I woke up in the middle of the night with a growling stomach. I remembered that I hadn't eaten much the night before due to my anger at the patrons of the inn and their...creative minds.

Deciding I was too hungry to try to fall back asleep, I quietly pushed the covers away, sitting up and swinging my feet over the side of the bed. I stood up slowly in the dark, realizing my lantern had burned out. I couldn't see a thing.

Sure that I would run into something, I knelt on the ground to feel around for my boots. I found them after a few moments of searching--luckily, they weren't far from the bed.

I pulled them on my feet, nearly toppling over. I wasn't about to give up though--I didn't trust the cleanliness of the floor.

Next, I walked slowly towards the direction of the fireplace, hoping to find the chair that I had hung my belt on. I found it, alright. There was a loud screech as the chair was shoved backwards on the wooden floor as I ran into it. Fortunately, it didn't fall over, and I grabbed my belt--or rather, belts, as the two were still attached. All I had to do was step into the bottom one and wear the other one like a sash.

I didn't want to go anywhere without them, not since my episode with the pirates at the water pump. Besides, I thought they looked pretty cool.

Once my accessories were in place, my eyes had started to adjust to the darkness. I could just see the closed door that separated my room from Jack's.

I crept towards it, pausing every once in a while and toeing the ground so I wouldn't trip on the threadbare rug in front of it. I opened the door slowly, not wanting to wake Jack. I imagined he wouldn't be too happy being woken up after a long day of training an almost-incompetent, clumsy fifteen-year-old girl to fight.

I shut the door quietly, relieved that it didn't creak. Maybe this is more trouble then it's worth, I thought as I snuck across his small room. Maybe I should just go back to bed...

The thought flew from my mind as my stomach made another painful rumble.

Screw that, I'm hungry!

I hurried out of the room, wide-eyed and grimacing as Jack grunted in his sleep, no doubt hearing my stomach.

Once out of his room, I felt along the wall to find the staircase. I ran into the side table Jack had pushed to the side of the hallway on our first night here and nearly sent it tumbling down the stairs. I grabbed it, nearly falling over myself, and set it upright.

"Whew," I said under my breath. "There better be something good to eat down there!"

I made my way down the stairs, welcoming the light of the fire and the few lanterns scattered about the room. I glanced around for the innkeeper, but he was nowhere in sight.

I jumped the last few steps, glancing around the room. Only one table was occupied, one in the far corner of the room, furthest from the stair case. The one man of the three sitting there who was facing my direction looked up as I entered the room. It was too dark where he was sitting to see his expression, so I just smiled sheepishly and turned away.

I went to the desk, hoping to see the innkeeper sneaking a drink from a bottle of rum behind it, as he was often doing. I peered behind the desk, but found no drunken innkeeper. Perhaps he was in the basement, whose door was behind the desk--I had noticed him disappearing into it many times before. I had assumed it was his private alcohol storage room. I looked around for something to get his attention with, not wanting to barge in on him.

"Uh..."

I picked up the large old book he used to keep track of the people staying at his inn, deciding to bang that against the desk. Before I could take action, however, I glanced down at the logs.

Strange, I thought, peering closer, These aren't names, these are dates and times...

I noticed that next to the recorded times where phrases like, "Checked in", "Went to bed", and "Left for training". Frowning, I traced my finger down the entries, scanning them all. I realized that the entries were all notes on my actions, from "left to get water" and "returned from basement w/ J. S.; got angry at everyone".

Confused, I leafed through the other pages of the book, hoping to find a similar log on Jack or another of the patrons, but I had no such luck. The innkeeper had been keeping close tabs on me, and I had never even realized it.

Shocked, I placed the book back on the desk, trying to stay calm. I didn't want to attract the attention of the three men in the corner--but it seemed I already had.

In my discovery of the book, I hadn't noticed the men rise from their places in the corner and stand behind me, preventing me from escaping to the door or the staircase.

I turned around slowly, terrified. I stared up at the man in front of me--and realized that it was the innkeeper.

"You!" I said, eyes wide.

"Yes, me," he said, the first time I had heard him speak. His voice was deep and growly, sending a shiver down my spine. "I have a name, you know. Spraggins."

The other men laughed at my frightened expression, and I recognized them as the two men I had dumped mud on at the water pump the other day. But where was the black-haired pirate?

"Funny, isn't it, how you could spend such a long time around pirates who were tryin' to catch ya?" Spraggins continued, leering down at me. "I'd say I did a pretty good job of keeping undercover, wouldn't you, boys?"

The two men laughed again. I wondered if they had the brain capacity to think for themselves. I kept my cheeky comments to myself, though, because I was sure the men would kill me if I made them angry.

I backed up into the desk, bumping into it lightly. I couldn't help but feel that this had been happening a lot lately.

If I could only jump over the desk, I might have a chance to run for the staircase! I thought quickly.

I turned around to prepare a leap just as two men came up from the basement, hauling a chest up the stairs.

"Ah, you've caught her, then?" asked one of the men. I recognized him as the black-haired pirate who had confronted me yesterday. I recognized the other one as the huge man I had met in the tavern my first night in Tortuga.

I froze in horror as he grinned at me.

"Didn't think you'd be seeing me again, did ya now, missy?" he growled, dropping his side of the chest on the floor. As the black-haired pirate dropped his end, too, I realized it was the chest Jack had had to shove out of the way of our little dueling ring last night.

"Sorry we took so long, some bloke moved it and it took us a while to find it in the dark," the dark-haired man said, kicking the chest. It barely moved, and I guessed that it was filled with the pirates' treasure.

"It doesn't matter. Just let him out now; we don't need him in there anymore," said Spraggins.

The huge man drew his sword. I backed away instinctively, even though the desk was still between us. He pounded the heavy lock on the chest with the hilt of his sword and kicked open the lid.

Inside there was a frail old man, curled up into a little ball.

"Is he dead?" Spraggins asked. I could tell he didn't really care for the man's well-being.

"Nah, unconscious by the looks of him," said the black-haired man, looking down at the old man with disdain. "Guess you hit him a little too hard, Jerry!"

The huge man guffawed, looking pleased with himself.

"Will you shut up!" Spraggins hissed, spraying me with spit. "There are still people sleeping up there!" He jabbed his hand towards the ceiling.

"Still care about your 'patrons'?" the black-haired man said, smirking.

"No, if anyone wakes up, they might hear us taking her away," Spraggins replied scathingly.

I immediately felt like an idiot. Why didn't I just scream! I thought furiously. I took a deep breath.

Spraggins seized me and clapped a hand around my mouth. "Heh heh. We'll have none of that, little missy."

Terrified that he might kill me and revolted by his smell, I stayed still. It was hard, though; the smell of rum was so strong on him that I felt a little dizzy.

"Now, if you don't stay quiet, we'll kill you," Spraggins said into my ear.

"Eh?" said Jerry stupidly.

Everyone glared at him. "Oh...right," he said quickly. "Keep quiet, or we'll kill ya!" he said, raising his sword again.

I saw the black-haired pirate roll his eyes. Spraggins groaned a little.

"You're gonna come with us, girlie, nice and quiet like," Spraggins continued, his deep, raspy voice grating into my ear. "Is that clear?" he asked.

I nodded, wishing he would get his hands off me.

"Good," he said, stroking my hair. "Now, when I let go, you'll do as I say. Understand?"

He let go of me, running one long-nailed hand along my waist and passing the other over my hair. Without even stopping to shudder, I bolted for the door between the gap between him and one of the cronies.

I heard a crash of glass and felt a horrid, sharp pain at the back of my head. I felt myself falling forward, and then I blacked out.

When I awoke, the first thing I noticed was the pain throbbing through my whole head. Groaning, I slowly raised my hands to my temple, feeling the blood pumping through my veins. Then I remembered what had happened.

I sat up dizzily, head still throbbing, and moved a hand to the back of my head. Sure enough, I felt a scab forming on my scalp and dried blood crusting on my hair.

I looked around and realized I was in what looked like a jail cell--no, it was the brig of a ship! The heaving floor told me more than my surroundings could in that respect. I felt a wave of nausea hit me, but miraculously, I kept my food down.

Food... I thought. Damn, I'm hungry!

As if in answer to my thoughts, the door to the room my cell was in swung open, creaking ominously. I whipped around, only to bring a hand to my head pathetically as it made another horrific throb.

I looked up, seeing Spraggins wearing a black pirate's jacket and a smirk. He was holding a lantern, and I noticed he was fully armed with a sword and a pistol.

Then, another man walked in. I knew this was the captain right away by his giant hat, complete with a ridiculously long feather. The hat had been purple once, but years of sun damage and sea salt had darkened and dulled its color. The feather was black and fluffy, and looked new. The man's hat-and-feather combination made me think of a very cheap pimp.

His long, black jacket was well-worn, but had no holes. Overall, his clothes were well-cared for, unlike his hat. The silver buckles of the jacket glinted in the light of the lantern, sending shimmers of light across the room. The rest of his outfit was black, too: black pants, black boots, black belt (no, not the karate kind). He was armed with an incredibly long sword and a long black pistol.

I stared at the man, fear flooding through me. I wondered if he was going to kill me.

The man knelt to my level, his face close to the bars. I noted that his scruffy brown beard had strands of gray in it; the same with his hair. I judged him to be in his early forties.

Great job, Monica, I thought sarcastically. Now that you know his age, you'll be able to plan a great escape, huh?

Finally the man spoke. "Do you know why you're here?"

He spoke in a low voice, and I thought at first that he didn't want Spraggins to hear him. But as the conversation continued, I realized that this was just his style of talking: keeping it quiet and intimate, leaving the other person hanging on to every word, whether intentionally or not.

I shook my head silently, not saying anything in case he got angry for my speaking out of turn or something. Hey, I saw Barbossa's first mate slap Elizabeth in Curse of the Black Pearl. I wasn't taking any chances with this guy.

The man glanced back at Spraggins, who gave him a sheepish smile and shrugged apologetically. I saw the man roll his eyes before turning back to me.

"You are Captain Jack Sparrow's daughter, are you not?"

I weighed my options. I was most likely here because these men thought I was his daughter, so if I said yes, I would probably learn more about why I was here. On the other hand, if I said no, there was a very good chance they would kill me if I wasn't who they thought I was. Which wasn't even true.

Before I could confuse myself any more with thoughts of answers to help me live longer, I nodded cautiously.

The man smiled at me. "He will miss you very much when he realizes you're gone, won't he?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess," I said slowly, raising myself to my knees. What the hell was this guy playing at?

He frowned. "Your accent..." he said.

Before he could continue, I said, "Don't worry about it--long story. You were saying?"

When he didn't answer immediately, I felt my blood run cold. Had I pissed him off? I inhaled and waited for his reaction.

He just made a little "hmph" noise and half-smiled. "Do you think your father will come looking for you?"

My eyes widened as I realized what he meant. He was using me as bait to get to Jack! Great, now I was in a bit of a pickle.

"Um...actually, I'm not sure," I said truthfully, frowning. "We weren't that close..."

I looked up at the man hesitantly for his reaction. He was staring at the wall behind me, apparently lost deep in thought. He took a breath but hesitated, as if he were trying to find the right words.

"What's your name?"

Startled, I stammered. "Uh...Monica. Sparrow," I added for good measure. I had thought he was going to say something about the possibility of Jack not coming for me.

"My name's Captain Decklan. I think you've already met my first mate, Spraggins," he said, nodding towards the man I had thought to be the drunken innkeeper. He smirked at me as his captain mentioned his name.

"Yeah, we've met," Spraggins said, leering at me. "And if she behaves like she did last time, I'll skewer her!"

He demonstrated with a quick jab of his sword. I jumped, frightened.

"Calm yourself, Spraggins," Captain Decklan said. "She'll not be any trouble for us...will ya, now?"

I shook my head quickly. No, I'll be a good little hostage, I thought. At least until I can find a way out of here...

"Good. That's what I thought. Until we meet again, then, Miss Sparrow," he said, touching his hat lightly. He stood up and left, taking the lantern and setting it down on the floor next to the bars. With a last polite smile, he and Spraggins left.

In shock, I stayed silent. This is crazy, I thought. How can they honestly believe I'm Jack's daughter? That was just to get Giselle away!

As I sat there thinking, I heard voices coming from beyond the door.

"Don't threaten her again, you little piece of mucus," I heard Decklan's muffled voice snarled.

"Why not, Cap'n? You know I don't mean anything by it," Spraggins said.

"I know you don't, but there's no need to scare her!"

"Aww, come now, cap'n!" Spraggins pleaded. "Just a little cut, to keep her in line..."

"No!" Decklan barked, losing his cool. "No..." he said more calmly. "If we hurt her, Sparrow might not want her back. And then he'll have a bone to pick with us as well."

"You mean, besides the fact that we kidnapped his daughter."

I heard a SMACK and a cry from Spraggins.

"I'll have no more of your cheek, maggot," I heard Decklan growl. "Jack will want her safely back in one piece. That means no hitting, no beating, and definitely no cutting."

"Aww..."

"Now get back to work, muttonhead, or it'll be you I'll skewer!"

I heard heave footsteps as Decklan and Spraggins returned above deck. I lay down in my cell, contemplating what I had just heard.

So they're not allowed to hurt me, I thought. That means I'll be able to get away with anything! And Decklan was just trying to get on my good side, I bet. Still, he doesn't want me hurt...but not for very good reasons...I wonder if I'll be able to trust him?

I seriously doubted it.

I rolled over onto my back, placing my hands behind my head so the cut wouldn't get dirty. Maybe this won't be as bad as I thought. This will definitely help me get the hell out of here and back to Jack!

I stopped at the thought. This is crazy, I thought. How can they honestly think I'm his daughter? That was just a lie to get Giselle out of the way! I can't believe it's gone this far. And now I have to continue with the lie to save my own skin...well, I guess that's the life of a pirate!

I fell asleep, dreaming of breaking out of this jail and somehow returning to the Black Pearl. The problem was, how the hell was I going to manage that?