Disclaimer: see chapter 1

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Simon held up his coin, the beam of his torch reflecting a circle of gold on to the rocky walls of the cave. "No harm done," he said, looking pleased, and slipped the coin in his pocket.

Jack Sparrow looked furious, his fist clenched and his jaw tight, but as Simon came back towards us he made a visible effort to relax. He said nothing, merely leading the way back to the boats; and he said nothing as he rowed Toni and myself back to the ship.

Raising her eyebrows at me, Toni mouthed, "what's going on?" But I shook my head and followed Sparrow's example in keeping silent.

It was properly night – black, moonless night – by the time we had unloaded all the stuff, and Mil went straight to his bunk with a cheerful wave and a yawn. Simon sat in the cabin turning his gold coin in his fingers, and Sparrow watched him for a few moments before throwing his hands in the air with an exaggerated sigh and going up on deck. I wondered, briefly, whether to follow him but decided against it.

Toni brought us all mugs of hot chocolate, and sat down on the floor with her legs crossed.

"Well, we're done," she said.

"We've done the first bit," Jerry said. "Lots still to look at."

Simon flicked the coin in the air and caught it. "Did you put sugar in this, Tone?" he asked, peering at his drink.

"Just as usual," she said. "Why?"

"Doesn't taste of much, that's all." He frowned at the chocolate and shrugged. "Never mind. Tell you what, I'll be glad to get away from that mad sailor up there. Who's he to go telling us what we can and can't take?"

"There's something … something about him," said Jerry, slowly, "something I can't quite put my finger on. I was humouring him, a little, after the fight – but he didn't fight like a fencer. And those stories he tells, and the way he explained the skeleton in the cave. Even gave it a name. And sometimes there's something in his voice that makes me want to do what he says." He shrugged. "Reminds me of my headmaster at school, actually."

I burst out laughing. The idea of Jack Sparrow as a teacher was hysterically funny. Luckily, Toni saw it too and joined in, and we were all sniggering when the focus of the humour came down the stairs into the cabin.

"Glad you're havin' fun," he said. "Mr Murphy, there's something on deck I want you to see. You others, might as well follow."

"I'm fine, thanks." Simon did not look up.

Sparrow strode briskly across the cabin, took the mug of chocolate from Simon's hands, and then took his arm and forcibly dragged him back to the steps.

"Hey!" protested Simon, but he could not extricate himself from the pirate's grip.

We exchanged looks and followed them on deck.

Outside the night air was cool, and I wrapped my cardigan more closely around me. Sparrow had let go of Simon's arm, and was standing with his arms folded looking more severe than I'd ever seen him. Those dark eyes were fairly flashing with anger under the ever-present bandana. Simon's arms were folded too, and the two men faced each other.

"What?" Simon demanded. "What's so great you had to drag us all out here for?"

"Just wait," said Jack Sparrow. "The moon's comin' out."

Suddenly I understood, and as Toni and Jerry followed Simon's example and lifted their eyes upwards, I kept watching Simon.

And the moon came out. The clouds rolled aside, and the deck was bathed in silver light. The two men before us went from being human – Simon solid, a little paunchy, Sparrow slight and lean – to bone.

"So the moon …" Simon began, looking back at Sparrow and stopping in mid-sentence as he saw the skeletal apparition before him.

Toni screamed. Jerry said something indistinct that was probably a swear word.

"Shows us for what we really are," said Sparrow, gesturing with ivory fingers. Simon glanced down at himself, and his eyes in the skull's socket went wide.

Then he clattered to the deck in a pile of bones, in a dead faint.

"Well, that's int'resting," Jack Sparrow said. "Never seen that happen before."

"Never seen that happen before!" Jerry said, his voice rising on every syllable. "Never seen what, exactly?"

"A skeleton faint," Sparrow returned, in entirely reasonable tones. "Have you?"

Jerry's eyebrows shot up, and he snorted a short laugh. "I've never seen a skeleton do anything more than lie on the ground dead. That's what they normally do."

Standing up from bending over Simon, Sparrow turned sardonic eyes on us. "I'm cursed, mate. I told you that. Told the ladies that, soon as I met them."

"Cursed?" Toni managed, her voice a murmur.

"Cursed, love," Jack Sparrow confirmed. "As is your idiotic mate Simon, on account of how he wouldn't listen to me."

Jerry turned to me. "Becks, you don't seem surprised."

I shifted, and looked at the deck. "I knew. I came on deck last week, and …"

We were interrupted as Simon – or the pile of bones that was Simon – shifted and sat up. He rubbed his forehead with bony fingers and looked about him.

"Okay, what the hell happened?" he asked. "I am dreaming?"

"Unfortunately not, mate," said Sparrow, taking a seat on the cabin roof. "You've picked up a share in my curse, Murphy, and we now have a quandary."

"Take it off!" exclaimed Simon, springing to his feet, the rags of his clothes moving in the breeze. "Get rid of it!"

"It ain't as easy as that," Sparrow replied, examining the tips of his fingers. "See, if you want to break the curse, you need my help."

"So?"

"And I might not want to have the curse broken," said Sparrow.

We all looked at him, at the dreadlocks dangling over the skull-like face and the calm way he sat there.

"How?" I said, eventually. "Why? You said how you couldn't feel anything, not even your boat, not properly. How can you want to stay like this? Now's your chance, Mr Sparrow – get rid of the curse and help Simon too?"

He merely looked at me.

"Well?" asked Jerry. "Becks has a good point."

"Has it ever occurred to you," Sparrow said, "that I might not want to feel? Me crew's dead. My ship's gone. What have I got?"

"You have a boat," Simon retorted.

"Aye, and she's a lovely one," agreed Sparrow. "But she's not the Black Pearl. There isn't a ship that could replace my Pearl. And most days, I'd rather not remember that. I don't want to get rid of this curse, savvy?"

"What does this mean?" asked Simon, desperately.

Sparrow folded skinny arms and shrugged. "Means you can't be killed. Means you can't taste. Means you'll live forever. Means you'll never appreciate a lass again. Hopefully it means next time someone tells you not to do something, you'll listen to them."

"Oh, God," Simon said, and he sounded desperate.

"Come on," I said, reaching out and taking his cold, hard hand. "Let's go below decks. You'll look right again, and we can sit down and think this through."

I towed him down the stairs, with Jerry and Toni following, and as we passed from moonlight into shadow Simon became Simon again. He looked awful, pale and frightened, and he was turning the cursed coin in his hand.

"Why didn't that … why didn't he say anything?" he asked, as soon as we were in the cabin.

"He did try," said Jerry, who was nearly as pale as Simon. "But none of us believed him."

"I believed he wasn't lying," I said. "But I couldn't believe the truth. It's just …"

"It's not possible," Toni put in. "Things like this don't happen."

"But it has," Jerry finished. We fell silent.

The next hour or so passed very awkwardly. Simon brooded over the coin, while the rest of us tried to do a little work. But it was difficult, and I think we were all conscious of the presence above us on deck of Jack Sparrow.

Eventually I gave up trying to make notes and went to find Sparrow.

He was sitting right at the bow of the boat, gazing out to sea, but he turned as I came up behind him.

"How's the idiot doing?" he asked.

"Not well," I said. "Can't you do something?"

"He can't say I didn't warn him," Sparrow said. "Can he?"

"No, but surely you must have realised that he'd never have believed the stories about the curse," I returned. "We're scientists, Mr Sparrow. We don't tend to believe in the supernatural."

"Captain," he said. "Or Jack. Can't stand being called Mr Sparrow."

"All right, Jack, then," I said. "But we don't believe in curses." I paused, and qualified that statement. "At least, we didn't, until now."

"I didn't believe in 'em either," Sparrow pointed out. "I went after that gold firmly believin' that the tales that it existed were true, but that the curse wasn't." He shrugged. "And I still believed that until I finally found the Pearl again, ten years later."

"So," I pressed, "can't you do anything?"

"Does he want me to break the curse?" Sparrow asked, looking directly at me. As before, his eyes deep in the skull of his face were very much human.

"I don't know," I said. "But I want you to break it for him. I know you and Simon don't get on. He doesn't like you."

"I don't like him much," Sparrow answered.

"But nevertheless," I went on, "he's a friend and a colleague, and though he can often be a total prat he's a decent man. You chose this. He didn't."

Sparrow said nothing, and looked away from me.

At that point I was not sure what to do. How long, or how much, to press Sparrow. It was easy to forget that despite his slurred speech and affected gestures, the man had been a clever and dangerous pirate once upon a time.

I stuck my hands in my pockets, and turned to go.

"Wait."

I paused.

"I must be daft," Jack Sparrow said, "but then I've always been accused of being so. I'll do it."

"Thank you," I said. "Really. Thank you."

He returned to watching the water. "I can always curse meself afterwards. Again. Go and get Murphy, and we'll do it rightaway."

I offered him a grateful smile, though he wasn't watching, and hurried below decks.