, Gibbs. This storm has a meaning - an' I intend t' speak with it's cause!"

Gibbs didn't bother to try and make heads and tails of Jack's comment; he pushed back to the main mast, and started helping Will and Jamie tie down the sails. There was something about Jack Sparrow that made you wonder if he were indeed mad, or if he had second meaning to everything he said.

At the edge, Jack spoke softly, under his breath. "C'mon, ye scurvy dog, ye ain't nothin' but a bilge-suckin' sailor if ye think this little storm can stop Captain Jack Sparrow!" At once, the storm seemed to multiply. The Pearl creaked with warning, and Jack only laughed, "If that's all ye can do without appearin', Grey, ye've really gone soft!"

There was a final bolt of lightning, and the whole ship seemed suspended in air. Looking around, Jack realized he couldn't see any of the others on board, yet he knew they were still there, watching his every movement. There was no wind, there was no storm, there was no anything, except the deck of the ship, and the tall, very tall, man walking towards him. Jack watched for a minute, before giving his usual half-grin. "Ah, Captain Grey - 'bout time ye actually showed yeself to me, an' stopped tryin' t' kill me mate's son!"

The man looked up, revealing a face set deeply amongst battle scars, and deep lines. If Jack hadn't known the man was dead, even he would have jumped to see the face on a regular person. Grey stepped forwards, and Jack mirrored his movement. "Ye ain't scared of me, boy?" he asked, and Jack looked around, as though looking for someone behind him. "Oh... oh, you mean *me*? I'm sorry, but no I am not scared of ye a'tall. Ye must be mistakin' me fer someone else... an' by the by - the name is Sparrow, *Captain* Jack Sparrow, an' ye'll do well t' remember it, savvy?"

Grey looked almost affronted. "You dare to answer back to *me*?" he asked, and Jack nodded, "Ah, aye. I do dare to answer back to ye, because *you* have some information that I'd find very... interesting, I'd say." Grey seemed taken aback. "Really? And what information would that be?" Jack stepped forwards a few more steps, and found that Grey had disappeared, and reappeared behind him. "Oh, for the sake o' pirates everywhere - stop the infernal 'I'm a ghost and I can do this' movement - it gets annoying, savvy?"

Without waiting for an answer from the pirate ghost, if that's what he really was, Jack continued, "Ye told one o' me crew members that this voyage will only end in 'disaster and death', I believe the words were. Whose death, exactly, and why did ye use *him* to relay yer message when I'd gladly 'ave done it?" Grey laughed, a strangely hollow laugh that sent chills down Jack's spine. "I chose someone who will tell everyone what they heard, an' let the superstitious people mutiny. It's always worked before - but I never chose someone so completely trustin' as what young mister Turner is. This voyage *will* end in disaster, and at least one death. I'm no' a bloody gypsy, an' I can't tell ye *who* will die, but one o' ye will, if ye chose to follow this path, savvy?"

Jack took a seat on a barrel, very conscious of the crew on board who were watching him, though he couldn't see them. "Aye, and...?" he prompted, and Grey glanced up sharply. "This treasure ye think yer goin' after ain't all it seems t' be. Most think the curse is simple - for the person who uses the Hand, all food they try to eat turns to ash in their mouths, an' all they try an' drink turns to mud an' slime - but that ain't true. That curse legend was thrown 'round to throw people off the real one."

Grey seemed to grow in size, becoming even taller, even wider. Jack noticed that his right hand only had four fingers. It seemed Grey had wanted someone to tell the story to, because he took no time in continuing. "The curse is deadly, an' it don't just effect the person who uses the Hand. It affects all the people in the cavern at that time. It brings t' life all the men, an' women, that ye killed in the past, even if it were by accident. An' the only way t' break the curse is fer someone t' kill 'emselves, willingly, an' pay the price fer the deaths of so many people."

Jack rubbed his chin, "That's... interesting. But what's with the throwin' people o'erboard?" he asked, slapping his knees for emphasis. Grey chuckled, "Me wife always did say I had a short temper - I try an' warn people what they be gettin' into, but they never listen. There's a chance it'll sink in if they're taught a lesson, savvy?" Jack nodded in agreement, "Aye, I see yer point wi' that. But who turned ye t' gold in that cavern?" he asked, suddenly remembering the gold finger. Grey laughed, "I did. I turned meself t' gold - a fittin' end fer an ol' sea dog, ye agree? I searched all me life for the perfect treasure, an' I became it."

Jack looked shocked, considering all the stories that he'd heard about Grey being a murderous, and selfish man who'd do anything to get what he wanted, "But... but why?" Grey sighed, "Love is a difficult thing t' explain, Sparrow. I had me wife, an' me son on my ship. There were two ships in that cavern - an' one still remains. I turned meself t' gold t' save my family from the skeletons, an' fire. An' I tol' me wife t' tell my son 'bout me - but she never did. She married a nobleman, an' me son grew up thinkin' the pompous fool were 'is real father." Grey was heading straight from a reasonable guy, to one of pent up anger. Still, he hadn't let the storm into the enclosed space he and Jack were in, and the ship was still in one piece, so it couldn't have all been bad.

Just before Jack could try to get Grey to leave, the whole place suddenly felt as though it had been sucked through a whirlpool. The storm was back, and Jack was swept off his seat by a wave. Jamie reached out an arm, and caught his father before the wave had a chance to take him overboard, and Jack appeared from the wall of water, spitting up salt, and wearing the biggest grin. "We be set, Jamie-boy! We're goin' after the Hand o' Midas!" Jamie wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. He was about to say something, when a sodden, creature of sorts was thrown into his face. It screeched, and tried to get a grip in his hair.

Jack reached over and plucked the dripping monkey from his son's head, and started laughing. "What ye be doin' so far from the Isla, Jack?" he asked, and the monkey tried to bury itself under Jack's shirt. Just as Jack started to head for his cabin, the storm stopped as though someone had turned off the tap. "Well, that's better," he stated, and pulled the monkey away from his shirt. "What ye got for me, Jack?" he asked the monkey, which was trying to hide something behind it's back.

"C'mon, monkey. Give it to Jack..." he coaxed, and finally, the monkey pulled out Will's old chain, with the Aztec gold still attached. It had been close to three weeks since they'd been at the Isla de Meurte, and the monkey must have been swimming the entire journey, to make it back to it's old ship. Jack grinned, and the monkey swung onto his shoulder. "That calls fer us to take a slight detour of plans... this poor monkey can't be left to live forever cursed - set the course for the Isle! We'll stop, make repairs, restock, and head for the Isla de Meurte!"

*****

Louisa and Isabelle hadn't had a falling out, so it was difficult to explain why they were treading lightly around sensitive topics. The main one being the Bermuda Triangle - neither Louisa nor Isabelle mentioned anything that could be changed in context to relate to the Triangle - but Louisa had to wonder what Isabelle was doing when she locked herself in her room.

Back in the caverns, Louisa pulled the right catch, and her father's cavern swung open. "We have to try and make heads and tails of this journal - why does my father have a list of men, and how they died?" she asked, and Isabelle shrugged, "Maybe he knew them, and kept a record of how they died so he wouldn't forget them?" Louisa considered this, but shook her head, "No, I don't think so - because look! There are some where it just says 'unknown', and then lists how they died. If Da knew them, he'd put their name."

Isabelle took the papers from her friend, and flicked through them, not noticing the small piece that fell from the bundle. Louisa noticed it though, and picked it up. "Isabelle! Listen to this!" Louisa began, "'I am keeping this list so I may have a record of all who have died at my hands, by accident or purpose. It is only in this way that I can be sure I will amend to the murders, no matter where I end up - heaven or hell. I have killed many, and many I didn't know - perhaps it is better I did not - but this is how they died, and this price will be repaid on the day of my death.'"

Louisa read the last part, and looked at Isabelle. "Da used to keep a list, ma'ma told me. She said it was jus' after he impersonated a cleric of the church. Somethin' happened, that he ne'er told anyone 'bout, an' he started t' keep a list of the men he'd killed, and how they died, and when. But he stopped when he realized he couldn't remember the names of half of them, and he couldn't remember how the other half died," Isabelle finished, taking the paper from Louisa.

Louisa picked up a page from the list, and read to herself, "General Herrington, single pistol shot, Armadaeus, keelhauling, John Murdock, duel of swords..." she stopped when she saw Isabelle's face. "What? Do you know one of them?" she asked, and Isabelle shook her head. "No... but... Armadaeus... I know that name - who was he? Did ye know 'im?" she asked, and Louisa nodded, "Aye, he was a Captain in the fleet - Captain of the Silver Arrow. But he tried t' o'erthrow Da, an' the crews turned against him an' keelhauled 'im t' teach him a lesson, but he died two weeks later. He was mad, an' I mean completely mad."

Isabelle sat on the chair, and looked at her friend. "What d'ye mean by 'mad'?" she asked, and Louisa sighed, "When Da met him in Tortuga, an' offered him a place on the Dauntless, he brought a huge chest with him. No one could touch it, an' the one man who did ended up wi' a pistol shot through th' heart. He was a good pirate, though, an' he'd only been first mate fer a few weeks when Da reckoned he could control a ship an' crew. Then he tried t' o'erthrow Da, an' the crew keelhauled 'im. He had a cavern t' 'imself, but I don't know where it is." Isabelle dropped her gaze, "I do," she whispered.