Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Title is a track off the Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack.

Chapter 41: To the Pirate's Cave!

The next day James secured a carriage for both of them and loaded their luggage onto it as they prepared to set out for Aguadulce. It would be three days' journey through the jungle, and Camille was already flustered about not being able to wear trousers for their trip.

"Camille, for the time being, you've got to at least act like you're somewhat of a proper lady," Will explained to her calmly as she stomped around.

"It simply is not fair!" she cried. "Why do men get all the freedom of movement? Why don't you have to be confined by various corsets and underthings, and…oh, to be a man," she sighed, calming down.

"Don't worry, you won't have to keep it up much longer. Just until we find what we are looking for."

"Which could be absolutely anything."

"It's now or never," Will said, holding the door open for her as they left the inn with the last of their luggage.

"Very true," she agreed.

It was a fairly uneventful and hot carriage ride the first day. James was a very good coachman for being as young as he was. Come nightfall, they found themselves in a very small village where they were to spend the night. Camille was exhausted. She'd never accustomed to the intense heat of the Caribbean, and here it was all the more humid. As James took the luggage from the coach, she slipped off her shoes and stood barefoot for a moment.

"I need a drink, Will. A very strong one. This heat is unbearable."

"All right, but I want you to remember that I am your husband as of now. So that means no fighting or sleeping with other men."

She nodded. "Fair enough," she said before putting her shoe back on.

When they walked into the small tavern the music was so loud that nobody bothered to turn and look at them. This was quite a relief to Camille, she was in a bad enough mood already without getting awkward glances from men. She and Will seated themselves at the bar and ordered their drinks as they looked around.

"I don't like that boy, James," Camille said, before taking a sip of her brandy. "I don't trust him."

"Who exactly do you trust?" Will asked.

"I trust you, and everybody else who has set foot past the threshold in my-your house in the past five years," she said. "And I think that he is a she."

"What, do you mean James?"

"Yes. He's either a young man with breasts or an adolescent girl. And I think it was she who overheard Jack and me speaking last night. I could see her shadow beneath the crack of the door to my room."

"Well, you shouldn't have been speaking to Jack in the first place."

"Yes, I know it was risky," she admitted. Despite her horrible mood, she refused to start an argument with Will tonight.

"Oh, bloody hell," Will cursed under his breath.

"What is it, my dear husband?" Camille asked, glancing behind them but not directly looking.

"Just follow my lead."

"Oh no Will, don't say that. That means that you don't want me to go doing anything foolish. And you know that I always do."

"Just this once, listen to me."

She looked at him curiously. She had never, ever liked taking orders from a man. But he had come all this way to protect her, and he missed his daughter terribly. Camille hadn't asked for any of this, but in the end Will had ended up somewhat saving her from Long John's wrath. So she decided that she would listen to him this time.

A man was at her side now; she could feel him looming over her. "That's a very lovely ring you've got on there, Miss." It was an older man, with an eyepatch. He smelled like rum, and frowned down at her as she casually looked up at him.

"Why thank you. It's my wedding ring. My husband knows that emerald is my favorite stone," she said softly. She noticed that he was surrounded by a group of men that looked just as angry as he did.

"I'm very curious to know how you came about such a…mysterious object such as that," the man said as she felt the barrel of a pistol in her side.

"Well," she said, without glancing over at Will. It was obvious he was in the same situation. "Would you believe that I stole it?"

The man chuckled. "Now that I would. On your feet, both of you. We don't want to cause a scene now. The captain will be havin' that ring of yours, either way."

Camille recognized this little figure of speech. This was one of Long John's men. She instinctively curled her hand into a fist, wanting to protect her ring.

"Give him the ring," Will said in a low voice.

"What?" she asked, her tone rising defiantly.

"Give him the ring," he said slowly, looking at her.

"I think ye should listen to the lad," the man said. "He may yet live a bit longer than you, Miss Quartermaine."

Camille grinded her teeth together. You had better know what you're doing, Will, she thought. She took off the ring and placed it in the man's hand, still gripping it for a second. The man laughed, holding it up for the others to see once he had it.

"It was very nice doin' business with ye both," he said. "Now my orders are to kill ye both."

"You mean that Captain Silver doesn't want to dispose of us himself?" Will asked.

The man rolled his eyes. "Don't try and stall me, boy."

Will punched the old man in the nose, immediately disarming him. Camille took this as her cue to steal his pistol and dive behind the bar. Cries broke out, and the crowd in the tavern began shouting and running every which way.

Among the confusion, Camille and Will took advantage of all the chaos and were able to slip out. There was a group of more men waiting just by the door, so they took a detour and ran upstairs. James was on his way down, and looked at them. "What's going on?" he asked, trying to see downstairs.

"This way!" Camille said, turning him around. "We need to get out of here, now!"

Will kicked open a door to one of the rooms, and they barricaded it with the bed. He blew out the candles, and the three of them stood in complete darkness. He stood by the window. "They're searching the coach. Do you think they'll find it?" It, meaning the crutch.

"I don't know. I hid it so it's impossible to find without taking the thing apart," but as she finished her sentence one of the men began unscrewing one of the wheels. "But they have considered that possibility, I suppose."

"What's that smell?" James asked.

"Gunpowder," Will answered. "I suppose they think they are going to burn us alive in here," he said, moving the bed and opening the door again. There was fire everywhere in the hallway, and he could see the trail of gunpowder. "They must've been planning on burning this inn anyhow."

"Well, we've got to stop them from tearing that coach apart before we have a whole new set of problems," Camille said, wrapping her hand up in bedsheets.

"I think that the building being on fire is a big enough problem."

"Will, get in here! We'll just escape through the windows."

James and Will looked at her. James shook his head. "But-"

"Cover your eyes," Camille commanded just before punching through the glass panes. She leapt through the broken window, catching her dress on nails and nearly tripping as she tried to climb down from the second story. She landed, falling over onto her face. "Damn these shoes," she muttered as she pulled them off again, throwing them at the men who were taking the coach apart. There were still people running around and screaming now that the inn was on fire, and she got back on her feet and ran knowing better than to stand in front of a building filled with gunpowder.

Will was fighting off the men, and James was still climbing down from the building. Camille made sure that everyone was out of the way before she began shooting.

"Camille, take cover!" Will called.

"What?" she asked before he pulled her aside and behind another building. The inn exploded, and several piece of furniture came ricocheting close to them. Will pressed the ring back into Camille's hand, and she slipped it back on.

"You got my ring back! Thank you!" she exclaimed. "I'm quite impressed by that."

Will smiled. "I thought I would try one of your tactics. I knew you'd like it."

"I did, very much," she said, making her way back to the coach, which was in pieces. She stopped short when she saw James standing there, grinning. "Oh, no."

James was holding the crutch, which was in a burlap sack. "I know what this is," he said. "And I'll give it back under one condition," he said, looking behind him as they heard more voices coming.

"And what's that?" Will asked.

"Take me to Jack Sparrow."

Camille eyed the girl suspiciously. "And what makes you think that we have any association with this Jack Sparrow?"

"Don't play games with me, Red Rogue Sullivan, I knew you the moment I saw you. You're his Irish mistress, everybody knows that."

Camille put her hands on her hips. "Well as much as I hate hearing it phrased that way, it is the truth. You'll find Jack in Aguadulce, where you are going lead us."

"I don't believe you."

"I never said you had to, love. But at least this means that I can change into something a bit more comfortable now, eh?"

Will just looked at James. "You lied to us."

"Of course she lied to us, she's a woman. It's what we do, dear William," Camille said as she dug around in the remnants of the coach, looking for her other dress.

"How did you know I was a girl?" James demanded.

"Because I know everything," Camille replied, straightening up. "Now, shall we?"

"I'm not leading you anywhere until you tell me how you knew that."

"Well, I'm not leading you to Jack Sparrow until you adjust your attitude a bit. Now are you going to cooperate with us or not, James?"

She sighed. "My name's Wynona."

"Lovely. Now let's go, Wynona."

Wynona didn't move. "Just like that? You're just going to trust me to lead you to Aguadulce?"

More voices were approaching fast. "There are two ways you will find Sparrow, and that's with us or with them," Camille said, nodding towards the figures of men who were beginning to emerge around the wreckage of the inn. "Now make your choice."

She and Will turned and headed for the jungle. Wynona hesitated for only a moment, and followed the two of them in.