Author's Note: Didn't hear much from you all this week... maybe their little frolic in the sand last chapter was a bit much? haha. Or, if the updates are coming too fast, I could always slow them down to weekly. It's really up to you guys since the story is mostly written, let me know. Either way, my favorite mermaid/pirate team are back at it today:) Have a great weekend!
When Melody first arrived at Auradon University on Move-In Day, she would never have imagined that in a few months' time, she'd be here. Crossing the bridge to the Isle of the Lost with a group of pirates after midnight on a school night. But that's exactly where she was, standing with Harry, Uma, and Gil, staring down the lighted bridge that arced over the ocean toward the Isle.
The last few days had passed in a blur, with Melody trying very hard to balance classes, homework, training in self-defense, and planning their next move. No one had heard anything about Sparrow yet, but there was a general feeling among their friends that something big was going to happen soon. It had been too long with nothing.
When Harry was back to his usual, unbeatable self in R.O.A.R. practice, he announced that his leg had healed well enough, and the time had come to 'nick the pixie dust.' If they were successful, they'd just need to recover the Jolly Roger and they'd be ready to face Zach Sparrow to get Triton's Sword back.
Their other friends had offered to come along to help, but Harry thought it might be best with people who knew the docks and were familiar with the Jolly Roger. And a smaller crew would attract less attention. Melody had finally convinced Harry that she'd be an asset on the mission, with her ability to shift quickly and dive into the water. No one could follow her there and it might make the difference in getting out fast with the pixie dust.
They hadn't risked sailing to the Isle on The Lost Revenge in case Sparrow was out there watching. Instead, they asked Lonnie, the only one with a car, to drop them off at the bridge. It was a two hour drive from the University but they used the whole time to review every last detail of their attack. And if all went well, they would meet Lonnie back on the other side of the bridge in two hours with the stolen treasure.
Her skin tingled with anticipation, her blood flowed like liquid heat in her veins as the four of them walked along the bridge together, swords strapped to their hips, chains and belts jingling, and boots slapping the pavement.
There was very little foot traffic on the bridge that night. They only had to move over once to let another group pass into Auradon. Melody kept her eyes downcast as Harry had suggested, not to draw attention to herself. Uma had let her borrow some clothes, too. Some ripped teal leggings, worn leather boots, and a matching jacket, all a few sizes too big for her and torn and patched with unmatching leather in places. Her face was hidden under dark eye shadow and the hat Uma had given her.
Harry had told her she looked 'positively villainous' which she hoped was good enough to make her blend in.
Uma had worn all black tonight, tight leathers with dangling silver details while Gil wore brown and gold. They both had a gleam in their eyes tonight that set her heart racing because she knew it meant trouble.
Harry shared their excitement, only he didn't have the physical self-control it took to contain it. He paced ahead with long strides, then snaked back to circle Melody, eyes wide and manic. He repeated this again and again, until he finally grabbed her by the waist and giggled into that space between her neck and shoulder, biting down to get a reaction from her.
It was obvious that the long walk from Auradon's shore to the Isle was far too calm and predictable when he was in this mood. She could feel the anticipation coming off of him in waves and it was contagious. She laced her fingers with his, holding him tight for the last hundred yards or so.
As soon as they crossed over onto the Isle of the Lost, Harry dropped her hand. "This is yer first cultural lesson from the Isle, no one holds hands here."
And she was struck by the sadness of it. Of that tiny detail. Appearing to need someone else with a simple hand hold, was such a weakness that it was dangerous.
They meandered along the coast, towards a line of dilapidated buildings facing the shore. The smell of garbage slapped her right across the face as they left the sea air behind. The rotten odor of decay was so strong, she had to fight the urge to gag. Her eyes watered as they weaved between dumpsters in the back alleys of run-down bars, fishing supply shops, and restaurants.
Half-burned out neon signs announced things like "catch of the day," but when Melody looked through the bars in the windows, she was pretty sure the catch of the day had nothing to do with fish.
She shot Harry a glance, wondering how he had grown up in such a place. As she looked around, everything here was harsh, dirty, and dangerous. How was it he still had so much joy in his smile after scraping by here for most of his life?
They passed Ursula's Fish and Chips, not missing the way Uma straightened herself, her mouth tightening into a hard line. Harry and Gil let their gazes linger on the sign, too. Melody had heard so many stories from their antics at the 'Chip Shoppe', it must be strange to be back, the reminder of what they escaped so plain to see.
When they were close enough to the entrance to see the faces of the sailors and drunks out in front of the shop, they turned their heads, pretending to be lost in conversation, hiding their identities from anyone who might recognize them.
They continued down the alley, and now, Melody could see a few masts poking up from behind the buildings ahead. The wharf was close. They followed more twists and turns, around a giant puddle of what smelled like urine and through a tight alley lined with small apartments. If you could call them that. They were more like flimsy lean-tos stacked on top of each other and Melody felt shame settling like a knot in her belly. These people had nothing. They didn't even have the means to move someplace else. Moving to Auradon was out of reach if all you had was a shack and didn't know where your next meal was coming from.
She wanted Harry's touch more than ever now. She wanted to laugh with him. To kiss him. To make him feel good, to show him he'd never have to live like this again. That he was safe.
But all that would have to wait. Because they were not in Auradon anymore and one slip up could mean the end of any of those happier possibilities. So, she set her mind to the task of following the three pirates as they stepped out of the alley and onto the wooden landing at the docks. They strode toward the end of the wharf and sat down behind a wall of crates and barrels, pretending to be just another group of drunks as they kept their eyes on the comings and goings along the water's edge.
A haze blanketed the ships docked here. Smoke from cooking fires and the stench of burning garbage lingered to create a uniquely putrid mist that hung over everything. The only light came from lanterns dangling from posts and the masts of several docked ships.
But outside of the sights and smells, the most obvious thing about being at the wharf after midnight, was that it was loud. The sailors didn't seem to know or care about the late hour and many were out drinking, talking, and doing whatever else pirates did after dark and doing it at the top of their lungs.
Melody was transfixed, watching a half dozen crew members sitting around a flaming barrel singing and laughing when Harry interrupted with a whisper in her ear. "There it is."
Her eyes followed his gaze toward the largest ship, the replica of the Jolly Roger. Harry had informed them this ship was actually the second version of the ship, because the original Jolly Roger lay on the sea floor in Neverland.
She let herself memorize the visible details of the vessel and the design of the deck. Its sails were rolled and stowed, and the main deck was sparsely populated. Harry had already gone over the layout using drawings so Melody knew exactly where the lockbox was they needed to find. They just needed a way to get down to the captain's private hold without being seen.
That was where Uma and Gil came in.
"Okay, you ready?" Uma pulled the bag off her back and unzipped it, exposing the two explosive fire bombs they'd brought with them.
Melody had watched earlier this evening as her three friends created the explosives. They'd filled two empty glass bottles with gasoline and a splash of motor oil which 'worked to thicken the concoction and would make for more smoke,' Harry had explained. And if you really wanted to do some damage, you could add a chemical cocktail to make the fumes toxic – bleach or chlorine would do the trick. But, he'd said, 'we're not tryin' to kill anyone tonight' and he'd shrugged, smiling as if this was the most normal conversation they'd ever had.
They'd finished filling the bottles and made wicks, tearing strips from old clothes and soaking them in alcohol. Then they would light the fuses and throw them at their target. 'All that's left is to watch the pretty lights' Harry had grinned.
Yup, she was learning all kinds of new things in college.
So now, homemade explosives in hand, Uma and Gil nodded once, then they were up and sprinting to the far end of the wharf. Their target was a loading area near the gangplank at the ship's stern, just beside the Jolly Roger. They jumped coiled ropes and dodged slumped over drunks as they flew toward their marks. As they neared the loading area, Melody watched the small flame from Gil's lighter illuminate his grin, before he pulled his arm back and launched his bottle at the same time Uma threw hers.
The two weapons arced like shooting stars across the darkened ocean backdrop, and when they landed, the dock erupted into chaos. The barrels and crates nearest the stern of the Jolly Roger ignited in a flashbang that sent a wave of heat across the docks.
Harry had that frenzied glint in his eyes as he tugged on her arm, encouraging her to run. She saw their target ahead, the gangplank farthest from the fiery distraction up toward the bow of the ship. And she knew the nearest access to the captain's quarters lay below.
By the time they reached it, warning shouts issued from all over the wharf and from below deck on the ship. Smoke burned her nostrils, choking the already stagnant air. She took one more look at the fire, yellow-orange flames now rising as high as the tops of the shacks lining the pier. The blaze was still contained on the dock, but unless the sailors on deck began to fight them back, the Jolly Roger would be taking damage soon.
Following Harry on board, she ducked behind a railing as two men came up from below to see what the commotion was about. The men passed by without a glance in their direction. It was a good hiding place, sheltered from the crew coming up the stairs and shielded from the back so they couldn't be snuck up on. They'd need to wait for all of the sailors to clear out from below so they could get to the lock box.
As they huddled in their hiding place, Melody's heart would not stop slamming against her ribcage. It was as though the terrified organ was trying to escape her body out the front of her chest. She clung to the back of Harry's coat, trying to find some semblance of calm in his closeness. But with the fire, the smoke, and the screams of the sailor's everywhere, she was feeling the panic rising.
"It's alright," Harry said, likely feeling how hard she was squeezing him. "We've got the perfect spot, now we wait it out for a minute."
He wrapped his arm around her, holding her closer as they stooped in the darkness. He peeked over the railing periodically to see if it was clear for them yet, but for the next minute, crewmen seemed to come out of the woodwork to fight the blaze.
A thunderous command carried over the smoke and flames. "Find them! Find the sea scum who dared attack my ship!"
When Harry flinched at the sound of the voice, she knew instantly who it was.
Captain James Hook.
Melody peeked over Harry's shoulder in time to see Uma and Gil leading a gang of a dozen angry, sword swinging pirates on a chase in the opposite direction. So far, the plan was going off exactly as they'd hoped. Uma and Gil had caused an enormous distraction which would allow them to slip in and out quickly with the lock box full of pixie dust.
Now the remaining crew who weren't a part of the chase, were busy carrying water buckets, trying to douse the flames. The fire was burning so high now, its sweltering heat prickled her skin from across the length of the ship.
One more group of men came from down below, and after they had gone, Harry seemed confident they would be the last to come up.
"Go!" Harry held onto the railing and kicked out, propelling himself down the stairs in dramatic fashion. Melody took the stairs behind him, trying to keep up.
Below deck, the air was dank and thick with tobacco smoke. The only light flickered dimly from the handful of lanterns on the walls that were still in working order. And in the darkness, Harry was moving like a ghost, silent, as he peeked around corners and led them through the twisting underbelly of the Jolly Roger. She tried to match him step for step, watching where he placed his feet, how he bent his knees to keep his footfalls lighter.
Finally, he stopped in front of a locked door that looked like every other door they had seen and passed by. He knelt down, retrieved something from his breast pocket, and jammed it into the doorknob. Add lockpicking to the list of villainous skills Harry had mastered, because the lock clicked and Harry flashed her a smirk as he entered the room.
He was definitely enjoying this.
The room was crammed with boxes, chests, and a random mish mash of old brass candlesticks, overturned chalices, tapestries and the like. Moonlight streamed in through a single port-hole at the back of the space adding just enough light to reveal the thick layer of dust covering just about everything.
"We're looking for a wooden lock box about yay big," he said, holding up his hands making a square about six inches by six inches. "It's got brass ribbing on the sides and a gold lock on the front."
Melody looked around the room, realizing they had their work cut out for them. This place was a disaster.
Harry closed the door, locking it from the inside, and they searched. They unearthed years of random spoils of looting, robbery, and general pirate pillaging. Dust motes crowded the air in the tiny room, choking out what little breathable oxygen had been there in the first place as she and Harry turned over boxes, opened latches, and rearranged stacks of endless junk. Finally, Melody moved a rolled-up rug off of a shelf and a box that had been stowed behind it was revealed. Its golden lock glinted tantalizingly in the moonlight.
She lifted it and held it out for Harry to inspect.
"That's it!" he said taking the box from her hands and kissing it.
"Hold it again for a wee bit. Let's make sure it's got the goods inside." He set it back in her outstretched hands and got to work.
She held it still for him as he tinkered with the tiny gold lock. This one took a bit longer than the door, and he tried several times to re-shape his pick. Eventually, the lock relented, and he cracked open the lid.
He parted the pillowy packing material inside and held up two vials with a devilish grin on his face. "Looks like he's been collectin' since I last knew. He's got a second bottle of it, now!"
He closed up the box and passed it to her and then he was dashing to the door, wasting no time snaking his way back through the long corridors. She followed close at his heels as they tried to surface from the bowels of the ship. They had just reached the bottom of the stairwell leading back up to the main deck, with Melody having the very ill-timed thought of how easy this had been so far, when she caught a glimpse of a silhouette standing at the top of the stairwell.
They stopped, standing motionless, praying whoever it was hadn't seen or heard their approach from below. Melody's breathing was suddenly far too noisy for this moment, so she tried to hold in, tried to stop her heart from beating so loudly in her chest.
"Well, at least I can say you inherited my flair for the dramatic," the voice at the top of the stairs growled. "Unfortunately, you got your mother's pea-brain to go with it."
