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Chapter Three: Trust and the Traitor

"You're never going to get anything done if you just mope around like that."

Jack started, jerking around in his hammock only to find Anamaria in the doorway to his cabin. She had one hand on her hip and the other hand gripping the edge of the door.

"Oh, did I scare you?" she teased, a smirk curling her lips slightly.

"No," he grumbled. "I was just… thinking." He stared at her as she slowly strode closer to him.

"'bout what?" she asked, leaning against his nightstand. She looked at him intently, expecting a straight answer.

There was a slight pause, and he replied, "Everything."

"Everything, eh?" she answered, arching one of her eyebrows. "Anything in particular?"

"Why do you care?" he retorted, looking up at her. He sat halfway up in his hammock and stretched his arms, folding his hands behind his head wearily.

"I was just trying to help," she said, giving him an almost soft glare. She rubbed her shoulder as if his words had really hurt her.

"Hmm. You don't usually help me." He quickly added, "With personal problems, at least."

She sighed and looked him straight in the eye. "Well, today's your lucky day." After a moment's silence, she decided to speak up. "What do you think of that Zachary bloke?"

"Well," he began, lowering his arms, "as long as he knows… Who did it. I definitely don't care for him that much, but he's our only chance of knowing who the culprit was."

Anamaria settled herself on the edge of his hammock and twisted around to face him. "Are you sure he knows? He could be lying, after all. We've met our share of bloody traitors, we have."

He tried to shrug nonchalantly. "Why would someone lie about something as serious as death?"

"Well, think about Barbossa," she said, lowering her head slightly, "that bastard."

A stern look crossed his face, and he sat up completely. "I'd prefer not to."

"Neither would I," she agreed softly, and shifted a smidgen closer to him. There was then a long, thoughtful stillness between the two of them.

After another moment, Jack swung his legs over the side of his hammock and stood up slowly.

"Well," he said in a low tone, "it was nice having a talk… with you." He gave her shoulder a small squeeze and walked out, closing the door quietly behind him. He wasn't the least bit worried that she was in his cabin, alone.

She watched him go, her eyes glazed. She then shivered slightly, because she could still feel his touch on her shoulder. The way he had been startled yet pleased by her company made her wonder.

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Yes, we'll go there. And then maybe here.

Zachary sat at a desk in his dusty cabin that Jack had given him, scribbling arrows and circling cities and places on his map.

Aha, what about here? This is a good place to drag them to.

He grinned evilly to himself and dipped his quill into his small pot of dark red ink. He then sketched a loop around a large town called Valderik, known for its huge crowds.

His electric blue eyes glinted maliciously as he scanned the wide, yellowed paper that was peeling at the edges. After declaring that he was done, he wheeled around and almost let out a yelp.

Elizabeth was watching him with a concerned, almost sympathetic expression on her face. "Is there something wrong?"

"What? No," he replied, running a hand through his dark hair. He immediately put on a straight face. It seemed to work, because she was instantly relieved.

"Oh," she said, shuffling a little bit closer. "That's good. It's just that you were hunched over your desk, and I was wondering if you were having trouble with something." She ran her hand softly over the desk and frowned at the dust that settled on her fingertips.

"No, everything's fine," he said, glancing down at the map.

"What's that?" she asked quietly, pointing to the piece of paper and tilting her chin to emphasize her interest.

"Oh, It's just a map," he informed her and handed it to her. "Just for where we'll be going. We have to track… him… down."

She nodded and quickly surveyed it. She slowly gave it back to him and gave him a brief smile. "I just wanted to thank you. For what you're doing, I mean."

"Ah," he said, gazing at her, "of course. It's my pleasure." He then gave her that one smirk that tied her stomach into knots. She didn't know why, but for some reason, she felt relieved at the same time.