16- Magical Mayhem
Jack propped himself up on one elbow and watched Rowan dress. Once again she wore these tight black clothes that looked so sexy on her, yet he doubted she was wearing them for that reason. Then she quickly plaited her unruly red wine mane in two tight braids and wrapped a black bandana around her head so that not a single wisp of hair could fall into her eyes. Talking about her eyes- she'd applied black khol to them, which intensified her emerald green look and gave it a mysterious, even dangerous impression.
"Dressed to kill for the Commodore, huh?"
"What d'ye mean?" She snarled warily.
"Ye're taking this fight with Norrington really seriously, aren't ye?"
"Listen Jack, if this is gonna be an attempt to talk it out of me then…"
"No, no that's alright with me. Go and give him a good beating." Jack interjected at once since it wouldn't make any sense to try and protect her from the danger she was seeking. Also, she could protect herself well enough. She'd almost managed to beat him in that practice bout- well, probably she would have beaten him indeed if she hadn't had scruples… he preferred to call that practical thinking of a wantonly mind.
"Oh, so I've got yer blessing, Captain Sparrow?" Rowan sounded ironic yet that was only to hide her surprise; she had expected having to argue with him about that.
"Well, I know you can handle him."
"Ta." She had to turn away from him, feeling incredibly flattered. The blood rushed to her head and she knew she was blushing. No need for him to see that. Feigning concentration she bent over the map of Jamaica when she noticed Jack still watching her. She looked up and shot him a confused glance. "What're ye staring at me for?"
"Hmmm… I like the way ye look, luv."
That wasn't fair. This was going to be a hard day but he was lolling about her bed, purring like a big, content tomcat, stretching his body in a lazy and at the same time very lascivious way… well, she wasn't proof against his looks either.
"Stop that!" She said, nervously running her fingers through her hair. "Get up, get dressed. Damned, I have a ship and a crew to take care of but I can't steer the Jewel through all these shallows and reefs offshore Jamaica when I know there's a naked and… um, quite handsome pirate lying in my bed, savvy."
"Only quite handsome?" He raised a brow.
"Are ye fishing for compliments, Captain Sparrow?"
Rowan was about to shoo him out of bed when he got hold of her plaits. "Nah, fishing for a little kiss..."
Thus he kissed her; it was a sweat kiss full of emotions, searching for and giving reassurance. After a while Jack broke it, a teasing smile on his lips as his hand trailed down her spine and his fingers pinched her bottom. "Hey, ye've got a ship to take for," He reminded her cheekily yet his eyes were dark and thoughtful when they locked with hers; he lowered his voice. "Anyway, whatever ye do, don't do anything stupid, savvy?"
Though Rowan felt choked with emotions she ignored the swarm of butterflies having a party in her stomach and decided to play it down by tugging his beard instead. "Ah, don't worry. Ye won't get rid off me that easily."
No, there was no reason to worry, Jack was sure. Actually he almost felt sorry for Commodore James Norrington though they were definitely not friends at all. The one was a fine English gentleman, stiff to the bones, very conscious of his duties in serving the King of England, really despising all pirates- and the other one was a hated, infamous pirate captain with no duties but his own. Yet Norrington had given him a day's head start once, at a time when he wasn't manipulated and brainwashed by Ratbone. Anyway, after all's said and done the fine English gentleman was still in his blood, therefore he was rather predictable in a fight but Rowan wasn't. She was a real bitch when it came down to fighting, using more naughty tricks than he could ever think of and she truly had a very unique footwork. Norrington could never keep up with her- well, except in a fair fight following all rules of engagement- but who wants to fight fair when the thrill was not fighting fair?
Almost invisible the two dark pirate ships melted into the moonless night since Rowan had given order to extinguish all lanterns except one aboard the Jewel Star, and that order had also been signalled to the Black Pearl. Therefore they passed Port Royal unseen, sailing on an opportune current that would led them straight to their destined anchoring place, somewhere between Great Goat Island and the Hellshire Hills.
Rowan stood at the helm and tried to concentrate on steering her ship, but no matter how hard she tried, her thoughts kept wandering off down diverse paths. She thought about the things to come and Santiago's discouraging behaviour, hoping that he'd just been tired. What would happen if he couldn't conquer Anirvan alias Ratbone- would all be lost, then? She shuddered, refusing to believe so. No, that can't be. I've stopped Nirrti once before even without Santiago's help and after all there's still Marris... but what was Marris' part in all that? Santiago has always regarded him as an unimportant appendage of mine and now he suddenly seems to play an important part in a game to which only the Spaniard knows the rules- or why could he suddenly hear Santiago's voice in his head as if being mentally connected? Well, he doesn't have a clue and blames it on the reindeer bones but I really wonder why these reindeer bones had never mattered before? What's Santiago up to?
These were the things Rowan thought about but most of all she thought about Jack Sparrow. She'd often wondered whether it was more than just pure lust they shared, remembering how wantonly her body always reacted to his. Tonight had been different though- she'd never felt so utterly complete in anyone else's arms before, never so fully accepted even with all her rough edges. He made her feel wanted and desirable for just being herself, and he'd just proved that he also believed in her, trusted her. No arguments about her big-mouthed announcement that Norrington would be her issue, he'd only asked her not to do anything stupid. Thinking about that gave her new heart and she felt confident that they'd manage it, with or without Santiago. After all's said and done there was still Jack's knack to talk himself out of just every situation, somehow.
Meanwhile, Jack had gotten up and was about to stroll around Jewel when suddenly a paw came down upon his shoulder and he was turned around to face Rashid. Smiling broadly the Indian pressed a mug of tea into his hands.
"Good see ye, now make useful. Bring tea to young Turner whelp, aye. Me I have other things to do."
Being asked so nicely it was hard to reject his plea and Jack had wanted to look in on Will anyway. And there was no denying that Rashid was the absolute chief of the galley and of everything that concerns supplying the crew. No one was allowed to contradict his orders and he could be very domineering in defending his opinion. Therefore it would have been quite difficult even for Jack to talk himself out of that situation if he'd chosen to reject Rashid's order and probably he would have met his match. Fortunately he didn't know because otherwise he would have given it a try. So he just took the mug in his hands and replied to the Indians smile with a golden grin of his own before heading to the cabin where Will was accommodated.
The door was slightly ajar so Jack could hear that Will was obviously awake- apparently the whelp already felt well enough to argue with M'leh about why he had to stay in bed when Elisabeth was in danger. Jack pushed the door open and staggered in.
"'ello whelp, good to know ye're feeling better."
"Jack!" Will tried to sit up but cringed in pain.
"Young Master Turner thinks he's fine and wants to go 'n save his woman right now." M'leh complained while trying to keep his charge in bed.
"Ah, he tends to be a little rash sometimes." Jack sat down next to Will and handed him the mug. "Well, mate, why don't ye just drink yer tea and relax? There's nothing ye can do at the moment and besides, ye'd only scare yer bonnie lass the way ye look right now..."
"Relax? You've got a nerve! Elisabeth is in deadly danger, we must go and save her!" Will's hand trembled so violently with agitation that he almost spilled his tea.
Jack rolled his eyes. "Aye. But unless you can swim faster than the Jewel sails- very unlikely you manage more than 14 knots- ye can just as well stay in bed and recover, savvy?"
"Says the man who once tried to trade my life for a ship. Bah, you don't know anything about love, you don't care about people. You only care for yourself."
Jack was sure he didn't deserve that; that wasn't fair and most of all it was wrong. He wasn't that selfish, he just wasn't blindly trusting. He wasn't insensitive either but cautious, and cramming his feelings in the backmost corner of his mind didn't mean he had none- he only hid them well. Nevertheless he played it down now like he usually did, snapping. "And you don't know anything about ships, lad."
Perhaps that hadn't been the right answer to calm down an injured and deeply worried young man like Will Turner. He sat up with a start now and glared angrily at the pirate. "That's nothing to be proud of."
"Sshh. Lay down again." Jack pushed him back in the pillows. " There's no need to fret and waste yer strength."
"But I've got to save Elisabeth and since you're not willing to help me..."
"Never said that."
"Then let me go."
Jack sighed. "Boy, we've been through that before. Where d'ye wanna go? We're at sea. Ye can't swim faster than a ship sails let alone in the state yer in. Ye'd probably collapse before reaching the main deck so ye won't be much use anyway. Stay in bed, drink yer tea and don't even think about doing something incredibly stupid, savvy?"
Will shot him a wary look. "What about Elisabeth?"
"Hey, ye've forgotten one very important thing, mate." The pirate pointed his index finger at Will's chest and smirked. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."
"Ah," the younger man grimaced in frustration, "how could I forget that."
"Well, ye've been badly wounded, maybe that's why. But don't worry, I've got everything under control so I'll bring yer bonnie lass back to ye."
"You swear?"
"Aye- ye have me word, mate."
"The word of a pirate…" Will didn't seem too impressed. Though he knew that deep in his pirate heart Jack was a good man, it was hard to trust him when it came down to his beloved wife. He sat up once more, clutching Jack's arm. "Once you've asked me how far I'd go to save Elisabeth and I've answered I'd die for her, do you remember?"
"Aye. But since ye haven't died for her then there's no reason to die for her now, savvy?"
Somehow this conversation was tiresome. Apparently Will was keen to prove his courage- which no one doubted- but he only proved he was being a stubborn fool. Perhaps he had had something to prove because by choosing him Elisabeth had married far beneath her rank and he wanted to compensate that by protecting her with his life even if it was needless to risk his life.
"You don't care about Elisabeth…" Will insists defiantly but luckily- at least for Jack- the tea began to show its effects on him. His lids felt heavy so that he could barely keep his eyes open. "…I have to save her…"
"You have to sleep now." Jack grinned, when he saw that the young man had actually fallen asleep. That was good. Will could be very demanding sometimes. He got up and glanced at M'leh. "Keep a sharp eye on him. Don't let him do anything heroic yet incredibly stupid."
Suddenly the rattle of the anchor-chain was to be heard therefore he didn't wait for M'leh's replied but just patted his shoulder briefly before rushing on deck.
Though Jack definitely loved being at sea, the endless horizon ahead, reaching a new shore also held great attractions to him A glow at eastern the horizon was already announcing a new day, painting the nearby coast with warm, golden colours, but a few fading stars were still in the sky. The air smelled of dry earth mixed with the salty taste of the sea and somewhere in the distance a rooster greeted the morning with his crow. Other birds joined in, singing, chirping or croaking, wings where spread to roam the sky, and from the Black Pearl Parrot answered them with a joyful, "Land ahoy! All hands on deck!"
Rowan had chosen their anchoring place well. The rocks of Great Goat Island hid the pirate ships from any unfriendly eyes out to sea, and the landward guns were run out as a precaution. She gave orders to double the watch, reminding her crew once again not to shout but remain silent, when Parrot croaked: "Yo ho! Silence is golden!"
"'n ye're dead soon if ye don't shut up." She hissed, looking around for something to throw at Parrot.
"Fancy poultry for breakfast, luv?" Jack teased her.
Before she could answer that he should have a better control of his crewmembers, Santiago appeared on deck. He looked much better today, refreshed and full of energy, and his complexion had lost the pale grey tone. Beckoning Jack and Rowan over to him he informed them about his plans.
"I thought about it and came to the conclusion that the chalice might be the key. If I manage to transform its evil powers and free all enslaved souls…"
"Wait, ye wanna go to Port Royal and nick the chalice from under the eyes of Ratbone and the whole Royal Navy?" Jack cut him short but it wasn't obvious whether he was impressed or appalled by Santiago's plan.
Santiago rolled his eyes. "Why do you never hear me out? I never said I'm gonna 'nick' the Chalice of Doom; I just want to transform its power so Anirvan can't raise an army of grey-clad marionettes against us."
"But ye don't wanna go there alone, d'ye?" Rowan interjected.
"Well, my dear girl, you surely have many qualities but dematerializing yourself is definitely none of them, therefore I will indeed go there on my own. It would be far too dangerous for you."
Though Rowan pulled a face she kept her thoughts to herself. She couldn't forget the exhausted impression Santiago gave yesterday and even if she didn't know a thing about magic she knew very well that he had been so worn out because of using magic.
Santiago stroked her cheek. "Don't worry. A short distance teleport across land is far less demanding than a long distance travel across the sea while focusing my mind on a target in motion."
"Good to know."
"Yep. And because you don't know anything about magic you had better stay aboard until I'm back. ¿Estamos?"
"Si." Rowan replied, but as soon as Santiago walked down the companionway to prepare for his mysterious way of travelling through time and space unseen, she gazed at Jack and their eyes locked, both having the same idea.
"Well, he didn't say we have to stay aboard, he just said we better stay aboard, aye?"
"Aye." Jack agreed and flashed her a broad, golden grin.
Rowan flung her arms around his neck. Nibbling at his ears she whispered. "Though I could think of many naughty ways to spent this day 'til Santiago returns from his 'mission' we could as well use the time to… um, let's say check the surroundings."
"Exactly what I have in mind, luv."
"How far is it to that cave?"
"'Bout a five mile walk through the hills." His smile faded a bit, especially when he mentioned that they had to walk there. Though he liked being ashore sometimes, he preferred to stumble from one tavern to the next then, having a drink or many more, enjoying the company of doxies… but taking a walk in the countryside had never been his favourite pastime.
"Hmm, what d'ye say? We check the surroundings of that cave and see if there's any chance to get Elisabeth out there so we might end up with two trump cards in our hands instead of only one- provided that Santiago's able to carry out his part, of course."
Jack opened his arms in one of his big gestures. "Ah, that's my woman."
-
Port Royal had once been called the wickedest city on earth; it had been a den of sin and vice, and a safe harbour for pirates- or, more accurately, Privateers. Recruited in Tortuga and vested with Letters of Marque they had become, sort of, Port Royal's Private Navy. Their ships had protected the harbour and it had been their military base for attacks on Spanish ships, and the King of England had been kindly disposed towards them. Now, a sign at Gallows Point read 'Pirates ye be warned' and the bones of three executed men made it unmistakably clear that things had changed.
Santiago snorted contemptuously- wasn't it ironic? The formerly welcome ally had fallen in disgrace because England wasn't at war with Spain anymore- at least not at the moment- and at once it was forgotten that Port Royal owed its prosperity to the pirates. The town wouldn't have boomed if the Privateers hadn't spent their share of the booty in the numerous taverns and brothels here, thus attracting many merchants or craftsmen to set up shops.
Yet most ironic was that one of the greatest villains of that time, the infamous Henry Morgan, had been knighted and appointed as Lieutenant Governor. He himself had signed many death warrants to solve Port Royal's pirate problem, and it was only after his death four years ago that the rapid advance of an ambitious officer called James Norrington had started. Santiago would have loved to see this strange couple working hand in hand, knowing that Norrington despised all pirates… But of course a pirate was only a pirate without the Letter of Marque, so no matter what dreadful things Morgan had done as a Privateer, he'd done it in the name of the Crown, therefore Norrington might have regarded him as a nobleman.
Bah- being knighted can't cover up the fact that he was anything but noble. He was a cruel man and helping Jack to sign up with him on his Panama trip was a horrible mistake. I wish I could turn back time…
Today Port Royal lacked some of its earlier charm since rich plantation owners set the tone. All the freethinkers and artists that had come to Port Royal in the wake of the pirates, creating the town's very special atmosphere, had left. The shabbiest drinking holes had been closed, many whores were cast out of town or sold into slavery- a very lucrative trade nowadays. While whoring was considered immoral enslaving or working people to death was an honest form of commerce. Whoever felt guilty about that could go to one of the many churches and unburden his conscience. Now, Port Royal resembled any English harbour town where poor people were oppressed while the rich wore the latest fashion from London.
Santiago surely didn't mind the lack of taverns or brothels but he missed the creative and open-minded folks Port Royal was also famous for. But he wasn't here for fun. As soon as he sent his mind roaming the town he could sense the Chalice of Doom. Any magically unskilled soul wouldn't have noticed what he saw in his mind's eye. Whirling clouds of impenetrable blackness lingered above the town that had its source in a plain golden goblet. It was calling for souls but the call was still feeble yet, almost inaudible during the day. At night, especially in a moonless night like the one to come, it would call out louder and many would follow its call lured by the chalice like moths to a flame. Santiago was here to stop that, to transform the magical power of the Chalice and release all the enslaved souls
Covered in a cloak of invisibility he headed towards the mansion on the hill overlooking the harbour. Of course he could have teleported himself there but that would have been like shouting Hello, I'm here to Anirvan since any magician could clearly sense the presence of another and the more that one used his magical skills the more he risked detection. Therefore a teleport right into the lion's den would have been far more conspicuous than just covering up with invisibility, which also demanded less energy.
No one noticed Santiago creeping through the house and the wing of the building he headed for wasn't very crowded anyway. Finally he reached the room where the Chalice was hidden. The door was locked- as he had expected- but he hadn't lived among swashbucklers and scallywags for nothing. Every street urchin knew how to pick a lock, and while fiddling around with his picklock he remembered little Jack Sparrow showing him how to use it.
"No, no, no- it'll never work that way." Jack shouted impatiently, taking the picklock off my hands. "Ye have to feel it, see." The door snapped open and I felt like a clumsy old man. That boy could easily unlock almost every door and he seemed to be quite content that there was something he could teach me. Well, at least he'd enjoyed that much more than our Latin lessons- no need to fear for my well hidden and alleged safely locked magical books since he couldn't read them anyway…
Now get a grip on yourself. It's not the right time to dwell in memories, he told himselfSantiago concentrated on the lock again and soon the door sprang open. It was almost too easy. Then he sensed that there was indeed a protection charm but only to alert Anirvan in case of any magical attempt to enter the room. Apparently he hadn't expected someone to simply pick the lock.
Santiago didn't need to search for long for the Chalice of Doom since he could hear its call clearly now; it came from a shabby looking cupboard. He opened it and saw- to put it in Jack's words- a simple golden wine mug. It really didn't look spectacular but he knew that there was much more to it than meets the eye. That plain goblet was a remarkable and very evil magical item. He reached for it, noticing at once its eager wish to enslave all souls that came close enough. Now he knew why Anirvan hadn't taken precautions to keep thieves away- the Chalice would have swallowed their souls as soon as they'd laid hands on it. But with Santiago it had no chance. He definitely had the stronger willpower and he was the one who preferred to set up the rules. Using his very own magical skills he forced the Chalice of Doom to literally spit out the souls it had enslaved.
The Chalice shrieked in protest, almost sounding like a wounded animal.
"Ah, shut up." Santiago cursed when suddenly someone tsked. He turned around, not surprised to see Anirvan watching him from an armchair. The magician was clad in the same charcoal-grey brocade coat Rowan had mentioned.
"Well, well the Spaniard. I'm quite pleased to meet you." Anirvan rose from the chair and came to greet Santiago, acting like a fine English nobleman who invited an old friend for tea. He also looked like a fine English nobleman- that might have helped him to win Norrington. His skin was pale, untouched by the Caribbean sun, and he wore the latest fashion from London except for his brocade coat. Though fabric, cut and colour were rather trendy, the embroidered symbols just looked ridiculous. Obviously he badly needed pointing out he was a magician.
"You appear to be denying your origins, Anirvan."
The magician winced scarcely noticeably- it had been a long time since someone called him by his real name- and he was caught totally unawares when Santiago took his outstretched hand. That hadn't been his intention. Actually he'd only wanted to demand the Chalice of Doom back.
Santiago knew that it was never wise to shake hands with another magician, nevertheless he did and it was very interesting. For an instant Anirvan had to reveal his real face, that of the handsome Indian lad he'd once been, but then the vision changed and he got a brief glimpse on what had become of the Indian lad… he saw blue skin and fangs.
"Don't push it too far, Spaniard." Anirvan hissed, not in the mood to pretend to be polite anymore. "Associating with pirates has definitely not improved your manners. Now, would you please be so kind and hand over the chalice immediately."
Santiago just shrugged, doing him that favour. Smirking he watched the other magician caress its golden form until he suddenly noticed that there was something wrong with it.
"What have you done?"
Does he really expect me to answer that?
"It's almost empty!"
Aye, actually that was my intention…I only wish I could have freed all souls…
"You bloody bastard have manipulated my chalice!"
"Now then! Where are your good manners?"
Anirvan snorted and shot the Spaniard a dangerous glance. "Your arrogance will wear off soon enough."
Somehow Santiago doubted that. It surprised him that Anirvan couldn't undo the transformation and break the spell he had cast upon the chalice. He seemed to be much stronger when they 'met' first, fighting a mental battle. Then it stuck him that that had been at night and Anirvan had once eaten a human brain to become a Rakshasa, a night demon, Could it be that he lacked strength during the day? Santiago wondered.
"See!" Anirvan projected an illusion in the room showing Jack and Rowan walking around the Hellshire Hills. "My loyal servant Norrington is already on the way to kill them."
The problem with illusions was that you never knew whether they represented reality or something that might happen and sometimes it won't happen at all. Well, it's very likely that Jack and Rowan have ignored my advice to stay aboard but that doesn't necessarily mean they're in deadly danger. Stupid kids- why do they never do what I tell them? Slightly annoyed Santiago whisked the illusion away and Anirvan growled.
Growled? Santiago's eyes widened. Anirvan might lack strong magical powers at day but he definitely had very impressive fangs… now snapping at him. He jumped aside, trying to avoid four blue-skinned arms and hands with cut-throat razor claws. It was time for a retreat before ending up as demon lunch. He decided for the good old cat-and-mouse game, making Rakshasa chase him all across Jamaica and through various dimensions in the hope of playing with him until he tires- or gets hungrier- but at least it would distract him from Jack and Rowan.
-
The Hellshire Hills were a totally uninhabited peninsula southwest of Port Royal. There were white sand beaches and salt ponds but the upland region was made of rough limestone hills covered with dry forest, thorny scrub and cactus. The porous rocks were pitted with sinkholes in which you could easily break through into one of the many caves that terrain was undermined with. Some of the caves had been used for ceremonial purposes by the Tainos before the first Spaniards had come and wiped them out.
The sun was almost at its zenith, burning hot from a blue Caribbean sky, and the air was filled with the monotone cheep of cicadas, when Jack wished once more that they had gone by boat. The way seemed to be endless; for each hill they climbed a new one had appeared, doubling the estimated distance of five miles.
Of course he knew that they couldn't unobtrusively approach the cave by boat but damned- he was a pirate and creeping through the jungle was simply incongruous for a pirate. He let out a deep sigh.
"I wish we had horses." Rowan felt equally fed up with wandering the hills. She reached for her water bottle and took a swig before handing it to Jack
"Aye," he agreed. Lost in thoughts he drank; then he noticed what he was drinking and would have spat it out again if the water hadn't been more refreshing than a sip of rum. He also noticed what he had said and quickly corrected himself. "I mean no, no horses. They're really evil animals with nasty teeth and dangerous hooves. No pirate should have to deal with them, savvy?"
"Ah. So which part of a horse did ye happened to come into contact with?"
Jack grimaced. Though she had figured him out once more he just walked on. Rowan hurried to keep pace with him when he abruptly stopped again and she bumped right into him.
"What the hell…"
"Apparently there's a dragon blocking the way."
She looked over his shoulder and saw a big reptile that had been dozing in the sun, now gazing rather unfriendly at them. But no matter how you looked at it, that creature was definitely no dragon. She elbowed Jack's ribs.
"That's an iguana, stupid. Besides, dragons are seen as symbol of luck in Asia, ye should know that."
"Ah, ye're such a bloody smart ass sometimes, ye know?"
Rowan was about to give him a mocking reply when she suddenly saw what they'd failed to notice before. After hours of walking up and down the hills they had finally reached the other side of the cape. Below them the blue waters of a bay sparkled in the sunshine and if they looked further to the northeast they could also see Port Royal in the distance.
"The cave must be somewhere near." Jack stated and circled left to avoid the presumably sharp teeth of the iguana though the poor reptile was certainly more shocked to meet a swaying pirate with jingling pearls in his long dreadlocks. "There are many entrances hidden all about in this area…"
Rowan wondered whether she should inform him that iguanas were vegetarians, therefore wouldn't like the taste of salt- and rum-soaked pirate flesh anyway, when suddenly there was a rustle in the scrub and Jack disappeared before her eyes. She could hear him crashing down a hole in the ground- then silence. Now, the iguana had definitely enough of crazy humans and waddled off as fast as his stumpy legs could carry him.
Minding her steps Rowan walked closer to the hole, silently cursing Jack and worrying about him at the same time.
"'ello luv! Found an entry."
She rolled her eyes when she saw him looking up at her, brushing off his coat and adjusting his hat. With much more grace than he'd shown she began to descend but couldn't avoid kicking off some loose rubble.
"Be careful. The way down's a bit risky." Jack warned her.
"Now, which of us is a smart ass?" She hissed in a lowered voice. Despite teasing Jack she was very well aware of the fact that they were on hostile ground now, and he knew it too.
"Shh, we have to be very quiet now."
And who's the one that came crashing down here, making lots of noise? Rowan wanted to reply but he put a finger on her mouth, gently tracing along the shape of her lips. Smirking conspiringly he pointed his chin towards a tunnel that interconnected this cave with others.
Hand in hand they walked on. First, Rowan wished she had taken along a torch but after her eyes had got used to the dim twilight down here she noticed that it wasn't completely dark in the tunnel. The rocks were so deeply fissured that there were many smaller or bigger openings through which rays of light could fall in, therefore a torch probably would have only given them away. She was quite sure about that when she suddenly heard voices in the distance, drowned by the sound of waves crashing on rocks. Apparently they had almost reached the cave they'd been looking for.
Jack gestured Rowan to stay behind him while he cautiously slunk around the corner. He saw three grey clad members of Norrington's marionette army guarding a prison cell- and in that prison cell Elisabeth was held captive. Jack began to realize that Norrington must have planned this a long time ago- probably right after he got under Ratbone's influence- since a proper prison cell wasn't put up in a cave within a day. So Elisabeth had always been part of his evil plan. It was like Rowan had said therefore it had been very wise of her to send the Turners away from Port Royal. She had already sensed danger then, without even knowing how things would proceed, but she surely hadn't expected things to turn out that way. Looking at it from that point there was also another meaning to Captain Escobar's murder. Probably he had to die because Elisabeth was not, as assumed, aboard the Gavina and the Spaniard didn't want to give away where she was instead. But the only thing that really mattered now was the promise Jack had given to Will Turner. I'll bring yer bonnie lass back to ye.
So, why waste time waiting for the opportune moment when the opportune moment had already come? After all, there were only three guards and they seemed to be distracted with discussing why they were here at all when no one would ever dare to thwart their master's evil plans anyway. Well, they'd forgotten a very important thing- he was Captain Jack Sparrow.
Jack had been a loner for too many years now; he wasn't used putting his cards on the table and sharing his plans with anyone had only led to a mutiny. Therefore he simply forgot Rowan's presence and was already on his way to rescue Elisabeth before she even noticed what he had in mind.
Damned, he's either much too full of himself or daft, Rowan thought when she saw him creeping towards the prison cell. Best of all she would have liked to pull him back into the shadows by his dreadlocks but he was already too far away to grab him without giving up her cover. All she could do now was to watch him, ready to interfere when things went wrong- she didn't need to wait long for that.
"You! What are you doing here?" One of the guards had spotted Jack sneaking towards the prison cell and aimed his bayonet at him. Nevertheless Jack managed to crack a smile.
"Me?"
"This cave is off limits to civilians." Another guard barked, equally threatening Jack with his gun.
Rowan wondered whether she should help him now but decided to wait a little longer. Maybe Jack could talk himself out of that. It appeared to her that he still had the situation under control.
"Ah, I'm sorry. Didn't know that."
"What do we have to do now?" The taller guard asked his smaller and more corpulent companion. "Shall we shoot him?"
"I don't know…"
"Gentlemen, I'm sure we can solve that problem. See, I'm just an archaic... anarchist… archaeologist- that's the right word, I'm an archaeologist." - and." Jack was glad that Murtogg and Mullroy were under the influence of the Chalice therefore they didn't remember him and he could continue spinning a yarn. "I explore the caves of Jamaica for Taino artefacts. They were really skilled craftsmen, these Tainos." He rattled the iron bars of the prison cell. "See, solid as a rock."
"Well, actually Master has built that cell…"
"Don't tell him. We don't know if he's telling the truth."
"Do you think he's lying?"
Jack rolled his eyes. The influence of the Chalice had definitely not improved their cleverness.
"Just shoot him." The third guard interjected. "Master had given orders. We serve and obey."
"Master had said shoot all pirates but he's an archaeologist. At least that's what he said." Murtogg considered.
"Shoot him!"
It seemed to Rowan that the third guy was an obsequious devotee of Norrington while the fat and the stupid were just- daft. Anyway, she wasn't in the mood to wait until these three marionettes had decided whether to shoot Jack or not, so it was time for a little action.
Mullroy saw her creeping closer and shouted, "A woman!", like he'd never seen one before but then it was already too late for Norrington's hardcore fan to react. She kicked the gun out of his hands and the shot meant for Jack hit the roof.
"Sorry, gents, 't was nice chattin' with ye but…" Jack grabbed Murtogg and Mullroy by their collars, unceremoniously banging their heads together. "…now I've got other things to do."
While they sank to the ground he threw a quick glance at Rowan to see if she could handle her opponent- she did- then he headed for the keys of the prison. They hung on a hook on the left side of the cell as he'd already noticed.
"Don't worry Lizzie, we'll get ye outta here."
The young woman stared at him with big eyes, obviously overwhelmed to see him- or she was simply in a state of shock. When she finally managed to utter a word it was only the name of her beloved husband. "Will?"
"He's alright. He's in bed where he belongs and I'll bring ye back to him where you belong…" "I wouldn't be so sure about that!" A sharp and very cold sounding voice bellowed echoing through the cave, Norrington's voice.
Concentrated on fighting the guards in order to free Elisabeth, Jack and Rowan had neither heard the sound of approaching horses nor noticed Norrington plus at least twenty of his grey-clad servants entering the cave.
"Well, well, if that isn't the infamous Jack Sparrow." Norrington said cynically.
"Captain… it's Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy?"
"Ah, how could I forget that?" The Commodore faked a smile but even that died when he spotted Rowan.
Harassed she looked around, realizing quickly that they had no chance. Though she had learned a lot about martial arts during her years in Asia, she had also learned when it was time to give in. Nevertheless she didn't like it.
"You again! Has no one ever taught you that a decent woman ought to stay at home where she belongs, caring for her man?"
"But I do care for my man, that's why I'm here." Rowan dared to say when his fist suddenly hit her like the famous bolt from the blue and knocked her out.
"Clap him- no, clap them in irons." Norrington barked at his men before contemptuously looking from the unconscious woman to a very outraged pirate, an evil smile on his lips. "Well, since your whore is so keen in seeking trouble it would be a shame not to see her hanging next to you, Captain Jack Sparrow. You two have an appointment with the gallows accompanying the ceremonies of my promotion as Admiral of the whole Caribbean."
-
Being chased by an angry and very blood-thirsty Rakshasa, Santiago reached Blue Mountain Peak. From here he had a roundabout view across the whole island of Jamaica. He saw green wooded hills, white beaches and the blue of the sea melting with the sky at a distant horizon, but he saw more than that, more than meets the eye of the usual observer. The Spaniard could also see plantations and villages, the people who lived there, the Maroons who hid in the jungle, the birds in the trees. He saw the two pirate ships anchoring near Great Goat Island and sensed that Jack and Rowan weren't aboard. Of course not. A vision is not always a lie but part of a truth that might come true though it wasn't obligatory, he told himself and sent his spirit roaming the Hellshire Hills until he found them. In his mind's eye he witnessed the events taking place in that cave; he saw Norrington approaching and wanted to shout, "Watch out!"- but they wouldn't hear him anyway. He felt helpless and at the same time very angry. Why do they never listen to me? But no, they chose to ignore any advice like it is just a nuisance to them, and then they land themselves in a mess again. Now their defeat is Norrington's triumph and there's nothing I can do about it at the moment…Rakshasa's near…
Santiago could smell the demon's foul breath before he heard him growl or saw his cut-throat razor claws flashing in the sunlight. Just in time he ducked, cursing himself for his failure to notice Anirvan's presence earlier because he was much too distracted thinking about Jack and Rowan. Stupid kids. Ah, they shall stay in prison for a while, at least they can't do anything stupid there. I have no time for them now, Anirvan's claiming all my attention…
Though he couldn't die he wasn't resistant to pain. A hot, throbbing wave of pain shot through his thigh where the sharp claws of the Rakshasa had cut his flesh. Santiago had to flee and seek shelter for a while; the wound would heal soon but dusk was closer to falling with every passing minute and he didn't know how strong Anirvan would really be at night. He sent out a loud mental call to the blonde tousle head.
Marris moved a little bit closer to Anamaria and put an arm around her shoulder. They got along so well today so he thought it was time for more proximity. She didn't seem to mind, instead her dark eyes almost encouraged him to become even bolder and her full lips just longed to get kissed by him. So he did. First he kissed her slightly but when she flung her arms around his neck the kiss became more passionate and it felt perfectly right to him until…
MARRIS!
He jerked away from Anamaria and almost fell out of the bed, cringing as if someone had punched him hard in the stomach, or- more accurately- shouted deafening in his brain. Unfortunately Marris wasn't skilled in answering Santiago only on a mental level, therefore he hissed. "Ah, piss off, that's not the opportune moment."
Of course Anamaria misunderstood the whole situation and took it very personally since she could still remember clearly how Jack had pushed her aside not so long ago. She started to swear at Marris but even her worst curses seemed to make no impression on him. Now she was really infuriated.
Listen to me, lad. Jack and Rowan have been caught by Norrington although I told them to stay aboard. You should have informed me about their plans immediately.
"I'm never gonna deceive Rowan…"
"Ye bloody son of a mangy bitch, how dare ye? Rowan- huh?"
Marris felt slightly overtaxed. Santiago shouted mentally at him while Ana did audibly, alas he couldn't understand what either of them said. He made an attempt to cover his ears when suddenly he got slapped hard across the face.
"I'm not gonna make a fool of me just because of you."
"Ouch!" he shrieked, not aware of what he'd done to deserve that.
Stop whining and get a grip on yourself now. A little slap is hardly painful…
For an instant Marris could feel Santiago's pain. Wincing he saw a nasty gash in the thigh but even in that short instant he could also see that the wound was healing rapidly; the edges began to close in a mysterious- magical- way. Well, if the Spaniard could take care of his own why was he bothering him? And why was Anamaria so infuriated? But most of all Marris wanted to know why everybody had to shout at him.
"Shut up now! All of you!"
Anamaria froze in her tracks. She'd been about to storm out off her own cabin but then she stopped and looked at Marris like he'd gone mad. Relieved because of the agreeable silence he managed to crack a weary smile at her.
"I'm sorry, dear. Santiago's voice is roaring in me head and I can't stop him from doing so. Please gimme a second to hear him out and then I'll explain ev'rything to ye, savvy?"
That sounded just too weird to be just a flimsy excuse so Anamaria nodded, arms folded across her chest. Meanwhile Marris tried to concentrate on what Santiago had to tell him, hoping that it was of importance and not only slagging off.
Since I'm just playing tag with a Rakshasa I really appreciate that you're willing to share your precious time on my unimportant behalf. Am I allowed to speak now? Santiago 'asked' cynically- as if anything would have stopped him from over-flooding the Marris' mind with all the visions, emotions and information that were on his mind.
In the end the pirate was up-to-date. He could also sense that Santiago had withdrawn the link to his brain and sighed with relief.
"Dunno why the Spaniard's using me as his mouthpiece recently but I definitely don't like it." Marris shrugged, looking at Anamaria. He wished they could just continue where they'd stopped but unfortunately Santiago had given him a contrary task. "Well, apparently Santiago's chased by a demon and our captains are in Norrington's captivity, so that leaves us to do something about it, don't ye think so?"
"Ye're telling me that ye hear Santiago's voice in yer head and ye can talk to him though he's not there, right?"
"Aye."
"So you're either mad or a magician." She shot him a wary glance that could also be seen as a warning.
"Hmm, I'm definitely no magician though there had been a shaman in my mother's family once…" Marris fell silent before he could mention the reindeer bones again- since he'd already said that he wasn't a magician Ana might come to the conclusion that he was actually mad. Wasn't he? Lately he himself was wondering about that
Anamaria stared at him with narrowed eyes but then she sighed. Oddly enough she seemed to be convinced that he was telling the truth. "Well then, the supernatural might be in yer blood."
Marris grimaced and cursed the reindeer bones again. He could do without Santiago roaring in his head as a habit, especially not in moments of intimacy. Shooing the thought of Ana's full, soft lips away he informed her what Santiago had asked- ordered- him to do. He should gather a small group of approximately six pirates and head towards the cave where they were supposed to wait for the Spaniard.
And no ill-considered solo runs this time, Santiago had emphasized particularly.
-
Rowan came to her senses with a throbbing pain in the head. Instinctively she wanted to touch her head but she couldn't move her hands because they were chained behind her back. She moaned frustrated, remembering what had happened. It didn't improve her mood very much to see Jack's face only inches away of hers when she finally opened her eyes. He looked worried. Now that's no surprise, after all he landed us in this mess. If only he'd bothered to talk to me but- nah, why should the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow share his great plans, she thought cynically.
"Ye're awake!" Jack commented cheerfully, totally unimpressed by her narrowed eyes since she couldn't possibly be directing that fuming look at him.
"Thanks for noticing." Ungraciously she gazed at him, wishing that bloody headache would wear off. She shifted a bit to find a more comfortable position but that wasn't easy with chained hands. "Ah, ye really did such a brilliant job of giving us a nice little break."
"Well, I'm sure ye'd feel better if ye had shut up instead of trying yer best to infuriate the Commodore though I liked the part that ye do care for me."
"Shouldn't have said that."
"Why, is there something wrong between us, luv?"
"No. It's always been my secret desire to end up in a prison cell with you." Rowan rolled her eyes but that only caused her head to ache even more. Silently she cursed her head, Jack, her own stupidity, Commodore Norrington, and men in general. Since that didn't help much either she sighed. "Well then, let's try and see the positive aspect in our current situation; at least we can have a better eye on Elisabeth now. Er… where is Elisabeth by the way?"
With Jack squatting right in front of her, her visual field was slightly limited but when she made an effort to look all around him she had to see that they were alone in this cell.
"Being dressed for the ritual- though I'm not sure if dressed is really the right word." While moving aside to give her a better look, Jack lost balance and landed on his butt. Yet that and his clumsy attempt to gain a more dignified position again- somehow he reminded Rowan of a beetle fallen on its back- was only half as hilarious as the sight she got then.
In the middle of the cave stood a dressing table. It was monstrous white thing, richly embellished with flourishes and a golden mirror. The stool in front of that dressing table was also white with an upholstered seat of pink velvet, and on that pink velvet sat Elisabeth. A devoted lady's maid worked on her hair with curling tongs- all under the sharp eyes of several grey clad servants and Norrington himself. Apparently the Commodore had become an expert in style since he criticised the maid now and then, showing her what he wanted Elisabeth to look like. Now that was the strangest part of all because he obviously wanted her to look like a mixture of whore and Indian princess. Rowan chuckled and agreed with Jack on the issue that dressed was definitely not the right word to describe Elisabeth's state. Those tiny scraps of cloth were hardly meant to conceal more than just her breasts and private parts, no matter whether they were embroidered with golden threads and tiny mirrors, and no matter how much transparent gauze caressed her slender figure. Her get-up was simply meant to arouse the sexual fantasies of men who dream of a whore dressed up as an Indian princess, and even worse, the pale pink of her dress was surely not her colour at all, especially not with that make-up. Khol rimmed eyes looked good on Jack but not on her- or the dark crimson on her lips was just too much. Nevertheless she didn't protest. Actually, Elisabeth just sat spineless on that stool and let things happen as if she wasn't involved.
"What's wrong with her? I wouldn't let them tart me up like that, and Elisabeth is definitely a more decent woman than I am." Rowan wondered aloud.
"Aye. She's a fair lady using hairpins like decent women should."
Rowan looked at him like he'd gone totally nuts. "Um, have I missed something? Did ye get a knock on the head too?"
He grinned broadly and reached out one hand to put a finger on her lips. "Hush now. Ye've got such a vicious tongue, luv."
It occurred to Rowan that there was something wrong with that gesture and when she got it her eyes widened. His hands weren't chained anymore. Now she also understood his talking about hairpins- he must have used one of Elisabeth's hairpins as a picklock. She knew that that did work sometimes though she'd never found out how.
"Ye've gotta show me that trick one day." She whispered while Jack fiddled about with her chains.
"Shh- no foolish actions now. We better behave unobtrusively and wait for the opportune moment."
Rowan threw a glance at the scenery. Norrington just reprimanded the lady's maid once again, not satisfied with what she did to Elisabeth's hair. Obviously he didn't want a neatly curled hairstyle but a more dramatic one, and the young maid appeared to be slightly overtaxed in accomplishing his wishes since she'd never learned to do anything but neatly curled hairstyles. Also, it didn't really help to improve her self-confidence that at least a dozen grey glad soldiers watched her at work; her hands began to shake and Norrington began to shout at her, calling her nasty things no gentlemen should ever address to a woman no matter how low her rank was.
"What're ye up to?" Rowan used the general mess to ask Jack about his plan though she already knew that he had none but to wait for the opportune moment and then do something that was too typical Jack to understand his reasons. Probably that did work most of the time as the stories about him proved, nevertheless she hadn't become accustomed to his very own special ways yet. She had never been the one to sit back and take it easy; she needed action. Alas, she had to admit that they alone couldn't possibly eliminate a dozen devoted followers of Norrington.
Meanwhile, Norrington had lost patience with the lady's maid and ripped the curling tongs of her hand before he himself worked havoc on Elisabeth's hair, accompanied by the cheers of his men. And Elisabeth stoically let it happen.
"Dunno why he's making that much fuss when all he wants is to screw her." Jack commented shrugging. "They gave her a potion that's why Elisabeth appears to be a bit out of it. Perhaps it's better for her not to know what Norrington's up to." He paused and looked thoughtfully at Rowan. No, I better don't ask her if she was dressed the same when she was supposed to be sacrificed to Nirrti… though it would be interesting to know. But it would also be like turning the knife in the wound and she'd probably kill me for that- understandably- because after all, it's still a very delicate topic for her.
"Great, so we've got not only a dozen marionettes-soldiers plus Norrington to deal with but also a drugged Elisabeth. What's yer plan then? Wait for the opportune moment to give all of them a good beating- you take the six on the right and I take the six on the left- before we snatch Elisabeth and run?"
"Shh- not so loud. We wanna behave unobtrusively, remember?"
Rowan pulled a face. Jack noticed that she was slightly annoyed, restless, and definitely not in the mood to sit back and take it easy, therefore he quickly changed his plan. Perhaps it would make sense to get reinforcement by some of their fellow pirates though he knew as well that strength wasn't measured in numbers only.
"Now listen, luv, I've got an idea- let's say, a very special task for ye. D'ye think ye can manage to sneak past Norrington's men while they're still distracted, hurry to our ships, gather a couple of trustworthy sailors and then come back before the worst is gonna happen?"
She glared at him with narrowed eyes. A very special task… well, well. Of course she believed herself capable of managing that but that was not the point. It was the way he had pronounced it that made her wonder whether that was only meant as an attempt to get rid of her so he could carry on with an as yet unmentioned plan. "What about you?" she asked warily.
"I'm gonna stay here, keep a sharp eye on Elisabeth, and try to prevent the worst happening- just in case, I mean." Jack put on his trademark grin. "Of course I'd rather come with ye, luv, but- alas, an empty cage is far more conspicuous than one with an infamous jailbird in so it would take them a while to notice that the prettiest bird has flown, savvy? Now gimme a kiss and tell me that this is a great plan."
Rowan leaned over to quickly brush his lips with hers but she didn't do him the favour of telling him that his plan was a great one. "Well, try not to do something stupid."
Jack just tsked. While he opened the door in next to no time, she let her eyes roam through the cave. Elisabeth looked like something had exploded on her head when Norrington was ready with her hair and then he topped his work by attaching a diadem with a long transparent veil. His devotees cheered; they clapped hands due to his brilliance and therefore proved their lack of good taste or the meaning of style. Nevertheless, they were distracted and that suited Rowan well. She slipped out of the cell and moved stealthily along the wall towards the main entrance of the cave. Still unnoticed she slunk around the corner.
The sun was already sinking when Rowan left the cave, and she felt a fresh breeze in her face. It smelled of the sea, of sun-touched earth and dry woods, and… of horses. Actually, there were more than a dozen horses tethered nearby.
She wondered whether it was wise to borrow a horse since the Hellshire Hills where hardly the perfect terrain to go riding- yet it was such a tempting idea. Also, the horses were unguarded… well, at least almost. There was one man supposed to be on guard but he was too busy with peeing to notice her. He had leaned his musket against a rock like an invitation for thievish hands and Rowan could definitely use a weapon even though a musket was not her favourite choice. She had just picked it up when he suddenly became aware of her and turned around, shocked. Immediately his hands were up in the air.
"Don't shoot me." He wailed.
"Ugh…" Rowan looked away, thinking about whether she should simply shoot him for molesting her with that sight. But she felt merciful today- and, to be honest, she didn't know exactly how to handle a musket- so she barked, "Hands down and pants up!"
"Aye, Sir… um, Mylady...?"
"Captain."
Obviously he was slightly overtaxed with that situation. Blushing he covered his private parts with his hands before he remembered that she wanted him to put up his pants but then he would have to take his hands away and that would be very embarrassing.
Rowan rolled her eyes and aimed the musket at him in order to make him hurry up. Meanwhile she had recognized him as one part of the fat-and-stupid-duo, him being the fat one, though both of them had been quite daft indeed. Nevertheless he might be useful as soon as he had his pants on.
"Ye're my hostage now." She informed him- just in case he hadn't got it yet- after he was properly dressed again. "I want you to show me a fast and secure way to cross the hills on horseback, savvy?"
"Aye, Madam!"
"Captain. It's Captain- not Madam or Mylady. Keep that in mind and I won't shoot ye."
Though Mullroy nodded obsequiously, he glanced at her kind of confused and suddenly it dawned on him that she was a pirate; she even reminded him of someone. That brought up a couple of questions. Could women become pirate captains? Well obviously they could or she was lying to him. But if she was telling the truth why could she ride a horse then? And, more important, could he ride a horse? And did that matter at all when she poked his belly with the barrel of the musket to make him move? He decided that it was better not to annoy her more than she was anyway and quickly climbed in the saddle- at least he thought himself being quick but Rowan could swear she had never seen anyone mount a horse that clumsily. Shaking her head she picked the best horse for herself and shooed away all others so that she couldn't be pursued by Norrington's men so easily.
Master wouldn't like that, Mullroy thought and then he wondered, Master? I'm an honourable soldier of the Royal Navy, I serve the King of England…What am I doing here? Where's Murtogg? There were so many memories floating through his head that it made him feel almost dizzy. but he could not remember anything clearly, except- and he was very proud of it- that there was indeed a way leading through a valley and past a salt marsh to the other side of the peninsula. He only didn't know how to get the horse in motion.
"Come on, we don't have all day!" Rowan got impatient and gave his horse a good smack on the flank and it lurched into a slow trot.
Mullroy clung to the mane, bouncing up and down in the saddle with the grace of a wet flour bag, nevertheless he shouted enthusiastically, "Follow me Ma'am Captain!"
-
Santiago was beginning to get tired of being an angry Rakshasa's favourite prey though he had voluntarily chosen to become one in order to distract Anirvan from Jack and Rowan. Till now, he had succeeded well- despite that small scratch he had incurred. What once had been a nasty gash in his thigh had already healed by now and he could focus his attention on more important things again. For example, on far too many souls that were still enslaved by the Chalice of Doom. He had to get back to that room in Port Royal and force it to spit out more souls, at best all of them. Anirvan would be a much easier challenge without his marionette-like allies…
Only an instant later he had materialized himself in the same room where the chase had started, holding the golden chalice in his hands once again. It was still pulsing with captured souls though there weren't that many as before, when he had first tried to set them free. Now he could almost distinguish each single one of them and he was really appalled to find out that Elisabeth had also become a victim of the Chalice. He concentrated on her soul but couldn't get hold of it, it literally slipped though his hands…
The Rakshasa laughed. It was a nasty sound, like a laughing hyena but with a growling undertone.
"Did you really think it would be that easy? You are much too full of yourself, Spaniard, and you seem to have underestimated my power. Your magic is like a tiny firefly compared to the blazing glory of mine. Better surrender or I'll tear out your heart and eat it raw."
One blue skinned paw knocked the chalice out of Santiago's hands, the second one caught it, while a third one shot forward to dug its sharp claws into his flesh but Santiago saw it coming and dodged quickly. He would never underestimate a demon with four arms. Nevertheless, if the Rakshasa did hunger for his heart he had to be faster. He was surely an impressive creature, standing twice as big as the average human, showing his fangs that dominated a grim blue face with reptile eyes like glowing charcoals; they were in fact all black with a hint of sparkling red. But he was also very bulky and that meant he definitely lacked speed.
Growling dangerously the Rakshasa hurled himself at the Spaniard, equally sick and tired of chasing him all across Jamaica and back, he was hungry and blood-thirsty.
Santiago drew his sword. If he could kill him now while he was all animal instinct and less a magician, exhausted from the hunt… Yet fighting a four-armed demon with his sword would be like tilting at a windmill- rather ineffective. He had to concentrate on a magical attack and he had to get that chalice back. Blocking sharp claws with his sword he hurried to bring the table between him and the Rakshasa though that didn't stop the demon going after him. Unceremoniously he shoved the table aside with one of his big paws; it went crashing against the wall and broke apart.
Why is he still that strong when he should be tired by now?, Santiago wondered and then he knew why. The sun was down. It was night and he was regaining his strength the darker it got. He had to do something, at once.
The Rakshasa came closer and the foul stench of his breath was- well, breathtaking. Was there any spell against stench? Unfortunately not, but there was one that made the demon froze to the spot so that Santiago could change position and attack him from behind. Though he'd never thought it fair to stab an opponent from behind the end justifies the means, and the evil wasn't allowed to win. But that damned beast was already stronger than he had expected him to be and apparently he'd been able to break the spell without much effort since he whirled around now, four hands with cut-throat razor claws aiming at his prey. The Spaniard raised his sword in defence, hoping to cut off at least one of those hands but instead he just gave the Rakshasa a free manicure. Nevertheless, he had dropped the Chalice of Doom.
It fell to the floor twisting and rattling as if some drunk had dropped it before passing out, actually looking just like any ordinary wine goblet as it lay there on the floor. Jack would have never picked it in the first place if it hadn't called to be taken along, Santiago pondered and yet he was still very well aware of every movement the Rakshasa made, ducking just in time when his claws shot up for another attack.
"Shelter!" He demanded, and an invisible protection shield spared him the worst. He felt the claws scratching the air above his back but not his back itself as he crept closer to the Chalice and laid hands on it. Now it would be wise to leave the scene discreetly but he had not reckoned with the Rakshasa's highly motivated ambitions to keep him from exactly doing that. At once he sensed a strong, foreign magic that froze him to the spot. He couldn't move, let alone teleport himself to a safer place, and it got worse. None of his magical charms worked anymore, they seem to bounce off the Rakshasa as if he was suddenly immune of them. Santiago tried to crawl backwards when he saw the claw coming but this time he couldn't get away and his shelter had simply dissolved into nothing. Then he felt a sharp pain. The claws had torn open his chest and he knew that the gash was running from his collarbone to his stomach without even bothering to look at it; he just knew it. He was tired, very tired and weak since the blood was streaming out of him in fountains- at least that was what it felt like before he lost consciousness.
The Rakshasa laughed his hyena laugh but contained his thirst for blood as he transformed into a well-clad magician again. Humming he ran his fingers through his hair and took a look in the mirror, quite content with what he saw. Still humming a merry tone on his lips he picked up the Chalice, polished it with the sleeve of his brocade coat, and then unceremoniously stepped over the dying man on the floor without even batting an eye on him. After all, he had an appointment to keep and he was late. Nevertheless he had the nerve to collect a few more souls in his precious Chalice while making his way to the Hellshire Hills and a very special cave.
-
There were many people that considered Captain Jack Sparrow as a drunk and a fool; they said he was daft, eccentric, and a bit out of it most of the time. They'll never comprehend that sitting in bars, drinking rum, wasn't always meant to get drunk but an easy way to do a little eavesdropping- and it was amazing how often a well kept secret slipped off a sloppy tongue when the speaker misjudged an apparently drunken man dozing at the table nearby.
Some people called him an insufferable nuisance, a notorious scoundrel, the worst or the best pirate they'd ever seen- depending on the state of his affairs, whether he still held all the cards or had put them on the table already. But all of them would agree at once that Captain Jack Sparrow was a hard man to predict. So much was disguised by his unique style, the jingling beads in his hair, his dark, khol-rimmed eyes, his golden smile, the way he slurred and swayed. That was what most people saw since that was what he wanted them to see. They simply believed in the face he showed them without bothering to look further. Only a very few people had ever sensed that there was more about him than meets the eye but no one really knew the man behind the legends. He just didn't like to give away his reason and least of all his feelings, and he'd become much more cautious in guarding them nowadays. Mister Gibbs had once stated he's close as a vest and he was right with that. Rowan might have thought she'd figured him out because he'd let her take more than just a glimpse at his soul but she was still far away of knowing all about him. Even Santiago didn't although he was a magician. There was so much more about Captain Jack Sparrow no one but himself knew.
Also- in contrary to the general acceptance of people who judged him only by the way his hands danced in the air, constantly gesticulating, underlining his words- Jack was indeed a very patient man. Ten years he had waited for the opportune moment to get back his Black Pearl, and in all those years he had even managed to keep that single shot in his pistol that was meant for Barbossa only. Other men would have tried to rush things but he, he had just waited. He had been sitting in bars, his hat pulled half over his face, apparently dozing and yet picking up every little bit of information, every rumor about Barbossa and his crew of miscreants.
Same he did now, only that he was sitting behind bars this time. A fact that, however, didn't bother him much. From under the rim of his hat he scanned the cave with dark watchful eyes, taking in every stone in his surroundings. He also spent some time with bat-watching- clever little creatures they were, flapping through the darkness without ever knocking their heads. Then he watched the Commodore again and noticed that his attention was still fixed on Elisabeth. He also noticed that there seemed to be less of his grey-clad vassals around although he had seen none of them leaving. It was as if they had the dissolve into nothing. Now that was really interesting.
-
Marris looked over the rail of the Black Pearl to where his boat was supposed to be- only to notice that it wasn't there anymore. Well, he was quite sure that he had moored it securely when he got here to pay lovely Anamaria a visit.
Quickly he scanned the faces of the crew for hidden smiles, thinking they had played a trick on him, which wouldn't be surprising at all. Actually, good-natured practical jokes had been on the agenda while they had anchored in Tortuga, getting to know each other, drinking together… He had to lower his eyes in order to gaze at Marty since said pirate was definitely the shortest one he'd ever met. Standing only about 4 feet tall he was easily to overlook if he wouldn't be such a funny little man indeed. He was always the one to laugh the loudest when someone called him a midget or a dwarf and he really had a very peculiar sense of humour, which Marris liked a lot. Nevertheless, his expression gave no hint that he was the one responsible for a missing longboat.
They were ready to row ashore in one of the Pearl's longboats when Marris suddenly got aware that he was the only one of the Jewel's crew aboard. He wished that at least one of his fellows would be accompanying him since it felt really strange to rely on strangers only when it comes to rescue his Captain as well, and he was also very well aware of the fact that neither Gibbs nor Anamaria liked Rowan Scarlett at all
Nevertheless, he grabbed the oars and started rowing, glad to do something that kept him busy or else his thoughts would have driven him mad. Too much had happened recently, making him wonder, and he could still hear Ana asking him whether he was a magician. Well, though he'd answered that question with a definite 'no' and would even underline it if necessary, there was no doubt about it that something had been happening to him lately. It surely wasn't by accident that Santiago's voice rang in his head… and it couldn't possibly be by accident only that he saw one of the Jewel's longboats down at that beach they were heading to.
Marris frowned. Given that Marty really wasn't to blame for that- unlikely, unless he had rowed it ashore only to confuse him since the current wouldn't have carried it there- he came to the conclusion that somebody must have nicked it in order to steal himself away. So who would be daft enough to do exactly that? He could only think of one person…
-
Rowan reined in her horse, startled by a rustle in the undergrowth. Well, probably that was just an iguana… but no iguana would flung itself onto a rider in order to steal his horse. Mullroy yelled for help so she hurried to his rescue. She got hold of the horse thief's collar and was about to knock him out when she suddenly realized who he was. Though it was very tempting to knock him out nevertheless, she contained herself and gave that daft fool a good shaking instead.
"What the hell ye think ye're doing here?"
"Good Lord, he's the Governor's son-in-law!" Mullroy stated superfluously since she had already became aware of that fact.
Will Turner writhed under her firm grasp and gave her a defiant look. "I've got to save Elisabeth."
"Miss Elisabeth is in danger?"
"Shut up!" Rowan looked daggers at Mullroy before concentrating on Will again. If there had been a patch in his face that wasn't bruised, swollen or crusted with blood she would have loved to smack him but, as a rule, she was not going to smack a man who was hardly able to stay on his feet. "Listen lad you should be in bed, and no- don't tell me you've gotta save Elisabeth 'cause ye're simply not in the state to do so, savvy?"
Will opened his mouth to protest but then even he himself had to admit that she was right. Immediately he was slouching, feeling helpless.
"Ah, ye've come to yer senses? Great! So can I rely ye won't do anything rash that'll only mess up Jack's plan or do I have to tie ye up to that cactus over there?"
"Can't do that Ma'am Captain. It has nasty pricking spines!"
"Thanks for reminding me, daftie, though that is actually the reason I threatened to tie him up there." She growled without deigning to look at him. It was wiser to keep a sharp eye on Will since he still had a defiant look on his face. "So boy what are ye up to now? Will ye behave or do I have to get nasty?"
"Jack's got a plan?" He asked hesitantly, a glimmer of hope flashing up in his eyes.
"Yep." Sure he's got a plan, Captain Jack Sparrow always has a plan he's just not willing to share it- she thought cynically. Nevertheless she trusted him since a man who had managed to sack Nassau port without firing a single shot was to be trusted.
"And where is Jack?"
"Pardon me..."
"No!"
"... but you're not talking about Jack Sparrow, do you?"
If looks could kill Mullroy would be dead. Rowan was extremely pissed off by now and she felt the urgent desire to strangle both men because they kept her from getting reinforcement, and Jack was still in that cave with mad Norrington and his men.
"We're wasting precious time with stupid questions." She hissed impatiently, pointing her index finger at Will's chest. "I swear, if anything happens to Jack…"
"Jack? Elisabeth's the one in danger. I highly doubt you have to worry about Jack Sparrow." Will dared to say but according to the fuming look she shot him he better shouldn't have said that.
"Don't tell me whom I have to worry about, boy, or you can see to it yerself how to get to China and to find the monastery where yer father is."
"That's blackmail. You can't make me decide between my wife and my father."
Rowan rolled her eyes. Apparently he refused to understand a single word of what she was saying but since she doubted that he was as daft as Mullroy she blamed it on a fever attack or something like that. After all, the young man was anything but healthy looking. Also she could understand his worries about Elisabeth to a certain extent because they definitely weren't without reason- she just hoped he'd never find out what exactly Norrington had in mind with her. So to avoid that happening at all she should better ride on and fetch the needed reinforcement, hurry back to the cave and…
"Pirates!" Mullroy shouted suddenly.
Rowan turned around to get the most ridiculous sight since she had stumbled across that Royal Navy guy. He had drawn a cutlass and positioned himself between her and the approaching group of pirates in order to- do what? Protect her? An honourable soldier of the Royal Navy tried to protect her- a pirate captain- from her pirate fellows. That was hilarious! She gave him a slight smack on the back of the head and took the cutlass from his hands before he could hurt himself. Then she smiled at the pirates. Never before had she been so glad to see Mister Gibbs although he obviously didn't feel the same about her.
"Where's Jack?" he asked gruffly.
She wanted to answer but then Marris gave her a hug, and for a moment she couldn't even breathe. Of course Anamaria didn't like that at all, while Will tried to use the moment to sneak away. He didn't get far though. Rowan whirled around and got hold of his collar once again, jerking him back to the illustrious round of pirates where he would have collapsed if a man called Silvers hadn't caught him just in time.
Seeing that Will was being cared for, Rowan addressed Gibbs. "Alright mate, you don't like me, I don't give a damn about you- we're square. But let's end our hostilities for a moment and for Jack's sake. We've gotta stick together now."
The elder man looked at her with narrowed eyes and noticed that in spite of her casual tone she was really serious; he also noticed her worries. His glance softened a bit. "What about Jack?"
"What about setting off first and while we're on our way back to that cave I'll fill ye in with all ye need to know? Agreed?"
"Agreed."
-
When the pirates finally reached the cave the first they heard was the beating of drums and Rowan knew at once that the unholy ceremony had already started. She hurried further, suddenly blinded by the light of many torches and candles that were lit in the cave. Marris grabbed her waist and dragged her back in the shadows.
"Hush now. We're supposed to wait for Santiago. Besides, ye don't wanna rush things like our dear friend William, do ye?"
Silently she shook her head. No, she wouldn't be that foolish although she felt panic rising within her when she had to watch that scenario in front of her. The dressing table had been removed by now and was replaced by some sort of makeshift altar on which the Chalice of Doom stood. She could sense its hungry cry for souls but somehow she didn't feel invited to join them, neither did any of the pirates accompanying her.
Nevertheless, her heart was thumping and the scenario made her feel nervous since it reminded her of a ceremony she had had to witness; a ceremony in which she had been about to become a sacrifice for her Maliciousness, Nirrti.
The drums were beating faster now and her mind flipped back to another time, another place. She was at the crematorium ground again… dressed in silk like I'd attend a wedding, my own wedding, but the wedding ceremony soon gets perverted by priests with black masks… I want to run away, anywhere…
"What exactly is Norrington up to do with Elisabeth?"
Will's worried voice jerked Rowan back into reality, to here and now. She gave him a puzzled look, wondering how to answer that question without scaring the wits out of him, so she simply said. "Ye don't wanna know that, believe me."
Unfortunately, Will wasn't so easily to fob off with that so he stubbornly tried to dig deeper. "Elisabeth is my wife. I've made a vow to protect her therefore I've got every right to know what that Norrington has in mind."
Rowan sighed. She was tempted to tell him but Marris reached for her hand and stopped her from doing so, also trying to calm down her increasing unrest. But the drums were beating faster than her heart now and she felt the urge to put an end to that perverted ceremony at once.
Ratbone, or Anirvan, or whatever he preferred to be called now, was clad in his charcoal grey brocade coat, looking every inch the mighty magician he was, as he led through the ceremony that would soon set Nirrti free. Rowan suddenly panicked, remembering how Nirrti had appeared to her in a blurred crimson vision once, smiling at her, content with her sacrifice, with Nirrti's chosen. She wouldn't be satisfied with Elisabeth if she could have me instead, a voice within her cried alarmed.
Yet while she crept deeper in the shadows in order to remain unseen, Will did the contrary. Apparently he'd figured out by himself what Norrington was up to- well, almost, since he definitely lacked any perverted fantasies of what was really going to happen here. Nevertheless, what he'd recognized so far didn't suit him at all. This was kind of a warped wedding ceremony and he wouldn't let that happen, under no circumstances.
"Stop!" He yelled.
Anirvan did do him that favour only to look daggers at Will and the group of pirates that immediately gave him encouragement by gathering up straight behind him, therefore supporting him in his stupid action.
"Ah," the magician snarled. "so who of you miserable creatures is going to try and stop me? Look at yourselves. There's a man who can hardly stand on his own feet, two girls, a midget, an old man and a very unskilled would-be magician. Now, that's ridiculous- don't you agree? I could squash you like annoying insects and feed your hearts to her Evil Highness if I'd even feel like bothering with such unimportant little human souls that you are."
"Well, well, mate. But you've forgotten a very important thing…" A familiar was to be heard and all heads turned to take a look at the swashbuckling splendour of Captain Jack Sparrow who stood on a rock, overlooking the cave.
"I wonder what …"
"No, no, no- don't ask that, Master." Norrington interrupted though it was already too late for a warning, and he was still surprised that the damned pirate wasn't in his prison cell anymore.
"… that might be?"
"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy?" Jack put on his trademark smirk. For an instant Rowan could see that he held something in his hands- a statue.
"Pleased to meet you, but your reputation won't stop me from killing you." Anirvan growled unimpressed before tilting his head to his grey clad allies. "Shoot him!"
Rowan froze. She heard shots echoing through the cave and noticed a disastrous light ball flashing up in the magician's hand, aimed at Jack. He set it off before she could even think of anything that would hinder him. Suddenly she saw Jack stumbling backwards, swaying, loosing balance. Then he fell and disappeared from her sight. She screamed his name.
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