Ok, shocker coming up! Uh..please excuse my mistakes, I dont have a spell check on this computer. hope you like this chapter!

Chapter seven: Blackbird

We finally reached India after almost two months at sea. The busy port of Bombay was a welcom sight of hustle and bustle. I donned my hat, and prepaired for when we would drop anchor at the docks. The faint Indian music that was romantic, sultry and subtle wafted through the air from the market place, even from our far out vantage point. I heard the small clinks of gold being passed through hands, and dropped while small street urchins ran to grab at the lost money. The air was hot and muggy, and almost a dull pink as if someone was looking at the world through rose colored glass. Imedeately I started sweating, not uesd to the climate, after the cool dampness of England, and other countries I had been.

"Ok! We are prepaired to go ashore!" Sparrow's voice called out over the hum of the crew members. I glanced at him as he was walking the deck, making ready to get off as well.

"Do you know where you are going to go?" He asked, coming to stand besides me. He still didn't know that my reason for being in India was to kill my aunt Fiona, and then my mother.

"Yes," I said, trying to keep my voice even.

"Would you like me to accompany you?" I jerked my head away, blushing slightly at his rare kindness.

"No, its all right. Really, Sparrow, you don't have to be burdened by me anymore. You took me to India, and all I ask is that you drop me off, and we can part ways." Sparrow let out an indignant noise in the back of his throat.

"Shit, Jezebel. I know why your here!" He said finally.

"I don't know what your talking about." I said, arrogance in my voice.

"Yes you do! You've been playing me a fool. You've come here to kill a reletive haven't you?" I blinked, but he still continued. "And you killed your sisters when we were in London, dont deny it."

"I am not denying anything."

"Another denial." Sparrow said, as if he had found out the meaning of life. "I knew, but I thought I shouldn't bring it up because you had just met up with your husband who is now dead."

"Sparrow," I said, closing my eyes. "Shut up."

"Oh no. I am going to trail you like a hawk. You are going to end up getting yourself killed, and I will feel guilty for some unfathomable reason. Yes, I am not going to let you out of my sight." My eyes snapped open and I glared at him, and started to advance on him.

"Jack Sparrow." I snarled. "I am a trained killer. I don't need your help. Leave me the hell alone, got it?" He started to back away from me. I wasn't as tall as him, but we were almost eye leavel. That day I was dresses in regular black breeches, a creamy white top, and a deep royal blue jacket to accent the color of my eyes. I had shined(sp?) my black boots so that I could see my reflection, and my hat was on like always.

"Too bad." Sparrow said, his voice starting to get an edge to it. "You don't know the streets of Bambay. You wil get yourself thrown in the slammer, or killed. It depends on where your priorities lie."

"I know my way around here." I cried out in defendance.

"What?" Sparrow hissed, his eyes narrowing and his eyebrows dipping down dangerously. "You said you've never been to India."

"So? I can lie can't I? Even to the infamous Jack Sparrow. Your not God, you know." I taunted.

"When have you been to India?" He gritted out, teeth clenched.

"Fine. If you want to know so bad...I was raised here. My father was an English man, my mother a courtesain. Hence my tan complection dark hair, and light eyes." My brilliant blue eyes flashed dangerously at him as he mulled this new information over.

"Are ya lying to me?" He asked, finally finding his tounge.

"No."

"Ok. Well, lets dissembark, eh? I'm sure whoever you are going to assasinate wont stand around waiting for you to kill 'em." I gave him another glare and ignoring his offered arm, flonced over to the lowered gangplank and strode off, upturned nose in the air.

I wove through the streets of Bombay with ease, knowing exactly where I was going. The merchants of which I passed, with their outstretched arms trying to entice me were a mere nuicance and I ignored their calls and offers as I made my way into the heart of the city.

"Could you slow it down, maybe?" Sparrow called, trying to keep up with me. I slowed down a whit and he rushed up to my side, panting slightly.

"Geesh, when your going on revenge, ya never stop do you?" He asked as a big white house came into view. It was in the tradional Indian style that it was built. Off the ground for the cool as well as big windows through at the mansion to envoke any breaze that may be passing. I accended the steps up to the main porch, and took a deep breath, one hand on the hilt of my sword, and the other on the handle of my pistol. Sparrow saw my position and his right hand flew down to grasp his gun. I knocked on the big painted white oak door.

A maid answered, Indian by the looks. She wore a balaclava that was made of a sheer sparkling white material and had on a matching (insert name of those Indian wrap things here).

"May I help you?" She asked in thick english.

"I would like to see the lady of the house, if I may. I am an old friend of hers from finishing school." I lied cooly. The maid looked at me skeptically as if I couldn't possibly be old enough to have gone through finishing school with my aunt, Fiona.

"Right this way ma'am. She has another visitor at this time. If you would be so kind as to wait outside of her sitting room, she will be with you shortly." I nodded in thanks, and Sparrow and I followed her in, shutting the massive door behind us. We sat down outside of the sitting room. Flashbacks from childhood games played in the exact same hall we were in came flooding back to me, casuing me to feel a bit dizy. I had spent many summers, and winters for that matter, here. A horribly familier voice wafted through the door and into the halls.

"They both fell under her dagger." It said. "Listen...you have got to get over being mad at me, and start becoming more afraid of (real name). Because she is coming, and she is coming to get you. And if you do nothing about, I have no doubt that she will succead."

"I don't dodge guilt. And I don't jew out of paying my come-upins." My aunt Fiona said sadly.

"Fiona, can't we just...forget the past?" The voice asked, the silkyness that I remembered so well still there.

"No. If you would be so kind as to leave now. It is the Lord's day, and I have yet to attend mass." This was it. This was my moment. I drew my pistol and cocked it. The door to the sitting room opened and both women stepped out.

"Hallo mother." I said coldly. My mother and Fiona both froze, eyes wide.

"So, you decided to come anyways?" My mother asked, regaining her voice first.

"Yup." I said happily, and pulled the trigger. The bullet caught her right between the eyes, and she fell forward...dead. My aunt started screaming, and I pulled out my sword advancing on her. She turned around to run and that was her big mistake. Her heel caught on her skirts and she tripped. She sprawled on the floor and lay there, accepting her fate.

"You know, I always loved you, Aunt Fi. You were my favorite aunt. What happened? Why did you do it?" My aunt slowly turned onto her back to stare up at me.

"I had no choice. But please! Wait! Before you kill me, hear me. After you are finished with your deeds, go up to the old nursery. You know the one. You will find something there." Then she closed her eyes, prepaired to meet the end of my blade.

I had to admitt, she was brave in her defeat. She went out without a sound. I motioned for Sparrow to follow me up the steps and into the nursery that was once mine. The maids had already fled the house, scared too much for their own lives to try and help my aunt or my mother.

I opened the nursery door slowly as if afraid of what was in there. At first, I saw nothing, but then as the door swung all the way open I spotted a child, no more than five sitting on the rug. She was talking to her dolly in her lap, but not as a child of five would. She formed no actual words, and instead was just babbling. She had long black wavy hair that looked as if it hand't been brushed in days, and her child's gown was dirty, and soiled as well as her underthings must be from not being changed. She definately wasn't potty trained. Her blue eyes were set a bit too far apart on her slack face that was plump and somewhat bloated.

"Oh my God." I whispered. She heard the small sound I made and looked up with some interest. He eyes were very dull, as if she didn't comprehend what she saw.

"Who is that?" Sparrow asked quietly at my shoudler.

"Oh my God." I said again. The little girl went back to babbling at her dolly and seemed as if she had no clue that we were there anymore.

"Jezebel...are you alright?" Sparrow asked again. His voice seemed far off and echoish, as if he were talking in a cup. "Jezebel...do you know this little girl?"

I finally found my words and spoke as if in a trance. "Of course I know her, even if I have never seen her in my life. A mother knows when she is looking at her own child."