Sam lifted the tankard to his lips. He had no idea how many times he had done that over the preceding days nor did he have any idea how long he had been in this tavern. Days had come and gone and his funds had dwindled -- not that he cared. He had every intention in the world of sitting here and drinking until such time as his last coin ran out, hoping that the alcohol would kill him in the process.
He heard a slap across the room, and his bleary eyes glanced in that direction. He saw two guys and a woman tied up and fighting. He figured that both guys wanted the woman and she didn't care who she got as long as he paid for the night. In the old days, Sam would have gotten up, walked across, and talked to the two guys in an attempt to come to a peaceful solution. Today, he saluted them with his tankard and took another sip.
Who cared if the whole world killed themselves? His family was gone, and he had no reason to live whatsoever! Patty was dead! Paige was dead! Every one he'd ever truly cared about was dead, and Port Royal was gone!
He shook his head in disbelief, remembering the destruction and carnage he had seen floating in the water where Port Royal used to stand. He had no clue as to what had happened. Once upon a time, he could have gone to the Elders and asked and They would have told him, but They were the bastards who took his powers and They had long ago ceased talking to him.
He was just about to order another bottle when one of the guys came sailing across the room and landed in his lap. Sam pushed him off and turned to look just as the second guy attempted to land a punch at the first guy but missed him and hit Sam. Sam was thrown backwards, and his head bumped the wall. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he slumped to the floor.
The woman rushed over and went through his pockets. She took everything that wasn't tied down, and then the three of them left, leaving Sam unconscious in the same spot he had fallen.
Elvira's black eyes stared unseeing at the vast ocean. She could not stop thinking about Wolf -- nor what an idiot she had been. She had thought that, by denying her heart, she could keep him safe. After all, she had laid countless men in the past without Helvira ever paying any attention. She had wanted to love Wolf, but at the same time, she had been too afraid to admit to herself that she already did.
Looking back now, she didn't know when it had happened. It might have been when he'd rescued her or when she'd first laid eyes upon his handsome form. It might have been when they had made love for the first time or any of the times thereafter. It could have been during one of their after-glows when he had held her close to his bare chest and she had listened to his heart beating. She had no ideal when it had happened. She just knew that she loved him, that that love was why Helvira had taken him and was now torturing him with Gods only knew what, and that she might never see him again.
Her head drooped even lower, and her tears increased at the thought that they might not be in time, that she might never see him again, feel his skin against hers, or hear his sexy voice crooning in her ear or howling with their passion. She trembled. She needed some one to hold her, but Wolf was gone and she couldn't go to Delvira after their fight. Jack was nowhere to be seen, and besides, she didn't trust any of the others enough.
Her black fingernails dug into the railing, and she writhed against it. She had never known such agony as the terror and despair that now clawed at her heart. Her black lips trembled as she tried to sing, but the words would not come. Instead, she found herself throwing her head back and, to her utter and complete shock, letting a howl explode. The howl seemed to help, so instead of singing as she had done in the past when upset, she continued howling.
Delvira had been searching for the Irish man who'd had the visions for quite some time, but she had yet to find any sign of him. Finally, in desperation, she stopped a stranger. The woman was one of the most unusual-looking women she'd ever before seen, but Delvira did not stop to take notice of her purple skin or orange hair. "Excuse me," she asked, "where did the Irish man with the visions go?"
"Doyle went to rest, shugah," the woman known as Mouse answered. "Anythin' Ah can help ya with?"
Delvira nodded. "Could you give me directions to your sleeping quarters? I really need to talk with him."
"Bettah yet," Mouse replied, "Ah'll lead ya there."
Delvira followed Mouse down the stairs that led to below deck and through the twisting hallways before Mouse stopped at an open doorway. "He's in there," she told her.
Delvira nodded. "Thank you, . . . ?"
"Mah name's Mouse."
"Thank you, Mouse. I am Delvira." She headed into the sleeping quarters.
Doyle had been tossing ever since he had been carried to his cot. He laid his scroll on the floor beside his bed and dropped the quill on top of it. He had tried, but nothing was working today. Nothing but his Gods-awful migraine. He was just about to turn over again when he heard Mouse talking to some one. He turned to face the door just as he heard the woman say that her name was Delvira. "Enter, fair ladies," he called to them.
A smile lit his face only to turn to a frown as he leaped to his feet and backed up against the nearest wall. What the Hell was she doing here, and why had Mouse led her to him! He panicked so badly that he morphed into his Demon. He hoped that his appearance would be enough to scare the woman, but he doubted it. He had seen her in his visions, and he knew the bitch for what she was! His eyes darted around the room, hoping to spy a weapon.
Mouse's hand went for the hilt of her sword, but she did not draw her weapon yet for she could not see what in the world had spooked Doyle. "Doyle?" she questioned. "What's wrong?"
Delvira's black eyes gazed in surprise at the man who had just revealed the Demon she had sensed about him earlier. She'd never seen one quite like him as his now-green face was completely devoid of horns yet seemed to have a million pins sticking out of it. "My name's Delvira," she told him gently, never once thinking that he had seen her sister. "I am one of Jack Sparrow's people."
"GET AWAY FROM HER, MOUSE!" Doyle yelled. "SHE'S ONE O' 'EM! I SAW HER AN' WHAT SHE'S DOIN' TAE JACK'S PEOPLE! SHE'S ONE O' 'EM!" His hand reached out for the only weapon he could see. He didn't think it would be much use as it was only a board.
Though Delvira had seemed pleasant enough, Mouse had no reason to doubt Doyle. She moved swiftly, sliding away from Delvira and drawing her sword.
Delvira sighed, knowing what had happened. "What you saw, Doyle," she tried to reason with them, "was my sister, Helvira. I know we appear identical, but if you asked Jack or any of the others, they would tell you."
"Give me a sword," Doyle told Mouse, "an' ye gi see if she's tellin' the truth."
Mouse did toss Doyle her second sword but made no movement to leave. "Ah'm not leavin' ya here, Doyle. If she's one o' those, ya wouldn't stand a chance against her." Her sword remained pointed at Delvira's chest.
AndrAla had been helping Enzo prepare the cannons, but a stranger aboard the Frolicking Monkey had caught her attention. She had since come to a stop and had been watching the other woman with concern shining in her blue eyes. "AndrAla," Enzo's voice suddenly sounded from directly behind her, and she jumped. He couldn't help grinning at her reaction as he so rarely managed to spook her. "I can handle things here if you want to go to her," he offered.
"I know her lover must have been taken, Enzo," AndrAla spoke, "and I . . . I can't help thinking how miserable I would be if you had been taken."
"But I wasn't," Matrix replied, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder, "and I'm not going to be."
AndrAla nodded and turned around to look up at him. Her blue eyes smiled up into his good eye. "I'll go see if I can help her." She leaned up, and they shared a kiss before parting again. "Thanks, Sparky."
"Any time." He smiled as he watched her swing over to the other ship, but as she landed and continued walking toward the pale-skinned woman in black, Enzo sighed and his fingers balled into a fist. He knew what she was feeling for he couldn't help thinking the same. If he ever lost his AndrAla . . . He might as well lose his very soul for she was everything to him.
Frisket barked, and he turned back to see his red and yellow dog grinning up at him, his tongue lolled out of one side of his mouth. "You're right, boy. We gotta get back to work."
Ray Tracer had broken his quill and had to return to the sleeping quarters to get another one. His mouth fell open at the sight that greeted him. His beloved Mouse was holding a sword on the female Vampire he'd seen come aboard the ship earlier. He had seen another Vampiress get on the Frolicking Monkey and had wondered what had caused the two to be identical. He had never heard of two Vampires looking the same. "Mouse?" he asked and then noticed that Doyle had a sword on her too. "What's goin' on?" He wondered what she could have done in such a short time to get into trouble.
Delvira started to turn her head toward the new voice, but Mouse's words froze her. "If ya go fer him, Ah sweah Ah'll slit ya in two! Ray, this one claims to be one o' Jack's people, but Doyle saw her in his vision hurtin' the others!"
"I don't know where Jack got them from, but he's got two of them and they look exactly the same," Ray told her. "Unless she's done something really bad, she is a guest aboard the ship. Ma'am," he asked, looking at Delvira, "do you have an explanation?"
"I already told them," Delvira replied, remaining perfectly still except for her black lips, "but they did not believe me, not that I can blame them." Her eyes moved to Doyle. "If your Demon has the sense of smell that most do, sniff me. Smell me for lies," she challenged him, "and I promise you will find none. I am one of three identical triplets. The other one who Ray saw is Elvira, but the one you saw, Doyle, is the evil one amongst us. Her name is Helvira." And the bitch has my husband, she couldn't help thinking.
Doyle lowered his sword and stepped closer so that he could smell the woman. "She speaks the truth," he said and handed his sword back to Mouse, hilt first. "I am sorry fer the misunderstandin', but I will take nae chances wit' me people. Come. Sit down, an' tell us why ye need our help."
Ray decided to stay. He wanted to hear this conversation, and as soon as Mouse had sheathed her swords, his hand reached out to touch hers.
Mouse took Ray's hand. "Ah'm sorry too," she apologized, looking at Delvira, "but Ah didn't have any reason not to trust Doyle an' didn't really know ya."
Delvira forced a pleasant smile upon her lips. "It's all right," she assured them. "Believe me, I'm used to being mistaken for Helvira. I wanted to talk to you, though, Doyle," she told the Irish man, walking across the room and sitting on the cot before his. "I knew you had the visions but didn't really know what you saw?"
"It's nae good," he told her as he morphed back to his human form. "Yer sister has four men, an' she is torturin' 'em at the same time. I can't tell ye exactly what she's doin' except that it is extremely painful tae each an' that she's enjoyin' e'ery second o' it. She's wearin' somethin' shiny around her neck, but I can't get a clear picture o' it."
Delvira nodded. She was not surprised that Helvira had chosen four prisoners and knew that two of them were, beyond any doubt, Jareth and Wolf. "Did you see the men?" she asked him. "I know that one is blonde and that there's a brunette Werewolf, but do you have any clue on the others?"
"One's short, an' there's two brunette Werewolves, nae one."
Delvira nodded again, her movement slower this time as a pale hand subconsciously rubbed her temples. "It must be Wolverine and Brendan. They're two of Jack's family," she explained.
"And the othahs?" Mouse asked quietly.
"My husband," Delvira replied, her voice sounding strange as she fought to keep her emotions in check, "and my sister's boyfriend."
Ray pulled Mouse into his arms. He knew how he'd feel if some one had his Mouse. "We'll get them back," he told Delvira. "We'll help you." He reached out with one hand and touched her gently on the shoulder.
She nodded, and her moist black eyes turned to peer at his unusual glasses. "Thank you," she told them. "I know you've volunteered to help us even though you don't know what you're getting into, and believe me, I appreciate it from the bottom of my heart."
"It's what friends are fer, shugah, an' any friend o' Jack Sparrow's a friend o' ours." Mouse's arms wrapped around Ray's as she held to him. She didn't even want to think of what would happen if she were in Delvira's shoes and he was the one taken.
Looking back to Doyle, Delvira questioned, "Did you see any of the others who have taken our people?"
"People that I din't knae. Haven't seen 'em before, so I'm nae sure who they are. There's one thing about the little man. His hands're bleedin'. I din't knae what she did tae him. I fear that he may bleed to death 'cause there's a lot o' blood."
Delvira nodded. "She . . . did something to his claws. Probably took his hands or intends to."
"There are some strange creatures I have nae seen before. Their screams fill me ears as one o' 'em was ripped apart an' his parts thrown everywhere but especially at the blonde man." Doyle looked at Delvira, hoping she could explain what he had just seen.
Delvira would not meet his eyes; her gaze was focused on the floor of the deck instead. "One of my people," she told him quietly, "and the blonde man is my husband, Jareth."
"There's somethin' special about yer sister. Evil rolls off o' her in waves, an' yet somethin' eats at the heart o' her." Again, he looked at Delvira, hoping she could explain what he was feeling and seeing.
"Her heart was taken once."
"She has no heart!" Ray asked. "How does she live!"
"I don't know how she did it," Delvira admitted, "but I know that she somehow managed to retrieve her heart. She should also be stinking as it was dropped in the Bog of Eternal Stench, but there is not even a smell."
"Di ye knae how tae bring her down?" Doyle asked. "Is she a stronger Vampire than ye?"
"Not a stronger Vampire," Delvira corrected, "but a stronger Sorceress, and no." She shook her head. "I have tried many times in the past. As I said, her heart was even taken. But she always manages to find a way to come back."
"Fer every evil thing, there is a way tae destroy it. We must find a way tae destroy her before we gi tae her. I'm nae a fighter, Delvira. I probably couldn't even fight me way out o' a wet papersack, but I will do what I can tae help."
"We will go with you, mate," Ray told her. "Perhaps between the four of us, we can bring her down."
Delvira looked at each in turn, and she allowed her tears to enter her eyes as she sensed the honesty in each. "She is a vengeful creature," she warned them. "If she knows that you have helped us and manages to live, which she most likely will even if we think we have killed her, she will haunt you and do all that she can to hurt you."
"We've had that before," Mouse told her, "but ya need help, shugah, an' that's what we're here for."
Sam's eyes drifted open to what he thought was the most beautiful, glittery thing he'd ever seen in his life. It had a voice and a woman's face. What was her problem? Why couldn't she just leave him alone and let him continue to dream of a happier time and place? "Leave me alone, wench!" he finally managed to get out as she had been busily hitting him with a glove in the face. He did not notice that she was barely even touching the glove.
Thunder suddenly rattled the windows even as the woman yelled, "SAMUEL WILDER, YOU WILL NOT TAKE THAT TONE WITH ME, AND YOU WILL GET YOUR LAZY BEHIND OFF OF THIS FILTHY FLOOR!"
"Floor?" he asked. "How'd I get down here?" His hazy mind took him back to the episode that had occurred just before he had been knocked out, and his hand raced for his pocket. "Damn bitch! She cleaned me out!"
"You have more important things to worry about right now," the blonde woman told him. "Like the fact that your daughter and her sisters are still alive and in desperate need of your help."
"I know you're crazy now!" he told her. "Port Royal is gone. I saw the debris. No one was left alive."
The woman sighed in frustration and shook her head. "It's a long story," she told him, "but the Halliwell sisters did make it out alive. They and others have been kidnapped, however, and Paige is dying." She hoped that bit of information would get the drunkard to moving.
Sam slowly got to his feet and stared at the woman who he could now see was wearing some kind of lacy, flimsy thing that left little to the imagination. "Just who are you, and what makes you think you know what happened to my family?"
The woman rolled her eyes and humphed but then looked at him again. "Think for a minute, Sam. I know your name. I know your girls' names, and I know what you are -- or, rather, were. You were the White Lighter of Patricia Halliwell, and you lost your wings because of your romance with her."
"That was a long time ago," Sam told her, "and I haven't got the foggiest clue as to who you are or why you're so skimpily clad in this establishment. Don't you know where you are and what these man would love to do to you?" He sat down on the bench.
"Sam, take a second," she told him. "Look around you."
Sam's eyes drifted around and saw that every one was frozen in place. The drink being poured from a bottle was even frozen in mid-air. "So you're a powerful Witch," he told her. "That still doesn't mean I'm worth a damn. I can't do anything to help my family! I can't even help myself!" He glared balefully at her.
She sighed as her foot stamped the floor. She had had enough of dull and dumb White Lighters. "Samuel Wilder, My name is Aphrodite. I am the Goddess of Love, and I am here to offer you the chance of a lifetime."
He rubbed his eyes and looked at Her again. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, and he did believe in Gods once upon a time. "You're Aphrodite? You're so beautiful! I never thought I'd get to actually see one of You! You can help me rescue my daughters?"
"If you'll pull your mess together here, I can make a trip to Daddy and He'll return your powers."
"I don't have any money left. They cleaned me out."
"Where you're going, you'd probably lose it any way."
"I can't take a bath without money. Can you . . . help me?"
"With pleasure!" She waved a hand, and a gentle blast rippled through him.
Sam could not believe that he was clean again! He had hated being dirty, but he'd just not had the willpower to clean up. Now not only was he cleaned, but he smelled good! He looked down at the clothes he was now wearing and found that they were all white and in a very strange design. His shoes sparkled up at him. He was about to thank Her, but his eyes could not find Her.
He took one step and found that he was no longer in the tavern. In fact, he was flying through the air. He had almost forgotten the thrill of flying, and now he closed his eyes and savored it, hoping he would not find himself, upon landing, in a pit of fire.
Aphrodite's voice drifted to him on the wind. "When you arrive at your new destination, hide until I come. If they find you, refuse to speak to any but Jack Sparrow or Xena and then tell them I sent you."
He nodded in agreement even as he pondered why he was going to meet the infamous Jack Sparrow and hoped that he would not make him walk the plank!
Elvira had howled until her throat had hurt and she could no longer continue. Then she had collapsed against the railing and buried her head in the shield of her arms. She did not move from that position even when she heard some one approaching and only barely moved when a woman called out to her.
"Miss? Excuse me? Miss?" AndrAla called again. When the woman still did not respond, she moved closer to her back and tried again. "I'm . . . sorry, but I couldn't help noticing how depressed you are and . . . Well, I know I'd feel the same way if it had been my lover who was taken, and I was just wondering if I might be able to do something to help?"
Elvira changed her position so that the side of her head now lay on her crossed arms and her face could be seen. She wasn't sure what to tell the other woman. How could anybody help? How could they stop Helvira? How could they possibly kill a bitch who was back even after her heart had been removed? She remembered Jack being so determined that they would find and rescue their family in time, but she had not seen him since the ships had pulled out.
"I really would like to help," AndrAla spoke again as she walked to where the Vampiress could see her. "Do you need some blood or something?"
Though she was thirsty, Elvira dismissed the offer of blood as she studied the blue-haired woman's freckled face. Her smile was kind, and her eyes shone with honest generosity, all traits Elvira was not used to. "Have you . . . Have you seen Jack Sparrow?"
"Not for a while," AndrAla replied. "Why?"
"He . . . was going to train me," Elvira admitted. "I don't know how to fight."
AndrAla thought quickly. She didn't want to overstep Captain Sparrow but did want to help the woman before her. "How are you throwing at things?"
"Pretty damn good," Elvira answered, surprised at the question. "Why?"
AndrAla pulled a starfish from her hair and showed it to Elvira. "This is one of my personal weapons, but I have more of them. It's kind of like a boomerang. You aim it; you throw it. It hits its target and comes back to your hand. Would you like to try it?"
Elvira eyed the weapon. Its ends seemed to be rather sharp. Maybe she could still get some training in, something that she could use in her desperate plea to save Wolf. She nodded and pulled herself from the railing. She dried her eyes before looking back at the leather-clad woman. "I would."
AndrAla smiled. "Okay. I'll show you. My name's AndrAla, by the way."
"Elvira." The answer came just a second before AndrAla began her lesson.
It had been a long time since Kennedy had spent a day as frantic as this one had turned out to be, but it seemed that every time she turned her back, her charge fell over board again. "I don't know why in the Hell I had to get stuck with you," she muttered as she lugged the soaked dork up over the railing. "I swear, every damn time I so much as blink, there you go again! What the heck's wrong with you!"
"My Phoebe is dying, and I can't do a damn thing to help her! My family's out there! They're dying! I've never been so helpless in all my life! I know I'm clumsy, but I just can't help myself! I get to thinking about them, and there I go again! I think I'm gonna drown out here! At least I took care of the Book and it's not getting wet!"
Kennedy gave a frustrated sigh as she shoved her dark, wet hair out of her face and climbed over the railing. She leaned backwards against it even as she dismissed Joxer's words about whatever Book he had hidden as his Phoebe simply being as concerned with books as her own Willow was. Kennedy was still angry with Joxer, but when she looked down at him, her anger began to ebb for she was gazing into the face of a man who had lost everything. "We'll get them back," she tried to assure him even while wondering how she was going to manage to keep stopping him from drowning until then.
"Thank you," Joxer sniffled, "but I don't think I'll ever see my beautiful Phoebe again! Just let me drown!" he pleaded. "The world would be better off without me!"
"I can't," Kennedy started. "The Captain ordered me to keep your butt safe, and she'd make me walk the plank if I didn't. Besides," she continued at the look on his face, "what would your Phoebe say when we rescued her and you were nowhere to be seen?"
Joxer looked up with a slight smile showing. "Do you really think we can get her back? I need a sword so I can fight for her when we get there!"
There was no way Kennedy was letting this boy get a hold of a sword, so she ignored that and answered his other comment instead. "You haven't seen this crew really pissed off yet, Joxer. I have, and I know they're getting ready to go down that path again." She tried not to think of what would happen if Willow were to get out of control with her magick again. "Whatever bitches have your people, we won't stop until they're dead and you and the others have your family back again."
Joxer dashed his tears away and shakily got to his feet. "I'll try not to fall overboard again. I know I've been a pain in your side all day, but I just realized the reason why I'm falling out there is because I'm leaning too heavily on the rail and then . . . the boat moves funny, and I fall over! I promise not to lean on the rail any more."
"Let's just get you away from the sides," Kennedy said, throwing an arm over his shoulders and using that advantage to lead him toward the center of the ship. Her mind went back to his need for a sword. As dangerous as he would be to himself with one, he'd be in even more danger from those bitches without one, and with his Phoebe having been taken, there was no way they'd be able to convince him to stay out of the battle. "Tell me," she asked, "has anybody ever actually trained you?"
"I trained myself," Joxer said proudly, "when I was growing up using a sword left to me by my Grandfather. He was in the guard, but he got killed and the only thing I got was his sword."
Kennedy didn't need to see Joxer with a sword to know just what a louse he'd be. "Maybe we could get a couple of swords and I could show you some new . . . techniques?" she proposed, choosing her words carefully.
"Great, and I can show you just how good I am with a sword!"
"Riiight . . . " Kennedy drew out the word as she steered him toward the armory.
Lex leaned heavily upon the railing, gazing out to sea. He had been one of the constant ones running to Doyle's side every time the man had a vision, and he seemed to be having plenty of them. Try as he might, however, he could not hear anything about the kids. He had heard parts about Faith that had made him sick to his stomach, and once mention was made of Clark. Were his kids dead?
He felt so helpless he didn't know what to do any more. He sighed deeply even as tears began to run down his face. The more he had found out about his father, the more he had become his one true hatred, but now the ones who had taken his family had even replaced the hatred he felt for his father. He would have loved to have been a fighting machine set on kill so that he could terminate all the bitches who had his family.
He sank to his knees, doing something he hadn't done for a long time. Words began to tumble from his mouth and he scarcely knew what he said, but he prayed and his words came straight from his heart and winged their way heavenward to fall upon the hard-hearted Father of the Gods.
Zeus had been trying hard to pretend indifference as to what was going on below. After all, the funny monkey creatures were there for His entertainment, and if they happened to be doing something He didn't want to see at the time, He merely turned His head and looked in another direction. Long years before, He had had to take a stand and allow man to have his own free will. Otherwise, He knew His children would be constantly intervening when men were doing stupid things.
Now He knew for certain that the mess that He had only turned his face from had gotten worse and that His most favorite daughter was on Her way. He was not looking forward to the scene He knew would happen if He refused, and yet, looking into His heart, He did not want to refuse Her. Just this once, He was going to turn His back, give Her permission to do what needed to be done to save Her people and then, when some of the others went to complaining, He could say that He wasn't watching that particular episode.
He already knew some of Her plans and approved even though He'd never say it. He thought it was long overdue to get that sorry White Lighter back on his feet and with his wings again. He stood expectantly, waiting for Her arrival, and as soon as She materialized, He smiled at Her and said the words He knew She longed to hear, "Yes. Do whatever You can to save Your people. I give You the power to restore Samuel Wilder's White Lighter powers, and I will not be watching."
Aphrodite quickly recovered Her surprise and gave Her Father Her most brilliant smile. "Thank You, Daddy!" She squealed and vanished before He could change His mind.
"You're a natural!" AndrAla announced, grinning from ear to ear, some time after she had started training Elvira with her starfish. "Why don't you come over to Destiny's Ghost and I'll set you up with some?"
"I never thought a weapon could be so easy," Elvira admitted in awe. "The only thing I've ever been able to fight with before, besides a catfight, is a high heel!"
"That's probably why," AndrAla commented. "The techniques are not too different."
The women had barely started to head for the other ship when Destiny's Ghost's dinner bell rang. "Why don't you join us?" AndrAla offered.
"I . . . can't," Elvira had to decline. "I don't eat regular human food."
AndrAla nodded. "I'll bring you some starfish afterwards then," she promised. Elvira's mouth fell open in surprise as her new friend walked away for she found herself staring at scales that ran down the lower part of AndrAla's slender back and disappeared into her pants!
Hank was finishing up the last touches of the final drawing. It was of some very interesting creatures that he'd like to get a chance to study. What had Jack called them? Goblins? That could not be right. They had to have some other kind of name. Hank had seen their pictures before on a cave dwelling, and even they were called something else. There had to be another name for these people. He figured that they were a very ancient tribe. He looked at Jack. "Are you certain this is every one?"
Jack got to his feet and stretched before answering. He had not realized how long he had been sitting still, but he felt an incredible thirst and, for the first time in his life, he was not reaching for rum. His thirst was for one of Crys' snow treats. "I believe, to the best of my knowledge, Hank, that is the last one, but there are a lot of those and some are male and some are female. That's why I told you the two different descriptions. Most of them look like the males, and I've only seen a couple of the females." He walked over and looked at the pictures Hank had been drawing. "You've done an incredible job, Hank! They look just as though you had drawn them from real life!"
Hank added the last picture to the pile and took a moment to clean his glasses. "Thank you, my friend. I only hope that the crew can memorize these before we engage in battle."
"It's a lot of people," Jack admitted. "I hope they can too. I don't want to lose any of them, not even the Goblins."
It was at that moment that they heard the ship's dinner bell ring. Jack looked at Hank inquiringly, and Beast smiled in response. "Dinner is served."
"Ah, yes! It's been forever since I've actually heard one of those dinner bells," Jack told him, "and the last time my ship's bell was rung, it wasn't a good thing! I lost a crew member, and we lost our ships."
Phong had already wheeled out, leaving the door open in his wake. Hank now gestured for Jack to go ahead as he asked, "Would you care to discuss the matter?"
Jack grinned at the way Hank had phrased it and then nodded. "Yes. It's a very interesting telling. I'll tell the whole assembly at dinner." He thought to himself, Hey! I used an expensive word! I wonder if Hank even noticed?
Spike had been watching the door to the cabin he shared with Kyna for some time when the dinner bell rang. He waited, still watching it and waiting impatiently for it to open, as the majority of the rest of the crew rushed by. Still, the door did not open. He walked over to it and pressed his ear to the wood. He listened intently for a moment, but all he could pick up was Kyna's shallow breathing and quietness.
Spike cracked the door open and edged just far enough inside so that he could see his love. He found her sitting in the middle of their floor, her legs crossed in front of her and her head bowed. He wondered if she had not heard the bell but did not want to interrupt her if her spirit was not there. He concentrated and, upon sensing her spirit, quietly called her name. "Kyna?"
Kyna's head lifted at the voice of the man she loved. "William," she spoke in response, and he started moving immediately forward as he heard the sadness in her voice and saw the tears in her eyes, "I can not sense them. I -- I fai --"
He took her hands in his and gently drew her to her feet. One of his hands released hers, and he pressed a finger to her tender lips. "You're not a failure, love, and you haven't failed anybody. We'll get to them. Some way or another, we'll find them, and we'll rescue them." He drew her into his arms and let her head rest against his chest for a moment. "I promise you that, pet. We'll make it in time, and we'll rescue them while they're still alive -- or undead."
"William, you know who's on that ship . . . "
"I do," he told her, lifting her chin so that he could gaze into her almond eyes, "and I'll deal with her. Promise. She won't take me down that road again. You're the only woman for me. It just took me a while to realize that."
Kyna smiled sadly. "And I to realize that we are soul mates, as well."
He smirked.
"What?" she asked.
"I still can't get used to that term," he admitted. "Never thought the whole soul mates concept would apply to me." He ran his fingers through her long, black hair.
"Nor did I think that I'd ever find a good Vampire -- let alone fall in love with one." She leaned up, pressing her lips to his.
He drank deeply of her for a long moment, then released her. "You need to go eat, pet. Gonna need all the energy you can get."
Kyna nodded. "And you?"
"I'll find Raziel. We'll get some blood and watch the decks," he assured her.
She smiled, kissed him again, and left.
Spike remained alone in their cabin for a moment as he thought of the coming battle. It had been a long time since he had last seen Drusilla, but he was more than ready to give the bitch her payback for wasting so many years of his life and almost tearing he and Kyna apart forever more. He thought of Angel and shivered at the thought of all the tortures he knew the two insane Vampire bitches were putting him through. "We're coming," he whispered under his breath. "We're coming, and nothing's gonna stop us." With that, he swept out of the room, heading for Raziel and as much blood as he could hold.
