AN: Told you I was going to update sooner didn't I? Evidently, no one decided to sacrifice me to the Hawaiian god of bad updaters, or something, and for that I am glad. Or maybe I just can't be tracked down…

A Witch's Daughter

Chapter Eight: The Plot Kicks The Writer Up The — In

The frozen bars pressed mercilessly into her back, making her shiver. The supposed heat of the Caribbean air could not reach her, and thus was less than able to warm her frozen body, much as she wished for it. The pirate wrapped her arms tighter about herself, eyes scanning the stained wall before her.

Catriona, I saw you. Her friend did not reply, like she hadn't given any indication of being alive since that sudden apparition had discontinued the mental conversation between them.

See you in Tortuga… Allanah shivered yet again; had that threat been intended for her? Her arms, if possible, tightened further, failing to repress her form's insistent shivering as she tried still to divert her thoughts from the events that had unfolded only a few hours before…

-!-!-

That mysterious ship that had attacked the Silver Chimera had sailed across the waves faster than Allanah could have comprehended, than she would have believed possible. And not long afterwards, an all-too-familiar vessel had risen from out of the darkness. But since when had the María Sangriento possessed the ability to travel at such a speed? Since when had anything been able to move as the craft and its crew had? The longboats seemed to have flown over the waves, appearing besides the ship as though by magic.

The crewmen were exactly like their boats; blurred images, grabbing and hurling her into the rowboat in a blink; relieving her of her weapons, binding her hands tightly. It seemed as though only twenty seconds (and she had counted) had passed before she was pulled roughly onto the wooden deck and ushered into the brig, along with other men she had not realized had accompanied her.

When the lock had snapped shut, the air seemed to relax, and suddenly she knew. These men had moved so swiftly because of unnatural means. But now…now that the spell was over, everything seemed to return to its proper speed.

Light footsteps sounded on the stairs; a graceful figure descended, green skirts flowing elegantly from the hips. Her heart had frozen; her breath had caught.

Catriona had betrayed them. Then she saw the eyes.

Like Catriona's, these eyes, too, were an unnatural colour. But instead of the deep blue that hovered between sapphire and amethyst, what she saw were irises a green so pale and intense it was like staring into emerald fire. Those eyes widened before narrowing in anger, and before she knew it, Allanah was pressed against the bars unwillingly whilst the stranger placed slim fingers under her chin, looking down at her. She, like her doppelganger, was unerringly beautiful, only more so; her lips seemed to naturally be crimson, as though she'd just sipped fine French wine a moment before, and they were pressed into a line as she continued her scrutiny.

They suddenly parted in a pleasant smile that sent a shiver down her spine. "But of course," she spoke, looking deep into her eyes, "there are more…" The soft touch was wrong; how could a woman so malevolent appear so gentle? She seemed to be a pleasant, kind female; there was nothing about her aura that was malicious or spiteful, and yet Allanah knew something was hidden beneath the surface…

It's like the ocean, she realized suddenly. Shark-infested waters. There seemed to be only peace and calm, but you know that something perilous lurked beneath. And if you look closely, you can see the fins.

"Captain Lozano," she'd said, and a man emerged from the shadows. A man whose dark mane hung loosely around his shoulders stepped closer, black eyes looking at her.

"You must be Allanah Dove," he said pleasantly, but beneath the accent hung a menace. "Yes, your dear Catriona told me quite a bit about you before she was able to pick the lock of her precious captain's chains." His hand moved to the scar that spoiled his otherwise fetching face. "Has she decided to go down with that piece of rotting driftwood?"

No. Allanah recalled all too clearly screaming her companion's name as she'd choked on the toxic fumes. And then Gervaise had wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her from the raging inferno.

"Ah, but that's what you'd like to hear, isn't it, Lozano?" The Frenchman's voice materialized behind her. "I know you've been after her since the last little run-in."

"Ah, Monsieur Avarice," the Spaniard drawled, sounding less than enthused. "What a pleasure…"

"The pleasure is all mine, Capitaine Lozano," he replied, a sneer colouring his voice.

"Señor Lozano," the angelic demon said softly, "perhaps you can discover the whereabouts of Miss Woodcraft whilst I reassure her friend?"

"With great pleasure, Señorita." Allanah was thrown back against the wall as Lozano unlocked the door, unable to lift a finger, watching helplessly the Spaniard grabbing the Frenchman's collar and pulling him out. A pistol appeared against the grey-eyed man's throat as the bounty hunter smiled cruelly. "Perhaps we should move this along, my friend? My patience is very limited…" The keys were tossed to this double-faced impostor, who offered her a pale hand as she stepped within the prison. The prisoners in the opposite cell continued to stare at the two women, but witnesses were the last of her worries.

She'd knocked the proffered hand aside, but then those cool fingers were once again gripping her face. "Don't be so stubborn, you stupid girl," she hissed, full lips curled into a snarl. "We both know that's not going to help either of you."

"Either of us?"

"Why, you and Catriona, of course." The expensive skirts rustled as she knelt before her. "If you know where she is, Allanah, then you'd best tell me."

"And why should I trust you?" She snapped back. The woman's eyes widened.

"Surely you don't believe I'll harm my own daughter?!"

Her own daughter…? She didn't believe that for a moment. "Look, bitch, if I knew where Catriona was I would not be telling you, mainly because I'll be right there with her!"

Something shifted in those green eyes, once so warm, so gentle, so innocent, turning to stone, deprived of all emotion. Again, that was an ability that Catriona also possessed, and the realization turned her stomach to lead, cutting off her oxygen as, for the longest second, she struggled for breath. "How touching…" she sneered, façade immediately dropping. She released Allanah from her grip, turning on her heel and slamming the door shut. As the key turned, she looked down at her once again. "Don't think, even for an instance, Allanah, that Catriona would choose you over me." Her shoes carried her up the short staircase. "Not for a moment."

As soon as she'd disappeared, Allanah had sought out her friend. What a mistake that proved to be.

-!-!-

Allanah, I could not be more wrong about you; you are a vry talented witch after all. I could not be more thankful to you. The barbed compliment mocked her, ringing in her ears as that maliciously melodious voice served to remind her of her betrayal. Fittingly, Allanah could hear the crash of thunder from the heavens above. It seemed the very skies reviled her for her treachery.

Well done, Allanah. She thought bitterly, bile rising in her throat as she was forced to lie on her front by the sudden crash of the incensed waves. It seemed as though the very gods of the ocean themselves despised her and her idiocy. You've just handed your best friend over to a monster.

But it seemed as though Neptune and his subjects were not through with their torment. Another of the sea's furious swells jerked her towards the bars, smashing her head excruciatingly against the unyielding pitiless metal. Words and images flashed before her eye: flickering lanterns, raucous laughter, meaningless brawls, preying females, sly thieving pickpockets…

Tortuga.

It was her only option. And, as her mind finally gave in to the merciful darkness of nothingness, it had better work out better than last time.

-!-

"For the love of God, Sparrow!" he yelled over the storm's cries. "Get out here!" The rain flew mercilessly into his eyes as he pounded on the locked door. To his relief, it finally swung open.

But not upon the sight he wished to see. Instead of the arrogant pirate captain Jack Sparrow, what instead greeted his eyes was the tousled-haired, bright-eyed figure of Catriona hastily buttoning up what he recognised to be one of the captain's shirts. "What's goin' on?" she demanded. (He couldn't fail to notice how irritated she sounded.) The roaring wind evidently cut through the flimsy material of the shirt, making her visibly shiver.

"A bloody storm!" He shouted over the unceasing howling of the wind. "We need all the help we can get, and we need the captain —"

"Awake?" she inquired.

"That would help!"

He didn't like the wicked grin that suddenly spread upon her lips. He wasn't fond of the way her face lit with mischief. "Aye, gladly." The door was shut all too quickly for his liking.

-!-!-

"Bloody evil wench," Jack muttered darkly as he directed the Pearl three points west. He turned his gaze up to the mainsail the better to direct his glare at the object of his cursing. "She better not lose me coat…" A violent wave crashed into the hull of the already damaged ship, creeping upon the deck and all the poor souls manning it. A small part of him felt a twinge of twisted satisfaction as he saw the fair-haired figure jerk with the unanticipated movement.

"Oy, Jack!"

Without turning, he addressed the 'old friend' (although he doubted very much the man in question was to retain that status much longer if he continued at the rate he was going) that was the cause of all this annoyance. "Aye, Bill?"

"Don't you think she should come down now?!"

"Who?" he innocently inquired as his grip tightened on the smooth wheel. A few more minutes, Pearl, just hang in there a few more…

"You know bloody hell who I mean!" Why did all the Turners get so sensitive and possessive when it came to the welfare flaxen-haired females?

Lack of sleep made Captain Jack Sparrow very irritable without the stress of spoon-butchered cabins to contend with (although frankly, he had very little experience with the latter). "William," he chastised, "weren't it ye yourself that said we needed every hand available?"

"Jack, I really doubt that she can 'old on much longer, with the fight from earlier an' —"

"So where is this fierce pirate lass I've heard tell so much of since your return from the grave, eh Bill?" It was cruel, but Jack wasn't in a particularly kind mood, to put it delicately.

But what Bill was saying was true. Even from this distance, Jack could see that she seemed to favour one hand more than the other, could see that one leg was stronger whilst the other evidently ached. But he had never been a very compassionate person towards complete strangers, and saw no reason to start now.

Especially temperamental, bed-shredding, cabin-wrecking ones.

But it seemed that Catriona had plenty of labour for the night. She started climbing down, progress slow as she moved in obvious agony. And a very helpful crewmember had abandoned hauling the ropes in order to help the weakened pirate, supporting her in a gentlemanly manner as he guided her towards the stairs. He saw her pause, turning to look back up at the drizzling sky, head turned up towards the cleansing liquid. And then she had vanished, her assistant remaining loyally by her side as he guided her to shelter, and the few remaining minutes of the manning of the Pearl passed by with little incident (hurricanes and tides hell-bent on drowning the Pearl aside).

After the tight knots of the ropes and the sails were to his satisfaction, Jack gratefully returned to his cabin, content to spend the few hours remaining until dawn in a deep slumber away from the harsh punishments of nature.

-!-

"Good Lord…" she gasped as she saw the helpless figure all but fall down the steps. Rushing over to the younger girl, Elizabeth gripped tightly onto the other arm. "What on earth did Jack do to the poor girl?" she demanded of the dark-haired man accompanying her.

He snorted, shaking the water droplets from his cropped hair. "What the lass did to 'erself be the more appropriate question, Miss," he replied evenly. His hazel eyes looked down at the half-conscious female. "She all but fainted down the rigging."

"…Fainted?"

"Well, the wench did 'ave quite a hard night, losing her ship and crew and then forced to help out in a storm such as this…" he shook his head. "She's probably just tired, to be perfectly honest, Milady."

"Yes, you're probably right," the gentlewoman agreed, steering the awakening figure towards the cabin occupied by Will and herself. "All she needs is plenty of rest, and —"

"Wait," the figure protested. Catriona lifted her head with all the strength she could muster. "Do you have medicines…herbs?" She seemed to cling onto the dark-haired man in desperation.

"We 'ave a very small cabin full o' bandages and the like. It's our version of a hospital," the brunet replied, looking down at her. "But it's quite unpleasant; only thing you can rest on be an old table used for stitching up wounds, dismembering legs, and the like; smells of blood and whatever concoctions Cotton can come up with. Really, I personally wouldn't…"

"Take me to it." For the smallest of instances, Catriona had once again taken control. "Take me there and leave me be. 'S like ye said; I need ter rest on me own."

"Are you sure? I use a spare cabin no one ever checks as me room instead of sleeping with the rest of the crew; you're welcome to kip there," he offered. She shook her dripping head.

"The…hospital, ye called it?" she insisted. The man caught Elizabeth's eye; she merely shrugged.

"Let her go to it," was all she said. "At least then, if there's any fatal injuries she'll be cared for." Against his better judgement, the pirate nodded.

-!-!-

"Where is she?" Santiago demanded of the aggravating Frenchman.

"Pardon?" he replied innocently. The Spaniard slammed both his hands upon the desk.

"Do not test my patience, Avarice. Where is she?"

"Do you really expect me to be able to provide you with a legitimate answer to that?" Gervaise inquired good-naturedly.

Santiago's hands curled up into fists. "Very well," he replied in an almost even tone. "What happened to your ship?"

"Well, there we were, sailing to our 'eart's content, minding everybody's business, when some ship pulled up alongside our own and starts blasting it's little cannons at us," he replied quite truthfully.

"And the other ships you've commandeered?" he prodded, glad that at long last, he was finally making some progress.

"Well, they sailed right on ahead without us, and that's how I lost my newly-acquired fleet." And so, the tale drew to its close, leaving Lozano with no useful information whatsoever.

"And Woodcraft, why was she not on the ship?" When the grey-eyed man did not reply, he continued, "Was she on another of the ships?"

"Anything's possible," he remarked dryly.

"What is the name of the ship that attacked you?" he asked, resuming his interrogation.

"It escapes me." But Avarice was looking at the bounty hunter no longer, instead focusing on the snow maiden that had just entered the cabin.

"Perhaps, Mr Lozano, I should talk with this captain." A pause. "Alone."

"Of course, Madam, of course." He exited the cabin, but the annoying captain wasn't the focus of Avarice's attention.

"You do realize that by refusing to answer our questioning does not do Catriona any good?" she asked.

"Well, personally I think it better than to hand her over to certain death," he replied nonchalantly.

"I have employed Captain Lozano; he is now working for me," she informed him.

"Good for you."

There were a few moments of uncomfortable silence before the woman spoke again. "You were mutinied against, were you not?"

"Where did you get that idea from?" he asked, tone casual, but his suspicion grew.

"Well, it was an easy guess." She moved around the desk, so that she was standing opposite him. "There is no point withholding information of any kind, Avarice, when your very life is in danger."

"It would seem like that to the casual observer," he noted.

"You do not know her whereabouts; I understand that. However, I do."

"What, floating somewhere in the middle of the Caribbean Sea?"

"If you help me capture her, Avarice," she continued, "the reward will be most generous." When he did not reply, she fished into one of the drawers, drawing out a purse. "You can see I am a woman of some stature," she said. "You can guess I have access to wealth. Help me find her, and I shall give you enough gold to live a king's life a hundred times over."

"And that, of course, is by no means exaggerating."

"Captain," she said lowly. "I know for a fact that you live up to your namesake. And to be honest, you will not be betraying Catriona in any way."

"Is that so?" he inquired doubtfully, although his eyes gazed longingly at the purse.

"Catriona is my daughter. I have employed Lozano to find her for me so that I can be reunited with her, and have convinced him that she will die at his hand once I have used her for my own gain. But alas, that is not the case."

"Oh, really?" he asked doubtfully. Because if that were the case, why would she use wording such as 'capture'?

"Truly." The coins clinked as she slid the bribe over. "You're a pirate, Avarice. Your loyalties can be bought."

"Well," he smiled cruelly, "at this very moment, that does seem to be the case…"

-!-

Readers: Because I'm too lazy to reply to each and every reviewer individually, and because there are some people who read and DON'T review (or perhaps that's wishful thinking on my part), no matter how much I poke at the matter, I have decided to address everybody as a whole. So thanks for reading, you should be awarded a medal for getting this far, and if you DO review, I will very happily send out to each and every one that do HAPPY THOUGHTS, because in my twisted mind, that is somehow a reward. Let's hope I'm able to get the next two chapters up with less than three months between them, eh? Good luck to me…