Darkness surrounding them, Isaac and the rest aboard the Swan crowded around the Intuit who claimed he knew no more than what he'd already told them. They were skeptical, Gibbs in particular. Samson, though, seemed to believe the sliver of man cowering before him.
"Right," he said, scratching at his jaw, "just y'tell us if'n ye catch a glimpse o' something strange, aye?"
It was at that moment that a great bolt of gold struck up from the pitch black of the sea before them. In all their eyes it flashed. Silver shot through it and shone down upon them.
Samson glowered at the shame-shaken man. "Preferably 'fore it happens," he clarified.
--- --- --- ------- () ------- --- --- ---
There was a surge of emotion and Neris felt it all. Swirling indigo tethered she and William to the spot they stood, both eyes wide upon his son advancing with Mack McGregor's fine sword in hand. It flashed silver. Will Turner's usually warm eyes were cold with suspicion and Neris could not look away—until a screaming shock of crimson blasted the cave with sparks of red rage. The Sparrow's black fury shot from his eyes. A streak of molten gold struck at him. Cold death sliced through him but it was white hot hate that hissed from his lips.
The snake sneered at him.
"Of all the ghosts," Jack growled, "of all the pernicious poltergeists that could've played tricks—and it had to be you!"
Barbossa's laughter was low. His smug smile tugged Alice's lips up. "Oh Jack," she said in a voice that wasn't her own, "didn't ye miss me?"
"In your case," said Jack, "even absence does not make the heart grow fonder."
It was Barbossa's grunt of displeasure and his strength behind the small fist that struck Jack's face.
Neris felt the sound pierce William's son with a prickle of cold fear for Jack. It was the overwhelming warmth for the pirate that convinced him to make haste. "You," he said, wielding his weapon warningly at the priestess and his father, "the both of you! Where do you stand?"
William's stare was just as hard on Will.
Dizzied by the array of sense and colour, Neris swayed with it and fought for her bearings. Hope was fast draining. Too loud was the cacophony of chaos—
"Right here," said the father, that smoky voice resonant above all else, "with you."
The son's glow levelled Neris in lavendar. Clarity had returned. "Serpensei."
Both Turners turned to follow her gaze.
The whispered word seemed to send the serpent forward. It was in a blink of the snake's eyes that the thing looped about Jack. It drew itself tight about his ribs and squeezed the tender flesh that had already been bruised but the pain was nothing as compared to the cold of that coiling. Neris felt Jack's horror and was, herself, reduced to silent shivers.
Jack, for his part, had no choice other than watch Barbossa's sneer mar the lovely little face of Alice Witter.
"Jack," sang the woman's voice in a tone that wasn't hers, "I hate to have to say this, but… I think I might like you this way." A brow's arch later, she gave a quick little grin. "I think I might like all of your faithful friends this way."
Neris felt the earth slip from under the heels of Jack's boots before she saw him whipped out over the rocks. Her eyes went wide but she, like Jack, could not move nor whisper warning to the Turners. She watched, dumbstruck, as the serpent swirled around them. Revulsion shuddered through Neris as cold scales circled her waist and spun her, and the Turners, close to Jack.
Crushed together, the four of them.
Even if they were not clenched in the chill of death, Jack's gaze, which had shot sideways to the long lost man at his side, would have been just as haunted. The Intuit priestess knew this as much as she knew the guilt of it weakened William's knees. Neris knew that as much as she knew that those weaknesses were what the serpent had preyed upon—she knew it through the snake's very scales.
A cackle cut through the cave.
"Neris has something she would like to tell you," called Alice in a falsetto that was unnaturually gritty, "but she's a bit tied up at the moment so I s'pose that leaves the telling of the tale to me."
Bootstrap, seemingly the least affected, took a great gasp of breath that knocked his shoulder into Jack's. He ignored the pirate's squeak of contempt and glared instead up at the small form picking its way easily down over the rocky incline. "Well ye've got our attention!" He gasped again, for breath, and winced at the effort and effect of it—the serpent, happier none for the man's strength, squeezed tighter. But William would not be silenced, it seemed. "D'ye intend to tell the tale, or d'ye prefer our fishing it from ye?
Jack Sparrow, for all his horror, tried to laugh at that, but the small spark of humor faded fast from his eyes as he saw what was approaching.
Every slow step toward them saw Alice Witter uglied more with Barbossa's likeness—from the thickening of her neck to the crinkling of her skin. A pace away and the figure had changed form—save for two minor discrepancies. Barbossa paused then and his gaze fell upon his bosom. One weathered hand lifted to pat fondly the curves that had yet to flatten. Content sighed from the mutinous first mate and then he chuckled. "Almost sad to see them go," he confided in Jack.
If he had the time, and control of his throat, Jack would have gagged.
Wherever she was, Alice Witter was not pleased. In fact, she was probably downright infuriated, for Barbossa's arm took the shape of her own and then it was her hand that slapped his face.
It was enough to stun him. He gaped at the hand that wrinkled into his own. Even the snake had been startled—the vicelike grip on Jack loosening a little—if only to allow him a breath of air.
"You," he choked out, "bloody well deserved that!"
Barbossa recovered, yellow eyes turned to slits at Jack. He hissed, as did the serpent, and knocked Jack in the jaw. "Shut up," he spat, dodging a kick from Bootstrap. He took a step back beyond their reach and surveyed the four of them—Jack grimacing, Turners glaring, and Neris glowering. A low chuckle sounded from his throat. "Aye," he said, lips curling up in the smuggest of smiles, "I'm most fond of the lot of ye lookin just so. Makes ye almost… tolerable."
Bootstrap grumbled.
"Ah, Bill Turner," Barbossa breathed, gaze flicking to the man, "thought sure I'd ne'er see ye breathin' 'gain. Can't say I'm too pleased, Bootstrap, but leastways ye're in the same predicament—all tied up."
Will Turner growled.
"And young Mister Turner," Barbossa said, eyes yet boring into Bootstrap's, "still a fatherless—and foolish—lad. I'd pity ye," he said, sympathy saddening his voice too much for it to be counted sincere, "but as 'tis, I cannot quite forget the last time I stood so close to ye…" It was then that his eyes turned to the younger Turner, and they narrowed considerably. "And I've yet to forgive ye as well."
There was a flash of green. The serpent, who'd looped about their middles, had darted a circle about their shoulders. Its flat head rose above them and when its jaw unhinged, it gave a great hiss and drew them in tighter.
Jack Sparrow gasped. Thrice bound by the snake's body, every new tug tight was more the pressure upon his cracking ribs. Once more, he and Neris knew, and those bones would be but crushed to dust.
Barbossa cracked a grin. "Comfortable, Jack?"
What was left of the snake slithered through the air in an arc. Around Barbossa's shoulder it peered at Jack. Its mouth opened wide in a terrible, fanged smile.
"S'pose not," Barbossa said with a shrug. "I'd ask if ye want the long or short of it, but as 'tis ye have no choice." His fingers went to his grizzly beard, the ring on his finger flashing. Its great smoky gem gleamed silver. "S'up to me, in'nit? Let's see…" He stroked his chin in thought, yellow eyes glazing over. "Shall we start at the beginnin? Or how 'bout skippin right to the bitter end of what was to be the rest of me life?" Those yellow eyes flashed at Jack. The ringed finger poked the pirate in the nose. "When ye shot me through the heart, Jack Sparrow, and ye, Will Turner, made me bleed?"
Snake eyes narrowed on Will and William's eyes widened. The serpent hissed. It lunged for the younger Turner but lurched as the older Turner sprang up on his toes and caught its cold scales between his teeth. Nose to nose with Will the serpent was, and its forked tongue flicking from side to side but it could not strike. With a frustrated hiss, it writhed in William's mouth and sent its thick tail whipping.
Neris caught the slap. It knocked her into William who was knocked into a yelping Jack. The pirate's eyes popped wide as the serpent shot out of William's mouth and toward the whelp. Past the pain, Jack whipped his heavy head of hair at the snake. Locks snapped toward it. One sharp bauble pierced scales. The serpent gave a hiss of pain and Neris breathed a sigh of relief as it seemed to lose its focus. As it reared around, however, she gasped.
Jack, however, seemed to have expected the reaction and so, with no other option, simply glared at it as it struck at him.
William was faster this time—he caught the snake just behind its head and bit down. Black blood streamed down his chin and made slippery the squirming serpent but he did not relinquish his hold on it. He growled and grit his teeth harder around the cold-blooded coiler.
Barbossa moved forward and wrenched the serpent away, seeming not to care that William's teeth ripped it open along its scales. He grumbled. "Would ye knock it off?" With a grip on it, he glared into its golden eyes. "Ye're stealin my thunder and I don't fancy thieves."
William snorted. "Don't fancy yerself much then, do ye?"
"Shut up," Barbossa spat at him. His beringed hand waved angrily, and the snake waved with it. Its eyes boggled and narrowed but Barbossa didn't notice. "I don't fancy other thieves."
"Well," said William, "that makes two of us. And I believe that ring on yer finger b'longs to Jack."
Barbossa glowered over him. "And how would ye know, William Turner?"
William shrugged. "Bit intuitive, ye could say. Always have been." He winked at him. "Could've told ye all those years ago that that treasure was cursed." His smile faded to a glare. "I just did'n want to."
"Hold yer tongue or I'll hold it for ye," Barbossa snarled. He pointed his finger first at William and then at the rest of them. "That goes fer the lot of ye! Any one of ye speaks while I'm speakin and I'll lash the words outta yer mouth!"
Neris watched as Barbossa skulked around them. In his hand was clenched the serpent, but he, Barbossa, did not seem to notice its writhing, nor the way that the gem in his—Jack's—ring shone silver. He did not notice as Neris did that the flowers of fate responded with fire of their own. Pressed to her side, she felt their responding flash though she could not see the shimmer of the gems.
"Twas so cold when ye shot me, Jack," Barbossa said, pausing beside his breathless nemesis to lay the gnarled hand that was free upon Jack's shoulder. "Ye can't imagine." Shaking his head, Barbossa turned on his heel. His hands clasped behind him and the snake twisted, struggling, in the one of them. "Death made no haste as it crept upon me and the hellfires, well, they could not wait to engulf my soul. But I, oh I resisted. Not till Jack Sparrow's made to come with me, I told them. And do ye know, they listened?" He spun around, eyes blazing, and advanced on the pirate. "Do ye know, Jack Sparrow, how difficult it was to find yer long lost friend?"
William's dark eyes glinted dangerously, but he did not move to speak.
Barbossa raised his brows. "Not very. But then, it wasn't me he was hiding from." As Jack cast a dark glance in the other man's direction, a smug smile stretched Barbossa's face. "Aye, it seems he was not so far from ye this whole time. But then, how could ye have known?"
As the villain's gaze landed upon her, Neris felt her anger, and that of Jack and Will, flare. She glared first at William and then at Barbossa. "I did not know!"
William had the grace to sink in guilt, but Barbossa only laughed. "And ye call yerself an Intuit."
"You," she grit at him, "know nothing!"
Amusement glinted in his yellow eyes as he took in the glare of hers, and the burning hatred in Will's. "Ne'er claimed to be a seer, myself."
"I claim only what I am!"
"She did not know."
William's whisper brought a new, cruel smile to Barbossa's face. He took a few slow steps toward the guilt-ridden man and stopped directly before him. "Didn't she now?"
"I hid it from her," William confessed, "same as I hid the curse from you. Same as I hid from Jack—and from my own son." How he did not falter under the return of Will's wrath, Neris did not know. "And this nonsense is why!"
Barbossa shook his head sadly. "Can't e'er do right, can ye, William Turner?"
"No," he muttered darkly.
"No, ye can't," Barbossa agreed. "Much as ye try, something always goes terribly, terribly wrong. Doesn't it?"
William's gaze had fallen to the toes of his brown boots. "Yes."
"Thought as much," Barbossa said, quite cheerful. "Which is why ye were the perfect pawn. The Trouble was all up to ye, William Turner. I barely had to lift a finger." He chuckled. "Just the essence o'yer soul for a time." He shuddered. "Now that—that was nigh insufferable!" He turned back to Jack. "Ye see, Jack… William Turner, here, was alive and well this entire time. How he escaped my shackles I might ne'er know—but the fact is that when I denied the fires of hell for the sake of bringing ye with me, they whispered to me a strange, strange name."
"Tetetuzu," Neris spat.
Barbossa smiled. "Aye, Tetetuzu, they whispered. Seek him. And so I did. T'was Tetetuzu who told me all I needed to know of William Turner. T'was Tetetuzu who told me all I needed to know to get ye here, Jack, on the road to hell. But first, I had to find what he could not." Barbossa's face darkened. "Do ye know how difficult t'was to find this blasted, sunken island?" He flicked the beringed hand in the air. "Years, it took. Years of searching the entrails of the earth, years of nothing but wanderlust and revenge burning a hole in my soul, and the only relief the occasional haunting of your dreaded dreams!"
Jack shivered.
"Do ye know, Jack Sparrow, how difficult t'was for me to wait for this moment?"
Jack shuddered.
"But it was worth it," Barbossa said, anger fading to amusement. "Worth it to trouble ye, worth it to trouble William Turner—worth it to sink in his festering soul just to finish that game, just to toy with his boy—worth it to stand here at the end of the road to hell!" He took a step closer to Jack and grinned. "We'll be going soon."
"Silence!"
All of Barbossa's raving had caused him to lose grip on the serpent. It twisted free of his hands. Eyes glowering, it writhed around to face him, turning its back on the three wide-eyed men and one glaring woman yet trapped in its cold coils.
"Sufferable fool," it seethed, "if I wish to steal your thunder I shall steal it without consequence!"
A golden thread shot from its mouth to strike Barbossa. It stunned him silent. Then it sucked him into the unhinging jaw of the serpent and he was gone.
"That," said the serpent in a satisfied sort of way, "is much better."
"Tetetuzu?"
It loosed its grip only slightly to whip around and glare at William.
"Do not make the mistake," it said, "of believing I am on your side."
Jack, who was already quite pale, paled all the more—for the serpent's jaw was unhinging before him. It opened wide and stretched to form green jowls. Its face receded. Features formed as it did until what was left was a scowling, human head.
"You," it spat, golden lightning bolting from its eyes, "who would restore the order. You, who would return the sword to Ahku Khar!"
Jack, having regained a bit of his breath, wheezed. "Neko Neko."
"Great Great," Will Turner clarified. "You forgot."
"Believers," scoffed Tetetuzu, whose thick neck and broad shoulders were forming, "the worst kind of foe by far if only because of their insufferable stupidity." He paused to admire the rippling muscles of his own torso, then turned disdain upon them. "Ahku Khar was once neko neko, yes. But no longer. What made him great lies in that glittering green sword—what made him so great will momentarily be what makes me greater."
Split from the snake, whose yellow eyes were now undoubtedly Hector Barbossa's, the glowering God stepped away from them and strode toward the One Great Great God's sword. With a hiss, Hector sliced after him, spinning the four trapped in circles. Neris fell into Will Turner, who threw her off and pushed a stumbling William away. Jack, who was the last free, collapsed gasping for air. Neris reached for him, but her hand was stilled as out of the corner of her eye she caught a flash of silver.
Jack's ring had fallen off the tip of Hector's tail. It lay, forgotten, amongst the grey rocks. The gem shone.
Neris snatched it. She shoved it on her finger. The rest of the cavern was only a whirl of colour and sound as she turned to Will and wrenched the sword—the flowers of her fate—from his grasp.
--- --- --- ------- () ------- --- --- ---
Though the priest swore he knew nothing of the silver or gold, Isaac's blue eyes darkened with visions of Alice Witter lost between light and Jack Sparrow lost to the dark. His hand turned into a fist but he did not advance on the gaunt man before them. He might have, had a great silver beam not shot up out of the water beyond the Intuit. There was an audible gasp—pirates and sailors and Intuits alike—and a shuffle on each deck as all turned to stare out, startled by the sudden light in the dark.
Two priests rushed forward to the side of their shaken man as Isaac strode past him to the railing of the Swan. Elizabeth Turner was on his heels. Were it not for the railing, he thought she might have rushed right off deck and into the darkness below.
"We must find out what it is!"
Ignoring her, Isaac gazed out at the strand of silver reaching into the black sky. Behind him he heard Samson trying to becalm the crew with booming bellows of reassurances. He glanced over his shoulder in time to see Anamaria pop the big man in the jaw and Gibbs scramble to break the two apart. Wincing, Isaac turned back to the strange sight before them. His blue eyes filled with it, and with the silver thread shone hope.
"Maybe," he said softly, "it is one of those threads of fate."
