Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

A/N: I loved writing this chapter, because I finally sat down, reread everything, and put all of the clues together so that now everything makes sense. So now you can stop trying to figure everything out and go "Oh, so that's she meant." At least I hope so. Please enjoy and comment!

Chapter 45: The Thatcher Household

Camille was kicking and biting as she was forced into a stagecoach with the men. She stopped only when one of them held a knife to her throat. She didn't understand much Spanish, but she did pick up a part about a house and slaves, or perhaps servants.

She was able to calm down some by the time the coach stopped, but her mind was still reeling. The binds on her wrists were replaced with a pair of shackles, and she was forced out at knifepoint.

They were at the front gates of a grand house, almost like hers. She was led around to the back gates, where a man and a woman were standing. They were dressed as servants, and they took her and paid one of the Hispanics. Camille didn't say a thing, because this was certainly nicer than being roughly handled by strange men.

They both took her, removed her shackles and led her up the grand staircase to a bedroom, where the woman laid out a dress for her and the man disappeared. Camille was still a bit in shock, but the woman turned to her. "You're in the household of Maximilian Thatcher now. And he don't like to have his supper late," she said coldly as she passed Camille and shut the door behind her.

Camille just stood there, baffled. Not ten minutes ago she had been lying next to Captain Jack Sparrow in bed. Which reminded her of something…she reached in her pocket. The key? His key? The key that Long John Silver had given to her, and that she had given to Jack. What did this all mean?

One thing was for certain; Jack had known about this all along. He had purposely seduced her, knowing that she would fall straight into his trap. But why would he have given the key to her, when it meant so much to him? Obviously she was still part of the plan. And now she had to figure out just what exactly she would have to do to get back at Captain Sparrow. He underestimated her far too much, and she was tired of it.

A knock sounded at the door, as she was just finishing pinning up her hair. She smoothed out her dress. "Uh…come in!" she called. A very familiar-looking, bored man entered.

"I assume that you are the new girl?" he drawled. It was none other than her old butler, Benjamin, who had quit working for them years ago before her father became ill. She tried to hide her amusement as recognition washed over his face.

"M-miss Quartermaine?" he asked. "What on earth are you doing here?"

"Hello, Benjamin. It's a rather long story, I'm afraid. And I don't particularly know if I'm at liberty to say."

Benjamin nodded. "Well, I will show you to your duties."

Camille had no problem whatsoever with the cooking and cleaning. She was so used to doing it on the Pearl, and with clean water it was so much easier. Except for Benjamin, the rest of the servants ignored her presence.

She was very interested in meeting her new owners, but was still very distracted with the previous events. How was she going to get herself out of this? Perhaps it was best to lie low for awhile here and try and figure out how to contact Will or Ana Maria. There was no doubt that Ana Maria would know what was going on. And she had nothing to lose by writing a letter anyway.

A voice boomed from the other room. "Constance! What is this mud doing on my floor!"

Camille peered out of the bustling kitchen to get a good look at Maximilian Thatcher. He was wearing a powdered wig, and her heart sank. She was in a British household. She sighed dishearteningly. "Bloody hell," she cursed. Before long, it would be corsets and crumpets galore. She hated crumpets. Perhaps being a servant, she wouldn't have to eat any. That thought lifted her spirits a bit, as she was summoned into the main hall to take the master's coat.

She took it and hung it in the main hall closet. Maximilian didn't give her the slightest acknowledgment as she did so. She made her way into the beautifully set dining room, lighting the candles.

When dinner was over, and all of the servants were gone to their quarters or to fulfill other duties, Camille was finally able to talk to Benjamin. He didn't know much, except for the fact that a few weeks prior to her arrival, one of the maids had gone missing.

"And that was probably Jack's doing, as well," she thought aloud.

"Jack?" Benjamin questioned.

"Yes, Jack Sparrow."

"You're involved with Captain Sparrow?" Benjamin asked. "Oh, dear."

"Yes, I know."

"No Miss Quartermaine, I'm afraid you don't. But not to worry. Young master Gabriel is quite knowledgeable in these aspects."

"Whatever do you mean, Benjamin?" Camille asked. Who was Gabriel?

"Follow me. Perhaps he hasn't retired just yet," Benjamin said, leading her upstairs. He pointed to the room at the end of the hallway. "That one is his. If you tell him that I told you anything, he shouldn't hesitate to share the secret with you. Make sure he knows your mother's maiden name," he explained.

She nodded. This was so strange and none of it made sense, but she just figured that she was in the middle of the puzzle. She could piece it together by herself if she had the chance to just sit down and think for a while.

She rapped gently on the door, and heard a voice from inside. "Who is it?"

"My name is Camille," she replied quietly.

In a short moment, the door was opened by a very handsome young man. He had blond wavy hair and blue eyes, and she had to catch her breath when she saw him. It took her a moment to remember what she was going to ask him. "Pardon my intrusion, but are you Master Gabriel?"

He nodded. "I am. Please, come in," he said, shutting the door behind them. "You must be the new servant girl. Camille, did you say your name was?"

"Yes," she nodded. She cleared her throat, and lowered her voice. "Benjamin told me that I should come to you. He said that you would know something."

Gabriel looked at her carefully. "Did he now? I can't imagine what he's talking about. "Don't you think it's getting a bit late?" he asked, opening the door.

"No, please," she begged, pushing in shut again. "Please, I came here to the Fuego with Captain Jack Sparrow. He is on his way to Diablo's Gate," she whispered.

Gabriel shut the door and locked it. "What do you know about Sparrow and the Gate?" he almost demanded.

She remembered Benjamin telling to make sure that Gabriel knew her mother's maiden name. "Well, nothing really. Aside from the fact that Long John Silver and Jack were brothers, and Long John is dead."

Gabriel narrowed his eyes. "What is your name, girl? Your real name?"

"It's Camille Quartermaine. But you might recognize my mother's maiden name. It was Morgan Sullivan."

Gabriel's eyes widened. "You're a Sullivan!" he exclaimed. "That means that we haven't got much time at all," he said, unlocking his door and pulling it open a crack.

Camille sighed. "Could I have an explanation, please?" she asked impatiently.

"Yes, yes, come on," he said, taking her by the arm. "Quietly," he said, leading her downstairs across to the library. He opened the door and lit the lamps, leading her to a table. "Wait here," he said before closing the door and getting lost among the bookshelves.

She drummed her fingers on the table, keeping her other hand inside her dress and on the little key. Gabriel appeared shortly, with a rolled up piece of parchment. He seated himself across from Camille, looking at her very seriously. "How much do you know about your mother, Miss Camille?"

"Not much. She died when I was very little," Camille said softly.

Gabriel took a deep breath. "Do you know why she died?"

"She was accused of witchcraft."

Gabriel shook his head. "Morgan Sullivan, more recently known as Quartermaine, was a pirate."

Camille gasped. "She was? But I thought that-"

Gabriel put his hand up. "Please, allow me to explain."

Camille nodded anxiously.

"Thank you," he continued. "She was a pirate, along with my mother, Adrienne Thatcher. They were the protectors of Diablo's Gate. The keys have been handed down from mother to daughter, grandmother to granddaughter. It is a woman's job to protect the treasure, Miss Camille. I've tried to tell my sisters, but they refuse to believe such nonsense. So I've taken it upon myself to learn as much about the Gate as possible."

"Gabriel, did you say keys?"

"Yes, there are two. Two families must protect the gate at all times. Two different bloodlines must turn the keys, or else the Gate won't open. That's why Jack and John posed as brothers for a time being. Being related, they couldn't possibly be a threat to the Gate. Well, that and the fact that they aren't women."

"I still don't understand. Shouldn't the key have been in my possession? And yours?"

Gabriel nodded. "It most likely was, until it was stolen from you and given back to you. Your father knew nothing of this."

"So, when John gave me his key to give to Jack, he was really giving me back my own key?" she said, trying to unravel this story from what false information Will had told her.

Gabriel nodded. "There's no stopping them, Camille. And now that they're both in the Fuego they'll come for the five of us."

"But Gabriel, Long John Silver is dead. He died years ago," she assured him.

But he shook his head. "I saw him not three days ago. He is very much alive, Miss Camille."

"Oh, that can't be good," she said, feeling a sort of panic go through her body. Now it all made sense. Jack had merely played the part of seducing her to come to the Fuego. And she had fallen; she had placed herself right in the palm of his hand. Now it was up to her to protect, or open the gate. And she had the key. She placed the little key on the table in front of them, and Gabriel narrowed his eyes again.

"You still have the key?" he said.

"Captain Sparrow gave it back to me. But Silver must have his with him."

"Yes, because it certainly has been missing from the vault for years now. But, I managed to hide this in a much safer place," he said, unrolling the parchment.

Camille stared at it, finally understanding the pirate's adrenaline rush. It was a treasure map. Or at least part of it. The part with the red "x" on it. She looked up at Gabriel, and he looked back with a wide grin on his face. Between the two of them, they had one of the keys and the important part of the map. "Gabriel Thatcher, we are deader than dead," she said.

"Quite."

She went to bed that night, bearing the key still. Gabriel hid the map and went to his room. She collapsed on her bed. There was just too much to think about. Everything had happened at once, but at least she finally knew why all of this had been going on. At least she knew the key parts to the story. And there was no doubt that she was going to find herself aboard a pirate ship again.

She sighed. "Jack Sparrow, what am I going to do to you?" she asked herself, wondering if she was merely an object to him now or if she'd meant anything to him. He was a cold-hearted pirate, but he had been good to her. And everything he had told her whenever she'd been upset…where they lies? She didn't want to think about it anymore. She rolled over and forced herself to go to sleep.