Thanks to the faithful circle. I think I'm writing for five of us here… And yes, Victoria, there is a Santa Claus. This one's for you… or maybe not… bwahahaha…

I think I've finally cleared up all the mistyping in chap 8. Lord knows a writer should not post when ill… *sigh*…


Will coughed several times as he came up on deck. Scrubbing his hands through tangled hair, he walked blearily over to the rail, searching the water after yet another sleepless night. To starboard he could see the gray remains of a storm far off on the horizon, but it looked like the Esperance would miss it entirely. He vaguely registered the sound of footsteps behind him.

"You won't be doing us any good in that state. Go below and get some sleep."

The boy lifted his head slowly and met his father's blue-green eyes. "I'm fine," he said defiantly. "And I won't sleep anyway." Even in those moments when Will thought he might doze off, it seemed his father was there droning over and over; about the curse, about his mother, about Swann. Sometimes he heard it now when his father wasn't even there. Sometimes all he could see was his mother's face, white as a lily, still as death. Sometimes he didn't know how much more he could take.

The captain of the commandeered Esperance, 'Bootstrap' to his makeshift crew, put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Look, son. You'll need your strength for when we reach the island."

"I'll need my strength?" Confusion ran through Will's expression. It seemed that he'd been able to keep his father in the dark about his real intentions, although he had the help of Governor Swann for that. He had told Elizabeth's father what he felt he could, even suggested that he take a dinghy and try to make shore. Swann had just looked at him and said 'I'm not going anywhere until I'm sure Elizabeth is safe'. He did agree to stay in his cabin, though. Will still couldn't believe the old man had it in him... But Bootstrap's voice broke through his thoughts.

"Aye. I know it's at the island that he has to die, but just how…" The older man shook his head and looked back to his son. "Does he still believe we're trying to help him find his daughter?"

Will nodded. The amount of deception he was trying to keep straight was making his head hurt, straining his overly tired mind. His father had no idea that Elizabeth was Swann's daughter. Will had told him that the governor had a daughter, though, who was prone to running off. On the other hand, Governor Swann thought that there was help waiting at the Isla De Muerta, and that he was in no real danger because of that.

"Better then, that he keeps to his cabin. If I have to look at his face too much I'll do him in here on deck."

Adrenaline gave Will a startling burst of energy. "But you can't –" his father shot a dark look at him, and he backpedaled. "You can't - because of the curse. It must be at the island. Blood wants blood." Turner nodded in agreement as Will repeated the litany that he had told the boy a hundred times already.

"Aye. But he better keep to his cabin just the same." His father stalked off toward the helm, and Will felt himself sag. It was only a matter of time before he slipped somewhere, said something to the wrong person. Before he started believing the things he was repeating more and more frequently… shaking his head severely against that thought, he coughed again, rested his head in his hands, his elbows on the rail. The mumble was barely audible. "Damn it, Jack, where are you…" He had half expected the Pearl to take them on at sea, and now he was beginning to wonder if they were coming at all…if Jack was willing to take that chance…if it mattered…

"Boy." The voice behind him made him turn with a start.

"Oh. Coltrane." Will tried to bring his unnerved senses back into line as he looked at the older crewman. "What is it?"

"Here." The older sailor handed him a cup. "It'll get that cough down. Last thing we need is the whole ship lookin' like you do."

Will glanced at it warily, raising an eyebrow. "I'm sure I'll be fine."

"Not you I'm worried about, boy. It's the rest of us." He shook his head as Will grimaced and sniffed at the dark, slightly warm liquid. "Just quaff that off. Better to do it in one go."

"Why?"

The sarcasm in the sailor's tone was thick. "Because it tastes like medicine, boy. Just do it. Captain's orders."

Will glanced toward the helm and saw his father watching him. He stared for a moment as a flurry of unsettling thoughts ran through his brain, pasted a tight smile on his face, and raised the mug to his father in salute. "Cheers." He drank it down, starting a coughing fit as he nearly choked. The sailor laughed.

"There's a bit of rum in there. Thought you knew."

Gasping to catch his breath, Will stared into the empty cup. "And what else?"

"Plants and such. It's healthy enough, don't you worry. I haven't lost anyone to it yet."

"That's small comfort. Are you a doctor?"

"As close as you'll find on many a pirate ship. This is my own draught, it'll cure most anything."

Will felt his head floating as he tried to focus on Coltrane's face. "Really."

"Aye. You may want to have a bit of a lie down."

Will looked back toward his father suspiciously, his hand wobbling slightly as he pointed in that general direction. "Is it going to make me sleep?"

"It can't hurt."

"No." The younger man glared at his father again and turned to walk toward the stern with a swagger more suited to Jack Sparrow than a blacksmith. "No. I'll be fine."


Elizabeth stood at the rail, her hair blowing free and lit redly by a glorious post-storm sunset. The thought of Will made her sigh as she looked over at the island they had made anchor near. From this distance it was completely peaceful, lovely, green and lush.

"Are you sure I can't go along?"

"Not a good idea, miss. I'm thinkin' that Anamaria knows someone there, and Jack, well… he's Jack. There's no keeping him away."

Elizabeth nodded with some distraction. "I don't know what I could do, anyway. I just feel so useless right now." Gibbs dropped a hand on her shoulder and laughed.

"You've proved yourself a right sailor."

She smiled up at him, surprised but with a shy pride. "Thank you."

"It's the truth, Miss Swann."

The girl laughed and rolled her eyes. "I told you, Mr. Gibbs, that you could call me Elizabeth. Why is it that you pirates have such a hard time with proper names?"

"Ah, perhaps we're just used to hidin' the names we have."

"Perhaps." Elizabeth shook out her hair and pulled it back to a ponytail, tying it with a thin strip of leather. "Or perhaps you just like making things difficult."

"Difficult?"

She blinked at him, a teasing tone in her voice. "You know… breaking the rules. If you don't do as you're asked, then you're even more of a pirate, yes?"

Gibbs appeared to consider for a moment. "You may be right, Miss Swann. But if that's the case, those in glass houses ought'nt throw stones, as it says in the good book."

"Mr. Gibbs! Are you suggesting that I –"

"Mr. Gibbs." Jack's voice broke over their disagreement. "We're off."

"Aye, Cap'n." He shot a smile at the girl as he walked away.

She smiled after him and turned to Jack.

"Will we make it in time?"

He looked at her, his dark eyes less confident than they had appeared before the storm. "Depends on what 'in time' turns out to be." Seeing her expression change, he regretted his cavalier tone. "We'll do the best we can, love."

Elizabeth turned back to look out toward the island. "I hope that's enough." Abruptly her façade of calm dropped, and her shoulders began to shake. Jack exhaled as he looked at her, and put a gentle hand on her back.

"Listen, Lizzie. We'll just have to trust that your Will can keep his wits about him. Aye?"

She sniffed, once, straightened up. "Aye, Captain." Turning to look at him with tear-brightened eyes, she said, "Good luck."

He gave her a nod and walked away to meet Gibbs and Anamaria where they waited by the dinghy. Elizabeth took a deep, shuddery breath and followed behind to help lower them to the water.

Halfway between the Pearl and Kraji, Jack spoke out. "So, Ana." The dark pirate looked up at him through long lashes, her head bowed. "Are you going to tell me just what the story is?"

Anamaria waved the back of her hand at him dismissively. Gibbs rested the oars as he looked between them, shook his head and took a swig from his flask.

"I don't know what you're talkin' about, Captain."

Jack sighed and motioned for Gibbs to start rowing again. "Look, love. You know where the island is, and you were the one who steered us to this side of it. Seems clear enough to me."

Ana's eyes flashed at him, and Gibbs mumbled something under his breath as she answered. "It's a beach. Where else would ye have me anchor the Pearl?"

The captain lifted a long, elegant finger to point at her. "Yes, a beach that you just happened to know was here."

Exasperated, she rolled her eyes angrily. "Fine. I know the island. I been here before, is that enough of a confession for ye?"

Jack steepled his fingers together and stared at her. When he wanted to, Jack Sparrow could outstare a statue. "Well, if you don't want to tell me, I guess there's just Gibbs…"

"I'm telling nothing."

Jack nodded quietly, rummaged in his pocket and pulled out a small mirror. He began tapping it idly against the oar in Gibb's hand, pursing his lips to whistle.

Gibbs looked at him in abject panic. "No, Jack. Don't be makin' me tell the tale."

"Mr. Gibbs…"

"I'm tellin' ye, Jack, she only told me because she was drinkin'." He caught Ana's dark look and blustered on. "For all I know it was a load of nonsense. I mean, talk of her brother taking the chief's daughter, and the curse…" His eyes widened as Ana's lunged toward him in the small boat, stopped only by Jack's quick arm. "By the saints, woman. He forced me."

She shifted her attack to Jack, who caught her arm and twisted it behind her deftly, in a move he had surely used before to subdue his hot-tempered pilot.

"Now, love. Just tell us the tale, savvy?"

"Fine." She shook him loose angrily and gave Gibbs another dark glare. "It wasn't me brother. It was a shipmate… although he was more like a brother than any I ever had. We'd nearly run aground on this island in a storm, and once it blew over the captain sent us to get some wood and water. When we made shore, the chief came out of the jungle and said some nonsense words… but he managed to make it clear we were to follow."

"What did he say?"

"It wasn't so much what he was sayin' as the men with spears behind us."

"Ah. What happened?"

"They took us back to their village. And that's where the damn fool saw the chief's daughter, and insisted on takin' her with us." She touched her hand to her forehead. "It was only a month later that he started actin' strangely, and threw himself over the side in a storm." Her eyes were as sad as they were angry. "By then I'd learned a little of her talk, and she told me about the caged man."

"You took her back to her father?"

"No. She wouldn't have it. Once she'd had a taste of freedom from his orders, she wasn't going back."

Jack nodded, looking back toward the Pearl. "So there may be some trouble with him, then?"

Ana glanced nervously toward the shore. "Yer about to find out." Jack followed her look and saw a group of men wading out toward them; very tall, and armed with even longer spears.

"So it seems."