Melody watched from above, hidden in the crawlspace, as three of Sparrow's crewman rushed in, filling the very small room with their oversized bodies. Their long jackets looked like they'd just been dredged up from the sea floor and their skin was pale, hanging off their bones like threadbare curtains. Their dark stares were unnatural - too-black as though the pupils had expanded to replace the whites of their eyes.

She waited for more men to enter and was filled with a rush of hope when no more came. It was only the three. Harry could more than handle three men in a swordfight. Their R.O.A.R. coach had begun setting small teams against him a month ago. He rarely lost.

But then two more heads poked into the doorway, one very familiar pruney-face among them. And beyond him, further down the corridor she heard more bootsteps. She guessed anywhere between eight to ten men total. Too many, even for Harry.

And there was no swallowing past the lump that had formed in her throat now.

Harry had his sword in his hand, but he didn't raise it. It seemed his tactic was not to fight, at least not right away. Instead, he stood by as Sparrow's men searched every inch of the room. They looked under the bed, on the small dresser, even in the drawers - as if anyone could fit there. When one crewman's gaze drifted across the ceiling, she was sure everyone down below could hear her heart pounding against the ceiling boards.

"Cannae a man get a wink of sleep 'round 'ere?" Harry drawled, in the most dead-on imitation of drunken speech she'd ever heard. This had all the crew's eyes back on him and Melody exhaled the breath she'd been holding.

"Where is she?" the one with the familiar growly voice said.

"Who?" And here was the part where, if he had his hook, Harry would have twirled it around and caught it or used it to pick non-existent food from his teeth. Instead, he splayed his fingers in front of him, as if suddenly interested in picking the dirt out from under his nails. He even added a fake-wobble and caught himself on the door frame.

Harry should forget the shipping trade business and head straight to acting school.

Growly Voice squared himself to Harry and closed the space between them. "Don't play stupid, ye scabby sea slug. Where is the mermaid wench?"

She braced herself for his explosion with that, but Harry's only reaction was the subtle clench of his fist around his sword. A sign only she would pick up on.

"Left me with the bluest balls I ever had, mate." All of Harry's consonant sounds were perfectly thick and slushy in his mouth as he continued his drunken act. "She wou'dnae put out, so I put her out, savvy?"

He laughed his wild Harry laugh and it was so convincing that Growly looked back at the two other men, his bushy brows drawn up in question.

"Ye can come tell that to the Captain then," he said. "Better your head on a platter than mine."

"Aye, let's go," Harry said, slapping a hand on Growly's back. "Yeh boys got summat to drink on the way?"

But the other pirate didn't answer, he just shoved Harry out the door. Even so, Melody realized, they hadn't bothered to disarm him. He had just walked right out of that room, in full control of himself, still holding his sword.

The drunk pirate schtick had been particularly effective.

Melody waited. And waited. She waited with the stifling, black space closing in around her until all she could hear was her own breath scraping against her windpipe, her own pulse throbbing in her temples. She waited until her happy thoughts had completely run out, leaving her flat on her belly on the filthy ceiling boards.

Only then, did she begin to squirm out of her hiding spot.

She had to squeeze every last drop of happiness she could from her memory to fuel her escape. With her heart so tight and constricted with fear, it was more difficult to find what was left of the joy. But concentrating long and hard on Harry's teasing smile, she squeezed through the hole in the ceiling and floated down into the tiny bedroom below.

Darting to the door, she turned the handle gently, trying not to make a sound. The metal was unnaturally cold against her palm and goosebumps prickled her skin from her hand all the way up.

The hallway was silent when she peeked out, so she pushed off the floor to fly along the ceiling boards. Spiderwebs clung to her face, but she continued to skim high, only dipping down to pull open the handle of the front door. She never paused to look behind her, even when she heard the innkeeper stumble to his feet.

Once through the door, the sweet smell of the sea washed over her and she took a long cleansing breath of it as she walked around to the darkened side of the building. Out of view of wandering eyes, she pushed herself up into the air once more, perching on top of the two-story inn, looking out over the small village at the heart of Skull Rock. She wanted a bird's eye view of what was going on and she got it.

But she didn't really need it, because the black sails dead ahead would be unmistakable from any vantage point.

The Black Pearl was docked at the pier, and it was fully manned by the look of it. The amount of action on the dock was unnatural for the middle of the night. Stooped-backed sailors and drunks littered the walkways. Pirates lounged in small groups. Others were still working late into the night, loading and unloading goods.

She needed to get closer to find Harry. But how, without being seen?

A man passed out drunk across the steps of the Scrum and Chum gave her an idea. Flying would be way too obvious, but stumbling? That could definitely work.

She hopped down from the roof, using the pixie dust to lighten her steps.

When she neared the man sprawled across the stairs, the smell of sour ale and vomit filled her nose and she knew she'd chosen the right target. Glancing around to see it was clear, she slipped the man's coat off his limp shoulders and wrapped it around her. Melody's hat was far too pretty, so she stuffed it into her coat and used his dingy over-sized cap instead. She also remembered to switch out her real locket for the fake, making sure to clasp the replica around her neck just in case she was discovered.

She caught a whiff of herself as she made the switch.

Well, she smelled piss-drunk, now she just needed to look it. As she began her stumbling trek toward the dock, she quickly realized she was not as good at this type of thing as Harry was. But her path was already laid out, so she placed her hand on the sword at her hip, dragged a leg behind her, and made for the Black Pearl.

It worked. No one gave her a second glance and she wobbled her way to the main pier jutting out into the lagoon inside of Skull Rock. Crew were loading crates of supplies onto the ship and she had a view of the deck from where she leaned against a light-post hung with oil lamps.

She scanned the deck from under the low brim of her hat, her heart flipping violently when she caught sight of Harry.

What in sweet seas was he doing?

He had one arm around a scantily clad redhead and was holding a bottle of rum in the other. The woman had her head tipped back in jubilant laughter, her ample breasts practically spilling out of her top which she hadn't bothered to button up more than halfway. Harry was still talking with Growly, but now the crewman wasn't threatening Harry, he was actually laughing with him.

A pack of sailors and pirates had crowded around and Harry broke into song.

So merry, so merry, so merry are we,

No mortal on earth's like a sailor at sea,

So merry are we as we're sailing along,

Give a sailor his grog and then nothing goes wrong.

Melody felt her spirits lifting, taking flight as a feeling of swelling pride ballooned inside of her and she was walking towards Harry without a second thought. The light, cheery cadence of his voice was a mooring-line to her soul, towing her in like a lost ship finding its way back to port.

"Where's yer captain boys?" Harry asked the crew. "We're havin' such a great time, dinnae yeh think he should be invited?" Every syllable dripped with joy as Harry spoke. Each sound was a pure dash of delight and the men were leaning into his every word, some already scrambling down below deck to call up the Captain. "That's right, I just need to – "

A familiar voice sliced through the celebration. "Get your hands off my wench."

Captain Zach Sparrow ascended the staircase and Melody stopped in her tracks, wondering what she'd been thinking trying to get closer. She blinked away a strange fog that had begun to invade her senses and side-stepped, hoping she hadn't been seen and ducked behind a crate, craning her neck to see what was happening on deck.

Sparrow strutted slowly up the remaining steps, his long black coat trailing behind him. The blue gems studding the hilt of Triton's Sword sparkled in the lantern light as he crossed the deck. An amused expression twisted his features as he brought his eyes to rest on Harry who was surrounded by his smiling crew.

"That sweet strumpet is mine," Sparrow said, jabbing a finger toward the female in the skin-tight white blouse that left nothing to the imagination.

Then, the Captain glanced back at Harry and jutted out his lower lip in mock sympathy. "Oh, poor Hooky, has to go stealin' another man's whore? Doesn't your mermaid take care of those needs for you?"

But Harry did not take the bait. Instead, he started in on a second verse of his little sea shanty.

So merry, so merry, so merry are we,

Our –

Sparrow lunged forward, flicking Triton's Sword from its sheath, and held it to Harry's throat. "No more of that."

And she had no idea how Harry had the gall to do it, but with a blade to his neck, he locked eyes with Zach Sparrow and ran his tongue over the long edge of the blade before licking his lips.

"Gag him," Sparrow ordered to the men at his side, never taking the sword from Harry's neck.

The crew, who were now blinking and staring back and forth between Harry and their Captain, hesitated.

One crewman rubbed at his eyes and seemed to come to his senses first, his smile melting away as he reached into his pocket and retrieved a bandana. He stuffed it in Harry's mouth and knotted it around the back of his head. As he did, she saw Sparrow taking something out of his ears and stuffing whatever they were into his pocket before he addressed Harry again. "You are disgusting," he said, spitting at Harry's feet. "And you're getting bolder."

He took a step closer, blade still pressed against Harry's throat looking him up and down. "Or stupider, I can't tell which."

Sparrow's crew shifted backward, stepping away from Harry and their captain to give the two some space, and as they did… Melody's blood froze to ice in her veins.

Moonlight spilled in from high above, through the eyes of Skull Rock, illuminating Growly's face. And Melody's every fear about the crew was confirmed. His flesh melted away under the moon like a trick of the eyes, revealing a skull with tissue dripping from the bones like grotesque stalactites of flesh.

What in the stormy seas was Harry doing? Why wasn't he just flying away? If his pixie dust had run out…

"I knew you'd try something reckless like this once you learned what you were capable of," Sparrow said.

What was he talking about? She felt like she'd missed an important part of this conversation.

But her time was up to consider what was going on because at that moment Harry ducked under Sparrow's blade in a maneuver he'd shown her a dozen times in self-defense practice. He seized the Captain's arm and twisted his wrist violently to disarm him.

That's why he wasn't flying away. He was waiting for his chance at Triton's Sword. Her stupid pirate was facing down the entire crew of the Black Pearl on his own.

The crazy thing was, it almost worked. It would have worked if it was just Harry and Sparrow, but the ghostly crew had reflexes like lightning and they had hands on Harry, pulling him away from their Captain before he could free the weapon.

Sparrow's lip twitched into a snarl before he slapped Harry with such force, he staggered back. "That does not belong to you."

Harry mumbled something against his gag.

Now, she hoped he would just fly away already. There was no way to get the sword now. As soon as he was clear of the crew's hands, he could just launch himself into the air and be gone.

"Took my advice and lost your hook, huh?" Sparrow taunted. "And now you're looking to steal my weapon? Well, I'm not letting this one go." He was rubbing his fingers over the sapphire at the heart of the weapon's hilt. "As you can imagine, it is the key to controlling this lovely crew of mine. Father would be upset if I stole it from him, only to lose it to you."

While he was talking, Sparrow whirled, bending suddenly to hoist a bucket of nearby mop water over Harry's head. Filthy water streamed from Harry's hair, into his eyes, running his eyeliner and Sparrow smiled sadistically.

"Think I'm stupid enough to let you just fly off the way you came in?" he asked.

How had he known? Did he finally get close enough to see the dusting on his shoulders?

"Bind him." He ordered. "Make him walk the plank, boys. Maybe then his mermaid will come out to play."

And Melody felt a surge of relief wash through her. If they forced Harry to walk the plank, she could just sneak into the water, use the locket, and pull him to safety. They wouldn't need to surface until they were completely clear of Skull Rock. They wouldn't have to deal with Sparrow again until they had the ships and crew to face him. On their terms.

Sparrow froze, turning to look around the deck.

"Wait," he said. "On second thought, what would a mermaid love better than having her boyfriend delivered to her all packaged up, safe and sound, under the sea?"

His crew turned to Sparrow, their wicked smiles morphing into lipless, gaping mouths as they caught the moonlight. Growly Voice seemed perkier when he snarled his suggestion. "Can we sweat him Captain? We haven't had that kind of fun in ages."

Melody's stomach dropped out from under her. She'd read enough about pirates to have heard about all kinds of sickening punishments they dreamed up for their enemies. Sweating was when a man was tied to the mast with a short rope and the crew tried to slash and stab at the punished man who could only dance and jump out of the way until he became completely exhausted. Sometimes the most perverted of the lot even had someone playing music while the whole thing went down.

"Well Harry Hook," Captain Zach Sparrow asked, "Are you ready to sweat?"

Harry's answer was the deadliest glare she had ever seen him give and she knew he was about to unleash everything he had.

She was right.

He exploded against Growly first, throwing a fist that sent him reeling backward into another crewman. Then he whirled, kicking another man in the gut and slamming another against the mast, all before managing to sink his sword into another's leg.

Melody briefly considered flying in to help but could see it was pointless from her vantage point. There were too many of them, and they were already closing in. She needed another opening. It took her every ounce of patience she had to sit there and watch, but she knew she needed to wait for the right time, or risk them both being captured.

It took a half a dozen men to finally get Harry under control, pinning him under their knees against the wooden deck. He was bloodied and panting when the crew finally wrestled his sword from him.

"Search him while you're down there, would you?" Sparrow said, sheathing his own sword. "I'm sure he's got more pixie dust hidden away somewhere. Never know when that will come in handy."

The men patted down every one of Harry's many pockets, holsters, and sheaths, coming away with two daggers, a switchblade, his pocket watch and the vial of pixie dust.

Sparrow sauntered over to where Harry lay pinned underneath the knees of his undead sailors and made a show of picking up the pixie dust from one of the crew.

Once Harry's hands were bound behind him, the crew hoisted him to his feet, binding those too, before forcing him to hop along toward the main mast. Sparrow moseyed after them, pinching his lady friend on the rear as he passed.

"You know Hooky, it was your father who forced mine out of Auradon all those years ago," Sparrow said, bending to pick up the bottle of rum Harry had been holding. "With this sword, my father could have fought back. He could have ruled all of the seas, Neverland, Auradon, you name it. But he was too soft."

He took a long draught off the rum, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. "So, I took it from him."

Sparrow looked on as his crew began positioning Harry. One leaned closer to wrap a rope between Harry's bound hands, and in a lightning-fast movement, Harry managed to bury an elbow into the man's face. The crewman growled and clutched at his nose, now streaming blood between his bony fingers.

"Your father was the most feared pirate in your realm." Sparrow continued his one-sided conversation, completely unphased, letting his eyes linger on Harry's. "He must have been so… disappointed."

Harry was a statue, not even flinching.

"That's why you're here isn't it? To see if you can raise the Jolly Roger? Finally make daddy proud?"

Sparrow continued to step closer, boots pounding the deck as he came within a foot of Harry. "Don't you worry, Hooky. I plan to raise the Jolly Roger for you, and after that, every last ship in Neverland. And with all three of Triton's sapphires, there's nothing to stop me from controlling the seas of Earth, Neverland, Auradon and everything in between."

Harry mumbled something under his gag.

"You think you can stop me?" He leaned toward Harry and cocked his head, a saccharine smile slanting his lips. "What could you do? Son of a has-been pirate and a common whore."

Then Captain Zach Sparrow reached out to grab Harry's chin, clasping it roughly and twisting him from side to side, inspecting the angles of his face. The Captain's eyes widened a bit as he leaned in close, locking eyes with Harry. "Well, maybe not a common whore, eh? You've hidden it well, but you can't hide those eyes, can you?"

A sinister smile twisted his expression. "No, I'd say the bitch who whelped you was as uncommon a whore as they come, eh mate?"

Harry looked like he was about to be sick, suddenly pale, a shadow of himself as Sparrow's words lashed him more brutally than any whip ever could. He had closed his eyes now, as though preparing himself for the killing blow.

"I think the mermaid princess is here, boys. Don't you?" he asked, looking off at his crew. They nodded their heads maniacally and their captain grinned in response. "And before we sweat you good, I think she deserves to know the truth of what you really are, Harry Hook."