Finally some action! The rating has gone up a notch, to K plus, and we have no plans of stopping there. :winks:

Delila was lying on her back, staring up at the stars. She could make out most of the constellations, it was a clear night. The traced them with her finger. The big dipper, orion, big bear, she knew them all by heart. But that was not the names she knew them by. Jack had given her a book about the constellations shortly after she came aboard 'the Pearl', before he learned that she couldn't even read. But she hadn't minded. The book was filled with beautiful illustrations, and Delila had spent her time making up her own names and stories for each constellation. Jack had at last managed to find the time to teach her to read, but by then it'd been too late. The constellations were already claimed by her imagination, and no amount of reading or lecturing could change that.

"You should get some sleep." Jack shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. She turned against the fire, looking at him.

"I'm not tired." No answer. She sighed. The truth was that she couldn't sleep. The thought of no longer having Doll and Will in her life numbed her brain, making it difficult to think coherently. It was scary, how easily they'd manage to worm themselves into her life. Into her heart… Also, she felt foolish. Her reaction to their disappearance had been utterly embarrassing. What good was she to anyone if she couldn't even control her emotions?

"Delila…" Jack started. "No, Lijah."

She smiled, and scooted closer to her father.

"Well, as you may have noticed, you turned 18 a few days ago."

Delila rolled her eyes. "Of course I noticed!"

Jack smiled, waving his hand as if shooing her. "Yes, yes. Anyway, it still feels just yesterday you came to live with me on the Pearl…" he gazed into the fire, a look of melancholy in his eyes. "I had planned to give you this on your birthday, but, well, you didn't seem inclined to stay around for the surprise, so…" He put his hand in his pocket, searching around a bit, before he finally pulled out something thin and shimmering.

Delila leaned closer, and Jack dropped the object into her hand. She pulled it up into the light. It was a bracelet, adorned with tiny, winged creatures in a multitude of colours. Her eyes widened. "Butterflies…" she mumbled, watching the light play on the tiny figures.

"I know it's not much, it's not even pure silver." Jack was looking uncomfortable, fidgeting slightly in the sand. "The colours are fading, and I think it's missing a gem or two. Besides, you probably wanted a pretty dress or something…" his voice trailed off, and he gazed at the girl expectantly, waiting for a response to his actions.

Delila looked up at her father, and handed the bracelet back to him. A look of disappointment fluttered across his face, and then disappeared.

"Ah, it was a rather silly gift I suppose, who wants such a trinket anyway…" He was about to pocket the bracelet when Delila stopped him.

"Put it on for me?" She raised her right arm up, wriggling her hand. Jack undid the clasp and fastened it around her wrist. She wriggled her hand again. The bracelet made a tinkling sound every time she moved Delila smiled, and looked at her father.

"It was my mother's. She died when I was young, you know. Didn't have much to remember her by, only that trinket." He nodded towards the bracelet. "Dunno why I kept it. I guess I was hoping that some day a lass would come along and claim it for herself." He winked. "'s not like I could use it, it doesn't really go with my complexion."

Delila laughed out loud, the sound of her laughter mingling with the soft tinkling of the bracelet.

ooo

It was almost dawn when they found the village. Rolf had been driving the crew through the jungle for hours, and the men were exhausted, but determined. From a distance they could see an open area a little away from a group of simple huts. People were gathered there, talking and laughing… and they were all unarmed.

Rolf slowly, silently unsheated his weapon. He gave just a brief glance to see that it was loaded, and then returned his attention to the scene.

"Malory, Rowan, you two go around to the other side of the village. If you find the Turners, don't try and rescue them unless you are absolutely sure you won't be dis-"

"Malory ain't here, boss," the pirate name Rowan said. Rolf's eyes narrowed, but he didn't have time to say anything as the crowd of natives suddenly cheered.

"Nevermind," he muttered. "Looks like the party is coming our way…"

ooo

Doll kept close to her father, as she had promised him when they were pulled out from the prison-hut. They had tied his hands behind his back, but let her go free. The guard flanking her was tall and intimidating, with a spear as long as himself resting expertly in one hand. There was one on the other side of her father too.

They were marched through the small village and out into an open area. In the middle was a small platform-like hill, with a bamboo chair on it. Was there anything you couldn't make from bamboo? Doll wondered.

"Maybe they think we're gods and want to worship us," Doll said, but her optimism felt glued on.

One of the people – savages, Doll thought, a word she had picked up from her book – approached them, a long knife in his hand.

Somehow I doubt it," she heard her father whisper. She probably wasn't meant to hear it, but she did. "You see that opening over there?" he said a little louder, and Doll hoped the savages didn't understand English. She saw that the crowd were only gathered on two sides, for some reason leaving an open passage all the way to the edge of the jungle.

"Yes, Dad. But-"

"No buts. Do as we planned." Doll nodded silently, a treacherous tear falling down her pale cheek.

The guard on the other side pushed Will forward, until he stood in front of the man with the knife, next to the platform with the chair. Now Doll noticed a flat rock by its foot, of a strange, red colouring…

The savage raised the knife and yelled something guttural and nonsensical. The crowd replied with a loud, deafening cheer.

"Now, Doll!" Will hissed, muted by the din, but Doll knew what he meant. Quickly, she pulled from her bodice a dagger wrapped in a thin piece of cloth, which she had snatched from Lijah's cabin the day before. She had just felt that she needed something piratey to go on an adventure, and had really meant to give it back, but…

Shaking the thoughts off, she darted forward and cut the ropes holding her father's hands together. The moment he was free he yanked the spear out of the guard's hands.

"Run!"

Though she fought the instinct and the order with every ounce of her being, wild panic took over when Doll saw the crowd start to close in on her escape path. She fled, blindly, leaving her father to defend himself and hold the savages back.

We should never have left that awful house, she thought, tears streaming down her face as she ran, ran for her life towards the jungle, towards the beach and 'Freedom'. Better to rot there than die on this godforsaken island… oh, mother, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…

ooo

In an instant, chaos erupted in the small village. The minute Doll started her wild dash towards freedom, and Will attracted the attention of the savages, Rolf and the rest of the crew crashed out of the jungle, their fierce screams matching the anger of the savages' surprised outburst. Doll ran blindly trough the quickly gathering crowd, pushing aside people. She was nearly there; the edge of the trees was just within reach when she felt someone grab her around the waist. The figure was yelling something she couldn't understand, it was obviously in the language of the barbarians. She squirmed desperately, trying to break free, but the person holding her didn't budge. She could hear her father call her name, but everything else was a blur. In a moment of desperation she lifted the dagger, and plunged it into her captor with all the might she could muster, feeling it dig into flesh.

Delila's world was pain. White, hot, searing pain. You'd think that I'd gotten used to it by now…, she thought idly, fighting against the overwhelming sensation that always hit her when she got hurt. No time for a nap, lass. Better get a hold of yourself. She put her hand against the wound, struggling to focus on the person leaning over her. As she blinked the tears away, Doll's face slowly swam into view.

Rolf could not believe the scene playing out in front of him. There was just too much happening at once; his brain could not process it. Rolf's father had always told him that he was 'a bit on the slow side', which he'd pretty early figured out was just another way of saying 'stupid'. Truth was that Rolf junior was brighter than his father in many ways, but he was also the kind of person who didn't care much for quick thinking. He couldn't do much good without a plan. His main objective was getting the Turner-family out safe, and that was what he was going to focus on. Taking a deep breath, Rolf scanned the clearing. It seemed his targets had both been lost in the turmoil. When he finally found what he was looking for, his breath hitched in his throat.

"Captain…" He tried to shout, but it only came out as a whisper. Without another moment's delay, he sprinted towards his comrades.

This doesn't look good... Can they possibly get out of this one alive and - well, not unharmed, obviously.
And what is Malory doing, wherever he is?