"Dark night."
Jack shrugged, but inwardly wondered at just how dark it was. By the heavens, if it were that he were not feeling, despite his doubts, tremors of trepidation, he'd marvel at their surroundings, for he'd not ever once sailed through a night as dark as was that around them. The moon had disappeared—perhaps behind a cloud or perhaps not—and there were no stars to gaze upon. All was black to the eye. What was sky and sea there was no telling—no hints of indigo wash or silver foam at all. Both were as thick as velvet and went on forever in an endless veil of darkness.
The crew of the Black Pearl had all marveled at it. Some had shaken—of course, Shakes shook of his own will and so the tick certainly could not be marked by Jack as fear—some had shivered their timbers, and Cotton's parrot had taken to the crow's nest in apparent distress as above he squawked near all the worries Jack had assumed no one had once heard him mutter. Gibbs had seemed less than pleased with the whatsabouts, remarking several times how being able to see nothing could certainly be considered bad luck, and by the twisted look upon Will Turner's face—which Jack had to squint till his eyes were but slits to see—Bootstrap's son seemed to agree with the sailor.
"Nothing to worry about."
Below he heard quite distinctly the low hiss of Anamaria's voice. In no uncertain terms she declared the captain incapable of such position for all his mental inadequacies. But, of course, such malice from her mouth was not completely unusual and so Jack only glared quickly at the darkness from where he was sure the hiss had sounded.
"Are you so certain, Jack?" Turner laid a hand o'er his lazing on the rudder's spoke and commanded his gaze up as unseeing as it was. "How can you know? There is only darkness here. We cannot see anything. For all you know..." Will faltered, his own gaze falling away briefly only to return staunch and serious upon the pirate, no doubt. "For all you know we could be headed right for rocks."
"Well," Jack said succinctly, fumbling for and tying a halyard around the spoke and folding his arms o'er his chest, "we're not." His gaze narrowed upon the shadow of the man before him who had suddenly and without warning turned into his well meaning and innocent yet insulting father. "Because for all you know..." He trailed off, suddenly remembering that he'd a lantern with which to see and so hoisted it up. "You seem not to know what all I know."
Will's brow crinkled and eased. He folded his own arms and jutted out his chin. "Enlighten me then."
"First of all," said Jack, raising his own chin so as not to allow Will any more height than he aboard his own ship, "let's think sensibly, son." Ignoring the skeptical look on Will's face, he went on. "Beings that I love me precious Pearl much as you know me to, do you honestly think I would be as foolish to knowingly put her hallowed hull in harm's way?"
"Jack, " Will said, skepticism stretching his face, "you're a pirate. You often knowingly put the Pearl in harm's way."
Quite annoyed by such an insinuation, Jack rolled his eyes. "You must have forgotten, Will." He flicked his brows at the younger man and smiled a bit. "Harm doesn't come her way when it's Captain Jack Sparrow who's behind her helm." Though Will did not look entirely convinced, Jack decided that even the smallest bit of doubt meant he did not have to further defend his self and so moved on to the next point he had to make. "Second of all, I don't need to see to know I'm where I need to be. I've a map marked and a compass to follow and before you mention its being broken I should remind you of all the places its got us in the past."
"In trouble," Will said, lifting his chin higher.
Jack followed suit, narrowing his eyes a bit. "And out of it."
Will's brow arched.
So did Jack's.
"Anything else?"
"Why as a matter of fact," said Jack, stepping forward and grabbing Will's arm to whirl him fore, "there is one thing. For you see we can see one thing, and that, Will Turner, is the light guiding us to where it is we're going."
Indeed, upon the horizon flickered the same green beacon that had been beckoning since before they'd started out. Both men gazed at it in wonder for a moment. Will's eyes grew wide with it but Jack's narrowed. It had been higher in the sky but seemed to have dipped low. Then it was that his own eyes widened at the sight—no, the thought.
"It's sunk."
Will turned to question him but he was already down the steps and knocking aside the curtain to stride purposefully to that which he considered his office. Once there he hurried to the desk where lay his map rolled just so. His usually gentle way with something so precious to him was cast aside. The scroll he slapped out flat to glare at it and its markings he'd made sure as was possible. That Will had hurried after him and was hovering he knew and so turned gleaming eyes up at him.
"Antolune is lost," he said, trailing a fingertip along the swirl of ink that could have been, by all rights, a sucking whirlpool, "because it is sunk."
--- --- --- ------- () ------- --- --- ---
"Do you think they found it?"
Neris turned toward Elizabeth Turner, who had only just settled her children into bed with the help of Isaac Faust's tale telling, and arched a brow. That the young woman did not truly believe she knew things before anyone else she knew. It did not bother her. In fact, it was slightly refreshing to the priestess. When those knew that one knew things no one else knew, they saw them in light that did not illuminate for the better. Still, it was a bit amusing when questions were asked without belief that there would be an answer when there was.
"I know that they did not."
Elizabeth pursed her lips in thought and turned quick eyes toward her. There was in her a new question budding but she took her time in asking it, first wringing her hands. When her mouth opened she was cut off.
"You need not ask," Neris told her in a voice as gentle as she took the hand of Will Turner's wife. "The man of your heart is safe. Even in darkness he will be protected. I would not allow otherwise."
"Please," said Elizabeth quietly, taking back her hand, "do not think you can deceive me. Even if you are of high intuition as the stories say... there must be things that you can not see nor hear—things beyond your control."
"Yes," she agreed with a quick nod. "There are." Her lips turned up in a small smile. "But not many."
Elizabeth cast a dubious look in her direction.
"So you see it's no wonder she and Jack get on so well."
Both women turned to look at the third walking toward them. Alice Witter flashed the smallest of smiles. It was gone as quick as it had appeared, however, and in its place a cool, calm that Elizabeth could not muster despite how many assurances the Intuit priestess gave.
"Aye," butted a burly brogue from the helm behind them, "and i' ain't th'only reason besides!"
All three women turned to eye Captain Sam Samson—Elizabeth curiously, Alice Witter angrily, and Neris in dismay. The other two turned narrow eyes—of both previously mentioned persuasions respectively—upon her. In her head whirled both the scandal and jealousy of both women, respectively, and so Neris fought the flush that quite rose in her face for both having not had the foresight of such nor its reason and for that which echoed loudly in her head.
"What," asked Elizabeth, "could he possibly mean by that?"
"I should like to hear it myself," Alice said sharply, nose pointing in the air. "If you wouldn't mind, Neris."
"Oh," growled Samson, slapping a hand on the wheel as he wished to slap both of them, "bloody women'll make trouble o' nothin meant for it! Ya best tell em, Neris, 'fore either the harpies hexplode!"
But Neris was having much difficulty in speaking for all the horrifying images spiked at her from the sweet queen's icy grips of sudden hatred, and all the lurid ones put in her head by Elizabeth's overactive imagination. Squeezing her eyes shut, and pressing her fingers to her temples to clear her head, she gasped. "No! No, nothing—" she broke off, the image of a half- imagined Jack Sparrow paddle in hand, leering suggestively at her too much to bear. "Missus Turner, please, for love of all that is sacred! You've a sickness and it is making me ill!"
"Oh!" Elizabeth's eyes widened and all thoughts ceased quickly. "I'm so very sorry Neris," she said, a small smile playing upon her lips as she glanced at the other woman turning a pale shade of livid. "Yes, I can't blame you... the thought of such a man in such a way is certainly enough to make most women want to retch."
"How is it," asked Alice snidely, "that your husband has managed to meander into our conversation?"
Neris sighed, knowing well what was coming and not liking it whatsoever. If she was not so certain of the tides turning on her instead of on the two themselves, she would have interfered. But she was and so she kept silent, shooting only a pained glance at their captain who simply muttered something unsavory and shook his head.
"My husband," sniffed Elizabeth, "is a charming, handsome man whose attentions any woman would vie for. I am happy to have been lucky enough to be the one he chose to dote upon." She lifted her chin. "But I suppose I can not blame you for not knowing what makes a wonderful husband. It isn't as if you have one."
"No," Alice seethed. "I don't."
"No," said Elizabeth, quite magnanimous in victory, "you don't."
Such was apparently too much for the other woman to bear. Not only did Neris feel Alice's deep hurt of the old wound that Elizabeth had sliced so easily open, but she felt also the sting of losing the battle that had caused it. Alice Witter grit her teeth. Struggle in her heart and mind she did and then decided quick as a flick of her wrist what to do. Quickly, she flicked her wrist up to foist her left hand at Elizabeth and arched a brow. "Yet."
"What?!"
Neris sighed and watched as Isaac Faust, who'd been sitting on a crate watching the entire exchange, jumped up and jolted forward to grab the hand on which a dainty diamond ring sparkled under the stars. The young man's eyes went wide as Elizabeth's as he inspected it. For a moment Neris saw the doubt in his mind and then the worry and the fear.
"Please tell me you have not promised yourself to a fool," he pleaded.
Alice lifted her chin. "Of course not."
"So," called Samson, "y'ain't marryin Jacky, then?"
Her brows pinched. Hissing, she whipped around to glare at him. "Keep your head at the helm or I'm taking it over, you big brute!"
"Woman," he growled, "if'n y'call me tha' again... I'll show y'brute! Brute strength!" With that, he slapped hard his tremendous thigh with his herculian hand. "Righ' o'er me left knee!"
Alice frowned, tilting her head a bit to consider the threat. "You say that as if it's a bad thing..."
Captain Sam Samson's green eyes widened a bit, and he gripped the wheel tighter. A chuckle rose from his belly and carried on the breeze to the rest of them. Doffing his tawny tricorn, he shook his head. "Woman..." A grin stretched his jagged scar and the moonlight shone upon his pearly whites. "Trust me when I tell y'I can make it one."
Alice lifted her brows but didn't comment, instead turning to Isaac who was studying the ring upon her finger much as was Elizabeth Turner. Will's wife seemed impressed, and Alice couldn't help but gloat a bit when she saw the woman eye the ring that had been so long on her own finger. It had been had been Will Turner's token in turn and was no thing to scoff at though indeed it was smaller of stone than that which Alice wore. The slighter woman smirked and withdrew her hand from the both of them that were gandering at it, throwing a look of warn at the too-wise Neris. "Enough of that," she said, pointedly narrowing her eyes at their gaping mouths. "You're fogging it up!"
But Isaac snatched her hand back and studied closer the setting of the ring. His brows rose and then fell and then rose again, a smile lifting his lips considerably to reveal his own gleaming grin. "It is from Jack."
"What?" Alice looked down in annoyance at the gem on her finger and then bit her lip, looking up at the gent so certain before her. Despite her irritation with such she lifted her chin as haughtily as was possible. "Perhaps."
"Have you not noticed?" Isaac chuckled, dropping her hand to take her face fondly in his palm. "The diamond is set in a wee compass rose that does not point north."
"I don't believe it," Elizabeth said, folding her arms and raising her brows at Alice. "It is more likely simply a token than a promise of any sort. We know Jack. He may love weddings but he's never been interested in one of his own."
Alice glared at her.
"Now," Isaac said with a smirk, "that's simply not true."
"Hmm." Smiling again, Alice did not look away from Elizabeth but inclined her head toward Isaac. "And how would you know, nip?"
"Because," he said, smirk broadening a bit, "you are not the only one to read that which he's written." Dropping his tone, blue eyes sparkling, he went on in confidence. "Man's a consummate sucker for the social. Got plans down to particulars for his own wedding." He fell silent for a moment, and his smile faltered a bit as he turned deftly to Alice. "But I must warn you, for his idea of a honeymoon seems a bit on the wild side."
Her eyes widened. "Oh?"
"Aye," said Isaac, brow crinkling with worry. "Mayhap even dangerous. I think he's in mind a bit of a flog. I read something about the merit of whips—"
"A'right," Samson called from the helm, "enough o'that! Women, get on. Laddy Faust, I need y't'take the helm for a mite. Y'know the way. If'n I wake up t'find the lot of ye still debating Jacky's amorous inclinations, there'll be no fishes for food. For any o'ye!"
As Isaac went dutifully to the helm, Neris breathed a sigh of relief. Though her worries were not eased for Alice's blatant lies, she could not be more thankful for the change in conversation she'd not foreseen. Glad she was that she'd not fully listened to that which had been in her head. Lean lighter against the rail of the Swan she did, and smiled pleasantly at both Elizabeth and Alice who were eyeing each other almost curiously under the light of the moon.
"An' Neris," the Captain called, a smile in his voice, "jest cos y'ain't wrigglin now... don't y'think you're off th'hook."
The Intuit priestess sighed. "I really should listen more oft to my head." To her dismay, she saw the two women turn sharply toward her, but knew it well before they did for the horrors in their heads had quick returned. The suggestion of whips had clearly made an impact on Elizabeth Turner. She winced. "Or perhaps not."
--- --- --- ------- () ------- --- --- ---
It seemed a long time had passed since the both of them, Will and himself, had stared at the map and Jack hid a frown as he realized neither of them were much talking. In fact, they'd been rather silent since he proclaimed what he was rather sure was the case of the lost island, if indeed there was one at all.
Sunk, he thought, tossing a weight upon the map to hold it down and taking his compass from the pocket of his coat. Lost to the light, he mused, pulling out one of his desk drawers to loot through its contents. A fancy silver instrument he procured amidst the many. It thumped on the table as the drawer he kicked shut and yanked the top open. He hesitated there, glancing at Will and biting hard upon his cheek as he considered just how, exactly, he could make him go away. Usually such was not difficult for him—aye, he'd sent Will Turner on many a wild goose chase before—but unfortunately, and fortunately in some other respects, and rather frustratingly, really, he felt after so much had been said between them that even the smallest bit of dishonesty was somehow, in some way, distinctly wrong.
But then his fingertips grazed metal wire and Jack decided that he'd never claimed to be distinctly right either. To Will he turned, fixing on his face the sternest look he could muster. "Get out there, Mister Turner," he said, grabbing up the telescope sitting on his desk and shoving it in Will's palm, "and find... T... Turull. Ovos."
"Turullovos?"
"Aye," he said, struggling much to keep the look upon his face as he was much reminded of 'turtle eggs' by that word which he'd made up, "that one."
"What," asked Will, "is Turullovos?"
"Constellation."
"But I do not even know what it looks like!"
"You don't know what it looks like?!" The smallest hint of red tinged Will's cheeks and Jack almost confessed for his own shame in making up that which he had but he held out, turning away instead. "Enlist Mister Gibbs. If any a man knows, it'll be him."
Will frowned but did not question the captain further. With a curt nod he walked away. Jack watched him, careful to keep upon his face the same look he'd conjured. When it was the younger man disappeared, he all but breathed a sigh of relief and snatched from the drawer that which had given him pause.
"You've made quite the liar out of me," he told the gilt, wireframe spectacles before slipping their ornate pinching mechanism on his nose. His lip quirked. "Not that that's anything less than usual, mind you."
Quickly he laid out the instrument in accordance with their course and squinted a bit to make absolutely certain that the line was straight to the center of the curve. Satisfied, he sat back and rubbed his hands together. With the left he reached for the dial atop the silver arm sticking up and with the right steadied the flat base. Ever so gently, with the slightest touch, he nudged the dial back and back and back until finally the silver needle pointed in line with that upon the map. Feeling even a bit weary of breathing, he pressed his lips shut and once more turned a dial, the other one, until the second needle lined up with the other line that had been marked.
He was set to read off the numbers when it was he heard the steady footsteps of Will Turner returning and so cussed, taking the pince-nez from their perch and foisting them with a clang into the drawer. Folding both hands sweetly under his chin, he lifted his brows at the frowning Turner framed in the door and cocked his head. "Find it?"
"I can not find Gibbs."
Jack sighed and forced his brows together. "Well look harder, lad!"
Will looked about to contest but then nodded and disappeared once more.
Muttering to himself about the inconvenience of having young friends aboard, Jack took the pince-nez from the drawer and plopped them unceremoniously on his nose. Lean over the instrument he did and saw the fine markings made cleaner by the lenses. It wasn't that he needed them—no of course not, Captain Jack Sparrow's sight was no less sharp than ever it had been—but they did afford an easier precision at a glance. Plucking up a quill, he dipped it in ink and quickly noted the numbers on a piece of parchment.
From his desk he drew another instrument, a round one much like a compass but with a gilt volvelle inside. Its many wheels, marked by small symbols composing all of that which lit the sky, were much as a moving chart—an astronomical compendium. Peering down at it, he nudged each wheel around till he was satisfied with its alignment. To his surprise the position removed all embossed symbols from view. Though certainly that reflected how dark and without luminary the night was, he'd expected to find at least one symbol upon the rings—to find an indication that the green beacon was indeed a guiding light.
His expectations, however, were quite squashed by the instrument. The indication from the astronomical compendium was that the green beacon was not this or that or the next one, but nothing. According to the alignment, the green beacon did not exist in the sky.
"So," he breathed, going back to his calculations and frowning at them, "if it doesn't exist... why, then, can we see it?"
"Jack!" Sometime during all the captain's fuss, Will Turner had once again stomped in. He frowned only slightly when Jack jumped, but his brow crinkled deeper when he noted the spectacles. Then his eyes narrowed and he folded his arms. "So that is why you sent me on a search for a constellation that does not exist?"
Oh but Jack was certainly grumbling inside at having been caught. He feigned ignorance though, furrowing his own brow. "But Turullovos does exist." To save face, he pointedly adjusted his spectacles, so as to let Will know that they were not at all something to be hidden. "And we've a need to find it. It is enormous. You can't miss it!"
"Jack..."
The pirate sighed. "What?"
Will nodded at the porthole through which only darkness showed. "There is not a single star in the sky."
Jack bit hard on the inside of his cheek. Such an oversight it had been that he nearly laughed at himself but that would ne'er do well in front of Will Turner. Instead he forced surprise on his face. "Oh? I must've forgotten." He smiled sweetly. "Sorry about that, Mister Turner. Difficult thing to remember, honestly. There's much on me mind and not much of me mind to mind it with, savvy?"
Will arched a brow but did not comment. After a bit of watching Jack fiddle with the cartographic instruments, he crossed the space, set down the telescope, and settled himself on the side of the desk that was clear of clutter. "You know..."
Still smarting from having been found out, Jack uttered a grunt that he hoped conveyed he was not interested in small talk. He leaned back, considering the numbers he'd read off. They were not anything particular to him it seemed.
Apparently Will Turner still did not know how to take a hint, because he set sure about going on with whatever it was he was going to say. Clearly it was something Jack did not want to hear, for the younger man laid a hand on his shoulder and smiled fondly upon him. "At the forge, I've a pair of those myself..." His brown eyes were warm, as well. "For detailing."
As irritated as he was, Jack couldn't help but feel succinctly the twinge of regret for having tried to hide something so ridiculously stupid from the man looking down at him. He rolled his eyes and sighed and growled a bit. "Alright! Forget Tur... Turull..." Frustrated for having forgotten what he'd named the inexisting smatter of stars, Jack tsked. "Forget the bloody constellation! Twelve, twenty-one, eighty-seven. Does that ring a bell?"
Will's eyes widened. "Say again?"
"Twelve," said Jack slowly, "twenty-one. Eighty-seven."
"Why," demanded the younger man, suddenly defensive, "are you asking me this?"
For whatever reason, Jack was not certain that he wanted to reveal why, exactly, he was asking such a thing. It seemed right wrong that he'd suddenly suspected a bloody intersection of lines on a map to mean something other than the plot of a course and he felt quite foolish for it. Search for an acceptable excuse he did and finding none, simply raised his brows. "Because!"
"Twenty-first December, 1687..." Will's warm eyes flinched, and in them surged up a well of hurt as he leaned forward to meet Jack's gaze steady. "Twelve, twenty-one, eighty-seven... is the last date of the last entry in my father's journal."
His father's... Jack trailed off in his own head, leaning back out of discomfort for the tension ran taut between he and the man sitting on his desk. His gaze he averted, looking at that which laid out before him—all the things that he'd at one time taught William Turner to use and later trusted him with. Much as anyone said different, the truth was that he'd never been as trusting with a man as he'd been with Bootstrap. In William, he'd every bit of faith he lacked otherwise.
I'm very particular about who plots me chart, savvy?
His words to Neris he remembered, and in a series of swift flashes of memory—asking Neris if she'd seen the green, listening to her tell him that the essence of it was not one so harmful at all, and Will standing on the deck of the Pearl telling him that he had seen the thing when it was Bootstrap had made his visit—clarity dawned on him. Foolish he felt for having not thought through to see the connection before. Glancing down at the compendium and the compass, he snatched the spectacles from his face and tossed them to the desktop with a sigh.
"If there's any one thing to say about your Da, lad, he ne'er gives up."
Will raised his brows.
Jack shook his head, clapping a hand on Will's knee. "Stubborn man."
"Jack," said Will, clearly not willing to guess what Jack was getting at, "spit it out!"
"Surely you read at least something about the way in which I taught your Da what I knew of navigation..."
"Yes."
"Mmmhm. And surely you read at least something, perhaps only a tiddle but still a bit, about his being the one I trusted to guide me ship." His brows flicked upwards. "To plot me charts well as I would've."
"Yes."
"Well," said Jack with a weary smile as he nodded toward the porthole where through shone the green light of the flickering beacon, "apparently, he's decided he's not all that ready to give it up."
--- --- --- ------- () ------- --- --- ---
Neris was really having a most difficult time keeping the sordid solicitude of Elizabeth's out of her head. It seemed nigh impossible. No matter how many others' thoughts and challenges ebbed through them, Mrs. Turner's very vivid visuals overtook all. In all their graphic glory they quite shamed the woman who'd previously thought she was unable to be scandalized.
"Missus Turner! Please!"
Elizabeth had the grace to flush red before clapping a hand to her head. "Sorry! I'm sorry, Neris, but it can not be helped! I can not seem to stop it and believe me I wish I could—"
"Need some help, then," Alice asked, eyes flashing dangerously. "I would be more than happy to be of assistance."
"Oh," Neris scowled, grabbing both their hands and drawing them closer, "the Captain spoke true! Enough of your nonsense, the both of you! There is much you have to learn about friendship. That is all that lies between Jack and I. He stumbled upon my people when we needed him. And thanks be to the sisters three that when I needed him he was there." There came to her a flash of something from Elizabeth that she did not like. "Missus Turner!"
"Oh," whispered Elizabeth, "I really wish it would stop..."
Shaking her head of the image, Neris did not comment but went on with what it was she'd intended to say. "I will not speak of what transpired to gain his aid. But it was enough to bind us, as certainly it should be enough to bind the two of you. Your men are friends, and so are you, but you would not know it because you are both too angry to see!"
Elizabeth and Alice eyed the woman closely. There was silence save for the ebb of waves lapping at the swift-sailing Swan. When it was that they both decided she was telling the truth, they relented. Elizabeth's shoulders drooped and Alice gave a soft sigh as together they watched Neris glide haughtily away.
"I hate it," said Alice quietly, "when she is right."
Elizabeth turned her head a bit, her honey brown eyes lighting golden with curiosity. "Is she truly a seer?"
"Well," Alice said, folding her arms though a smile flashed upon her lips, "she certainly did see what was in your head, Elizabeth."
Missus Turner bit her lip, pressing a palm to her temple. "I sincerely wish it away, Miss Witter."
The other woman smiled, taking Elizabeth's hand in her own. "It's Alice," she said, leading her in a stroll toward the helm where stood a deliriously happy-faced Isaac, "and I was not jesting when I offered my assistance in the matter. I believe we should fill our heads with other images of Jack Sparrow." Her eyes narrowed a bit as she leaned conspiratorially toward Will Turner's wife. "Like his face when it is he finds out we're not very happy with this leaving us behind business."
Elizabeth scowled and nodded her emphatic assent. "And Will's face as well!"
"That's the spirit!" Alice smiled. "I knew you had it in you!"
--- --- --- ------- () ------- --- --- ---
Jack shuddered. Whether it was the foreboding he felt at the yet unyielding darkness or something else he was not certain but he was certain that whatever it was was not good. Not good at all, in any sense, or by any stretch of the imagination he felt. Perhaps Gibbs had been right and he should not have swilled so much of his beloved rum. To Will he turned and saw, unfortunately, the younger man's mouth twisted much as was his.
"Something," said Will haltingly, "is not right."
"Oh, just wonderful," Jack said, pinching hard the bridge of his nose as he sighed. "Splendid that it isn't only me. I was rather hoping it really was the rum."
Will's brow furrowed.
"Cap'n!"
Gibbs' voice, hoarse with having not slept and also the excitement of discovery, rang out o'er the buzz of the crew and turned Jack around. The pirate captain feigned disinterest, only inclining his head a tiny bit. His sailor took the steps two at a time and took Jack's arm, grasping and gasping for his breath. His pale blue eyes blinked and then he took a swig from his flask. Quickly he tucked it back away. A jagged smile broke across his face as he pointed out into the darkness.
"Figgered we're close."
Jack's eyes widened upon that which the sailor was pointing out. The beacon was there, low but brighter in its closeness. The thing was no longer so far as the horizon. No, it was close enough that Jack imagined the Pearl would be upon it in no time and so with one eye trained on the luminary, he turned his head toward the men and shouted orders to take in some sail. When it was he was satisfied they had done so, he leaned on the rail and narrowed both eyes upon the now glowing green.
"If Antolune is sunk," said Will as stood staring much the same, "how shall we find anything?"
Jack bit his cheek, considering the question. When the Pearl was nearly upon the now glittering beacon, he called down to his stunned men the order to anchor and turned to Will with a flick of his brows. "Fancy an evening dip, Mister Turner?"
--- --- --- ------- () ------- --- --- ---
Author's Babble: Captain Sparrow has quite a few little instruments to his name... for much a reason. There have been hints here and there but I'm afraid that this story shall not divulge that particular secret. The silver instrument is more than likely something he or someone else rather clever came up with—and it measures angles and such. The compass... well, I like to leave it a mystery much as the movie did, but I've my own ideas about it, have no doubt.
The astronomical compendium was actually many instruments in one, most importantly the moving diagram called the volvelle. The volvelle was round, composed of rings that one can twitch, turn, or twist to the proper degree in order to find out what the sky should look like overhead. In short, making a map of the heavenly bodies above. Most had also a lunar volvelle that was in effect a chart of the tides as the moon does control them. Some other instruments that were commonly included in the spring-hinged box were compasses, sundials, miniature windvanes, and time conversion tables. Really they were very fine and are worth looking up on the net if only for appreciation for such an involved and thorough box of navigatory treasure. In all actuality I imagine that usually pirates would simply sell something like an astronomical compendium for a pretty piece of change... but then Captain Jack Sparrow isn't any sort of usual and I really rather imagine he'd never part with such a useful and fussy tool.
If you want to know more about these type of things, you might want to check out The Seaman's Secrets by John Davis. It is a very old book—1500s or 1600s I believe—but absolutely necessary if it's truly the pirate's life for you. Google it, and I guarantee you will find it in webtext format! Would post a link if I could, but you know how that goes... sometimes
