I'm still making no money. This is just for my own personal entertainment.
Reviews welcome and encouraged! Thanks for the last batch. They really got me working on this. Chapter 8 coming soon.
Beyond World's End by Ecri
Chapter 7
The compass spun uncontrollably anytime Beckett touched it. It was infuriating. It used to do the same for Jack Sparrow. He'd assumed it was a trick. Jack, he thought, had rigged it somehow. Angry beyond measure, he sent for Will Turner.
He laughed to see how the boy tried to pretend he wasn't hurting, tried to hide the weakness and fatigue that must plagued him. "We need to check our heading, Turner." He handed the compass to Turner, pleased to see the tremble in his hands that the blacksmith could not hide.
The moment Turner touched it, the arrow pointed steady.
"Why does it work so well for you, I wonder."
"I know what I want."
"Don't be fooled into thinking that I don't."
Will shook his head and breathed deeply of the salt air before replying. "It doesn't matter what I think. The compass knows. It has no call to hide things. If you don't know what you want or if you want too many things equally, it cannot find a direction."
"How do you know this?"
Will shrugged. "Jack told me."
"Do you believe everything he tells you?"
"No."
"Then why this."
"Because I know when he would lie, and I know when he would tell the truth. It renders the lying irrelevant."
Beckett stared at Will in disbelief. How had the boy learned so quickly how to handle Jack Sparrow? "Do you know how many times your father, Jack, and I stood shoulder to shoulder? Now we are all on opposite sides, willing to sell each other out to get what we want! Do you understand loyalty does not exist?"
Will turned from his study of the horizon to face him. "If loyalty did not exist, you would not try so hard to have me abandon mine."
Beckett had had enough of the younger man. Turner had not broken as he had expected, and Beckett preferred his expectations met. He stared out at the horizon, ignoring Turner's existence. There had to be a way to break the man. In that instant, he had it. If he could not break him through physical duress, he would do so by emotional trauma. Beckett called to his signalman to send a message to the Flying Dutchman. He would speak to Jones about the other William Turner.
**
Will stood as still as possible to avoid jarring any part of his body that hurt. He thought it possible that his ribs could be bruised, but he didn't think them broken. Most of his injuries were minor—bruising and scrapes—but nothing he could not handle and nothing that would not heal in time, with one exception, but he would not dwell on that. He could not, for aside from the physical pain of it, there were ramifications he would not waste time considering until he knew he would live through this ordeal.
His thoughts were torn between his father and Elizabeth. When he had been lying in the brig, he had dreamed of a place and time where he could be with them both, where his children would meet and know their grandfather, and where he and Elizabeth would not be subjected to the prejudices of a society who saw her as marrying beneath her station.
It had been a pleasant dream, but when he had awoken, his reality had seemed twice as harsh.
Jack had told him precious little of Beckett, except that he knew the man. Will knew there was more to the story, and he doubted he would get anything substantial from Beckett himself. The small pieces of information he had gotten had led him nowhere. There were simply too many secrets in his past. Had his mother known his father was a pirate? Had she kept it from him because she thought he might follow in his footsteps? How could she think so little of him?
His voyage to the Caribbean had put any romantic notions of pirates and treasure—if he had had any—well out of his mind. Pirates were thieves, murderers, and worse.
Yet, Jack was a good man. For the most part…except for his penchant for keeping Will in the dark.
He'd only met his father once, and then briefly, but he had seen a good man. Was it wishful thinking? Had he merely read between the lines and created an image of his father as a good man? He certainly didn't know enough about the man to know one way or the other. The only thing he knew about Bootstrap Bill Turner, aside from his name, was that he had been aboard the Black Pearl and had participated, however reluctantly, in the mutiny against Jack. Granted, this had weighed heavily on his conscience, but he had given in to the temptation and marooned Jack.
He scowled, dropping his gaze to the deck. He wasn't any better himself. He had hit Jack from behind and left him for dead when he had rescued Elizabeth from Barbossa. Granted, he had, at the time, believed that Jack was planning to use him as leverage against Barbossa. Since then, he'd convinced himself that that had not been Jack's plan, but there was doubt.
There would always be doubt.
It was all he knew…the one constant in his life. Doubt that he could survive the emotional turmoil of his mother's death; doubt that he could find his father in the Caribbean; doubt that he would survive a pirate attack; doubt that he would find someone to take him in as an apprentice; doubt that he would make a good blacksmith; doubt that Elizabeth would ever love him as he loved her.
But that had changed. He had not doubted that he would find Elizabeth and return her to Port Royal. It was only after recovering her that he again doubted himself in her presence. He had shaken that as well, and, for a time, they had been happy. Until Beckett had arrested them, he had thought he had left the doubts behind him only to have them trouble him once more he had seen Elizabeth kissing Jack on the deck of the Pearl.
That kiss still plagued him. He and Elizabeth had not truly cleared the air after it, and now he wondered if they ever would.
"Turner, good of you to join us!" Beckett's voice held a hint of malice, and Will turned to see why he spoke as if he had not been on deck for hours. Instead of Beckett, however, he saw his father.
His mouth open, he found he could not speak. His father ran to his side. "Will? Have you come for me? I knew you would. You said you would."
Will nodded, but his brow furrowed in concern. Something was off. Something was not right. Before he could speak again, Beckett stepped closer to Will. "His mind is gone. That's what you didn't take into account."
"It's not gone!" He looked frantically at his father, but he babbled on and on. Will shook off the fear and sorrow of seeing him like that. "It doesn't matter. When he is released…"
"He will be a simpleton."
"Why do you care?" Will shouted. "What possible difference could it make to you if he is released sane and hale or insane and shattered?
Beckett's smile was ice. "Care? I do not care for anything but vengeance."
"What vengeance could you wish on my father?"
"Perhaps one day, he'll tell you." Beckett's laughter rang across the deck, and Will could not say which was more horrible to listen to; that laughter, or his father's half mumbled assertions that Will would come for him.
**
Elizabeth's insistence, her arms crossed and her eyes blazing, forced a sigh from Jack Sparrow. "If you want the details, I'll give them to you, but only if you do as I ask."
Elizabeth nodded, and Jack wondered momentarily if she were being honest or if she'd become enough of a pirate to believe that a nod was not a binding oath. Regardless, Jack told his tale.
"Beckett, or Beck as we called him back then, was a man to put your money on. Even then, all who knew him knew he was not going to be satisfied with a small piece of the pie. Not Beck. He wanted the entire bakery. Barbossa, me...most pirates, really, we're after money. It's greed that's our undoing." He saw slight surprise register on their faces. "Don't be so shocked. We know the cause of our own downfall." He was lost in thought for a moment, but the silence snapped him out of it. "Yes, it's greed and gold that ruin most of us. Not so with Beck. His lust was for power. He wanted no less than to rule the world, or at least as much of it as he could manage, and die trying for the rest.
"We'd known each other for some years when he decided pirating was all well and good, but being a Captain, or even having a fleet of ships, wasn't getting him enough influence. He didn't want it. He wanted to rub shoulders with Kings...so he could work out how to be one himself.
"This path that led him to issue warrants for Elizabeth, Will, and Norrington was a long time coming. It started years ago aboard the Evengeline. She was a fair ship, small, though not so fast as some…
The sun shown down as it can only in the Caribbean. Captain Jack Sparrow was glad to be back in familiar waters...not that any sea held unfamiliar waters, but the Caribbean was home. His captain had appointed him first mate several months ago, and he found a natural talent to the job. Keeping the crew in good spirits,
His thought turned repeatedly to the book he'd taken from Beck. Large portions of it were in a language he couldn't read, some in that odd language he somehow did understand, but some of it was in English. Of that, some told tales of great treasure hidden somewhere in the Devil's Triangle.
Before long, he'd become obsessed with finding it.
Sparrow stopped his tale and looked at Elizabeth as though reluctant to continue, but he did. "After a short time we noticed we were being followed. We could make out no colors. We couldn't tell if it be friend or foe, but pirates don't have many friends, so we raised sails and increased our speed.
"We did all he could, but in the end were forced to dump the cargo. When the other ship finally caught the Evangeline, we knew it was unfriendly. It flew a Union Jack, and they were already making up boarding parties and firing cannon.
"We fought well, but were outmatched." He looked away, hiding the discomfort he felt discussing that day with anyone. He had lost half his crew that day, and taken on more than a few scars.
"They put the question to me. Were we pirates? I tried to dissuade them from that unfortunate notion, but their Captain turned to a man in the rear of their boarding party.
"Beckett! You said there'd be loot aboard! What's happened to it! We should at least be able to arrest them for Piracy, or our agreement is worth nothing."
It took me several moments to understand that Beck had betrayed us. He stepped forward then and glared at me. I saw then contempt as I'd never seen it. He had naught but disdain for us…many of us who'd sailed with him for years."
" 'If you look in the brig, you'll find enough to make any charges stick.' That's what he told them, and that's where they looked. How he remembered that I used to hide a bit down there, I'll never know. I thought only me and Boostrap knew about that. I made a step toward the man, my fury taking hold of me, but Bootstrap stopped me.
"Beck only laughed, and, staring at me, he reached behind the captain for a bucket that held something smoldering. I realized then what he meant to do, but by then, the men of the boarding party had taken hold of me. There was nothing I could do but scream as Beck himself, my good friend, put the iron to my arm."
Jack was silent for some time, watching the ghosts of the past as they played out their familiar dance.
Elizabeth leaned forward and stared into his eyes. "And that is the man you sent Will to see?" Jack flinched, but did not move away. Slowly, he turned to face her. "Beck will not harm Will."
"How can you know that?"
"I will protect your Will. Just be sure when I have that you don't hurt him, either."
"What?"
Jack smiled the same smile he'd worn when he'd called Elizabeth a pirate on the deck of the Pearl as she chained him to it to ensure her own escape. "Don't pretend you're all treacle and flowers, love. Will never knew you'd killed me until he put it all together in the locker, and for a man like him, betrayal and dishonesty cut deep."
Flustered, Elizabeth looked away. It was true. "You let me worry about that! You just be sure we get him back!"
"Aye, lass, we'll get your laddie back, but to do it, you have to do as I ask."
He saw her reluctance, but she agreed to his terms.
**
Elizabeth listened in rapt attention to Sparrow's tale, horrified for the first time of a true pirate adventure. She sensed no hyperbole. Jack was being honest. Her fear for Will tripled by the end of the story. She wanted to take Jack Sparrow to task for what he had done. Leaving Will to that evil man's mercy was unforgivable. Of course, so was leaving Jack to the mercy of the Kraken.
She was startled by the realization. She was indeed, as he had often said, a Pirate.
Will was her priority, however. She would see him safe, and then she would deal with the consequences of both her actions and her nature.
She glanced at Norrington and saw him nod slightly. He would support her. He would help her get Will back, just as he'd promised. She turned to exact the same promise from Jack, but she saw something in his eyes as they prepared to meet Beckett; she could not place it until much later. It hit her just as she went ashore to meet with Beckett and Jones. It was fear.
**
Will had taken the beatings well enough as any man could, but his father's state was his undoing. Fever assailed him and it was all he could do to keep his feet, but his every thought was of his father. Would destroying Jones return Bootstrap Bill to himself or would he be feeble-minded all the rest of his days, asking for his son and not knowing he was there?
Beckett's decision to bring him to meet with the Pirates was disturbing and Will fought against it. He did not wish to leave his father once more. Who knew what he would find when—if—he returned. He had no choice. Cutler Beckett did not give him one. Once again, Will Turner was leverage.
He could only hope that Jack had saved Elizabeth from Sao Feng's crew. His hands were tied none too gently. Jones was taking delight as great as Beckett's in Will's discomfort.
Jones handed him off to several of the Dutchman's crew members to be loaded into a dinghy as so much cargo. To Will's surprise, his father was permitted to assist in the task. Bootstrap tried to be gentle, but it was an impossible task. Too many sea oddities had found themselves attached to William Turner, Senior to allow his touch to be gentle. Starfish, spiny shells Will could not identify...creatures of every kind oozed around his father, part of him yet not.
"Will, my boy, are ye well?"
Will sighed. It was the moments of clarity that made the obvious insanity so hard to bear. He could almost convince himself that Bootstrap Bill had returned to him, but then, he would slip back and ask if Will were here to save him. How he might be considered a hero was beyond consideration. He was trussed, wounded, and beaten, Will Turner thought only of breaking these bonds rescuing his father and his Love—if she were still his—and returning to Port Royal. It all seemed impossibly out of reach, and he was counting on the sight of Jack Sparrow to inspire him to...something.
Once they'd reached the strip of beach, Will stood swaying to Beckett's right. Bootstrap stood behind him our of Will's sight. Will could see the approaching Pirate Lords. He recognized Jack and Barbossa immediately, but the other two he could not place. the one to Jack's right was slighter, smaller, yet certainly imposing in stride and demeanor. It wasn't until she'd stopped that recognition smacked him in the face.
"Elizabeth?" He spoke without thought, and received a slap from Beckett that, with his arms still bound, made it impossible to keep his balance. The slap sent him to the sand unable to break his fall.
He shook his head hoping to stop its ringing, and realizing he was missing something.
"...no cause." Jack's voice. Will was unable to get up with his hands bound. He glanced to the Pirate Lords as Jack continued. "We're here to offer you a choice: Peace or War. Your call, mate."
Beckett laughed. "I am here to offer you death or...death. No pirate will live out this day."
Jack swayed a bit and leaned forward, his smile vicious and knowing. "That include you, Beck?"
Beckett did not respond to Jack but turned instead to the man next to Barbossa. "You've fallen hard."
"I've...chosen sides." The voice was Norrington's and WIll squinted at the man to find the familiar features. It was the Commodore...or Admiral...and he was standing with the Pirates.
Elizabeth crossed her arms across her chest. "We're here to tell you that we'll fight. You won't take us down so easily."
Will's thoughts swam. She spoke as though she were in command, and Jack and more shockingly, Barbossa, seemed to allow it. Will felt as though he'd been reading a novel only to find that he'd somehow missed several chapters. All the people who should be here were, yet they did not act themselves or at the least they did not act as he had expected.
Beckett nodded. "Then you chose a hard death, but no matter. You will not last the night."
"Nor will you." Elizabeth nearly spat at him, and Will saw ferocity and determination in equal parts. She was at once familiar and strange. "Now, we discuss terms."
"Terms?" Beckett asked, a ghost of a smile crossing his face. "This is no parlay. What do you think you have that we want?"
"We give you Jack. You give us Will."
"Elizabeth?" Will was surprised by the words, but even more surprised when Davy Jones and Beckett both accepted the terms.
Jack turned on Elizabeth, calling her a pirate.
Barbossa turned on her. "You can't do that."
She stared at him through angry eyes. "King."
Will's confusion was growing by leaps and bounds, but he would not allow Jack's freedom to be the price of his own. "I will not agree to this."
Jack smiled at him even as he helped the whelp up. "You've no choice in the matter. That which is being traded has no right to question the trade, even if the traders are traitors."
"Jack…"
"Let it go, Lad." Jack whispered in his ear. Then Jack was tied and led away as Will's bonds were cut.
As he walked away with Barbossa, Norrington, and Elizabeth, he asked her, "King?"
"Courtesy of Jack Sparrow."
"Captain Jack Sparrow," Will made the correction automatically. As they walked, he saw a tear standing in Elizabeth's eye. He wanted to speak to her, to ask about how she'd become King of the Pirates when last he'd seen her, she'd been the been the new Captain of a crew unlikely to follow her orders. He wanted to ask what had passed between her and Jack, but he knew now was not the time for such things. Wait for the opportune moment was what Jack would tell him. He could not help but wonder if he would live long enough to reach it, and if he would recognize it when he did. He never had yet.
He stopped suddenly realization standing like a brick wall in front of him. Barbossa, Norrington, and Elizabeth stopped as well, turning to look at him.
"The opportune moment is always now." He whispered the words, and the intensity of the moment shone in his eyes, causing Elizabeth to take a tentative step back.
"Will? Are you all right?"
He almost laughed. He knew what a sight he was, beaten, bruised, his wrists chafed and bleeding from the ropes so recently removed. He stood on a strip of sand that would disappear in high tide having just born witness to the declaration of war between the Pirates and Beckett—whomever Beckett represented. He should be on Port Royal, returning from his honeymoon, taking over the business Brown had left him, planning a future…
"Elizabeth," he said crossing the short space that separated them. "I love you. I don't know what's going on, but I need you to know that I have not wavered." He stopped, his eyes searching hers, which stared back at him in puzzlement.
Will watched as Elizabeth tore her attention from the impending battle, from Jack, and from whatever else troubled her. Her eyes softened and he saw once more his Elizabeth somewhere inside this Pirate King.
"Will, I love you, too. I have always loved you. I should have told you that the moment we met." Will smiled, tentatively, still somehow uncertain that all he'd ever wanted might have wanted him just as long. "But…what about Jack?"
"Jack?" She shook her head. "He is a friend and no more. I find his lifestyle attractive."
"You want to be a pirate."
She shook her head. "No, Will. I want to be a blacksmith's wife."
He blinked, and then a smile spread across his face. He swept her into his arms and kissed her as he would have had they married. It was a long, deep kiss and he put his love, his passion, and his desire into it. When they finally pulled apart for breath, he knew.
She loved him.
"I hate to break up the reunion," Barbossa's voice intruded. "But it seems to me we've a war to wage." He walked past the two toward the Black Pearl.
Norrington came behind them, and opened his mouth to speak, but could only swallow. After another moment, he clapped a hand on a shoulder of each. "Congratulations," he whispered and walked away.
They followed, racing toward the Pearl hand in hand.
**
The Flying Dutchman had always been an imposing ship even before it had become the ghostly specter of the sea. Sitting alongside the Endeavor it did seem the more formidable of the two ships, though that was likely because of the otherworldliness. Jack wasn't impressed by otherworldliness. He'd been threatened by the undead before. He'd even briefly been undead himself. Come to think of it, he'd briefly been dead as well. Nothing would keep Captain Jack Sparrow down. Not now. Not after all he'd been through. It was only a matter of time. Things were going according to plan.
Elizabeth had played her part well. Aboard the Dutchman, he would find what he needed and he would use it. He was locked away in the brig, watching the transformed crew members walk away. When he realized he was well and truly alone, fear slipped once more into place behind his eyes as he called out to the ceiling.
"Hello?" There was no answer. A confident smile once more came over him as he walked to the hull. "Hello?" Consternation brought the frown, but when he looked to deck. Encrusted with living creatures, bits of shell, and the detritus of sailors who were more sea creature than human, it seemed to writhe and undulate beneath his feet. He squatted down, cupping a hand around his mouth and shouting down to the deck, "Helllllooo!"
Annoyance drove the mad sparkle from his eyes. "Well, that's a fine how do you do. I've done my part!" He yelled, looking up, then around at the air. "I've gotten myself thrown into the brig! Aren't you meant to be helping me out?" He waited expectantly, but there was no reply from wherever he expected one. Anger crept into his tone. "Oi!" He called out loudly.
No help. He was well and truly alone. He looked up again, a sound drawing his attention to the stairs. There he saw Bootstrap. "Bootstrap!" Come along and help!"
Bootstrap made his way to Jack's cell. "Did you come with Will?"
"What? No!"
"My boy said he'd come for me!"
"He will, but I've got better help." He looked down as the smallest trickle of seawater seeped through the deck.
Jack laughed triumphantly. "There it is now!"
Bootstrap stared at the water. "And ye called me mad."
**
He should have felt anticipation, but all he felt was calm. An odd peace the likes he'd never known kissed the air with the promise of achievement, of glory, of power. Cutler Beckett stood on deck of the Endeavor awaiting the opportune moment to strike. This day, he knew, would see the end of Jack Sparrow, Hector Barbossa, indeed of every pirate in the Caribbean. They would all perish today. Swann, Norrington, Will Turner, even the Dutchman…all gone by this time tomorrow.
Beckett inhaled the scent of the sea aware that this calm he felt would soon evaporate into a battle the likes of which none had seen since the dawn of time. Jack had thought keeping the book would stop this day from coming, but the truth was, Cutler Beckett had committed that book to memory. He'd followed its instructions to the letter, even if the book itself collected dust aboard the Pearl. Nothing now stood in his way. Tia Dalma would remember the debt she owed him, and even if she did not, he knew something of her that would bind her to him.
He knew her name. According to the book Sparrow had stolen, that was powerful magic.
Her name was not Tia Dalma. She used that as well as Calypso and many others, though she'd long preferred Calypso to her given name. The one constant in the occult, in all magic, was naming magic. He knew what no other—not Jack Sparrow, not Boostrap Bill or his whelp of a son or even Elizabeth Swann—knew.
He was not afraid to use it. Tia Dalma, and many others over the years had tried to ensure he would be afraid of just that, but his thirst for the power that should be his was not assuaged by promises of treasure or of domination of some corner of the world. No. He knew what he wanted.
"I want it all." He looked across at Shipwreck Cove, noticed the ships moving slowly away from it toward him. "And I want it now."
**
The ships moved slowly, drifting almost lazily toward each other in direct contrast to the frantic movements of their crews who dashed about the decks, climbed the rigging, and prepared the cannon for battle. Will Turner did what he could, calling out orders without realizing that was what he was doing, and offering his own strong back in the labors of war, adrenaline and love helped him ignore his own pains.
His focus was on these activities, on saving the ship, saving Elizabeth, and, with luck, his father. He still longed for more than a stolen moment alone with Elizabeth, to discuss what had happened, to ask for explanations and to offer apologies for his own readiness to believe the worst. He longed to hold her, but knew there was little time, and truthfully, their preoccupation with their work saved him from the worry he knew his condition would cause. He knew he was on his feet by the force of adrenaline alone, and he would not cause her worry. She was, after all, and inexplicably, the Pirate King. She had a fleet of Pirate ships to lead.
He was convinced all he needed was rest. He ached from the beatings, and his head was still spinning with thoughts of his father and how Will might be able to free him. Once this was all well and truly behind them, assuming they survived it, he would have a chance to recover.
For now, there was too much to do.
He watched Norrington as he discussed with Elizabeth and Barbossa the likely tactics the Endeavor would employ. The men aboard were Royal Navy trained. Regardless that their leader was little more than a privateer at best or a pirate at worst, the men would conduct themselves as Navy men would.
Will moved closer to hear the discussion. He felt still somewhat of an outsider, still uncertain how Elizabeth was suddenly able to order these men around, still curious where he fit into her new world.
He watched her discussing tactics and firepower with men much older than she was, watched her in her element. She gave commands as though born to do so, and, some would argue that she was. Of course, the orders women of her status were expected to give had little to do with war or sailing. Her confidence, her aura of control, gave her authority that none could deny.
He approached the trio and stood waiting to be acknowledged. It took a moment, but Elizabeth finally sought his face, his eyes. "The cannon are ready." He gave the report as though that were all he'd intended to do while he'd waited for her to speak to him, but watching her had always been one of his favorite pastimes.
Elizabeth nodded and moved to his side. "The battle will begin soon."
He nodded, unsure if he was meant to be comforted or to comfort her. "The men are ready. All of them." He inclined his head toward the other ships, all moving in formation and flanking the Pearl as though she were head of an armada, and, except for it being a rather small armada, he supposed that's what they were.
"Elizabeth," he whispered, and when she looked up at him, he felt his breath catch in his throat as it had in Port Royal before either of them had ever set foot on a pirate ship or had ever heard of Cursed Gold, the Flying Dutchman, or World's End.
He opened his mouth to say more, but a sharp pain stabbed through his chest. His hand flew to rest above his heart and he made a soft sound like a cross between a moan and a gasp.
"Will?" She placed a hand on his back. He could feel the warmth of it, her touch almost electrifying so that he had to arch his back to break the contact. Losing his balance, he fell to the deck, Elizabeth immediately at his side, Norrington on hers.
"Will? What is it?"
Will shook his head. "I'll be fine." He whispered the words, and his eyes searched the deck for Tia Dalma. He caught site of her. She walked to his side.
"I vowed only to wait until de Brethren Court was over to delay my claim on you, Will Turner." She smiled slowly and moved to put her hand over his heart, but Elizabeth stepped between them.
"Whatever it is you want will have to wait until the battle is won." Elizabeth stood straight and proud, one hand resting on the hilt of her sword, and the other holding the knife Tia Dalma had passed to Will before he'd tried to take Sao Feng's charts.
Tia Dalma screamed, her hands reaching out for the blade. "Where…'ow did you…"
Elizabeth smiled, but said nothing. Tia Dalma scowled and almost hissed at her, but she broke away and moved below deck.
Will turned to face Elizabeth. "How did you get that? I thought I lost it to Sao Feng."
"You did. He made me Captain of his ship just before he died. This was in his cabin."
Will shook his head. "I will never catch up. I've missed too much."
"I've missed you." She said the words in the softest of whispers and leaned up to kiss him.
As she did, his hand rubbed once more at the spot on his chest above his heart. He wished Jack had explained himself better. Somehow, Jack always managed to divert attention away from important matters long enough for Will and Elizabeth to end up doing his bidding once more.
"Elizabeth, why did Jack want you to trade him for me?"
She pulled away, eyes wide with shock. "How did you know?"
"It wasn't hard to figure out. Jack wants something aboard the Endeavor or the Dutchman. Which is it?"
"The Dutchman. He's going after Davy Jones. He wants the chest."
"But if he kills the heart…"
"He knows that." She shrugged unhappily and he knew that she, too, did not know everything. Jack was keeping secrets. "He said it wouldn't have the same effect on him."
"What wouldn't? Stabbing the heart?"
Again Elizabeth shrugged.
Will would have pursued the conversation, but a call went out from Cotton's Parrot. The battle was about to begin.
**
Jack Sparrow stared down at the water seeping through the decking. It moved sluggishly at first, but soon bubbled up with greater speed and purpose. It did not behave like water. It did not fill the room by degrees, its form determined by the shape of what might contain it. Instead it moved oddly, ethereally. It climbed up in twin columns from the floor then the columns joined and it continued to grow forming legs, a torso, arms. In moments, a duplicate of Captain Jack Sparrow, constructed entirely of seawater, stood before him, turning its transparent face toward the door and stepping through the bars. It disregarded the fact that it had to separate from parts of itself and rejoin once through the bars. Instead, it turned to face Jack from the opposite side.
Jack seemed a little concerned, not that a replica of himself made of water stood before him, but rather that it had managed to escape where he had not. "Come on, mate, you need to get me out of here. I can't find it from here."
The Water Sparrow appeared to think it over, as much as its vague features could appear to do anything, and then a hand was placed over the lock. Water flowed inside it and it began to rattle against the bars filling past its capacity before bursting. Jack stepped through the now opened door and gestured for the Water Sparrow to take the lead. Water Sparrow doffed its hat and moved toward the stairs.
Creeping along the deck of the Dutchman was easier than Jack would have guessed. He assumed his companion somehow heard other members of the crew and was able to pick a route free of potential hazards.
Reaching Mullroy and Murtogg did not put Jack's mind at rest. Lacking the energy of a confrontation, and unwilling to dive into the sea to rescue anyone at this juncture just to escape their company, Jack played upon the insanity everyone believed he possessed, and turned to the Water Sparrow.
"There it is."
The Water Sparrow considered the chest before turning to face Jack.
"There it is." Jack insisted. "The thump-thump is in there."
Mullroy and Murtogg stared at him, and, when the Water Sparrow stepped closer, they dropped their weapons and stepped back their hands held high.
Once Sparrow and his water shadow had left with the chest, Mullroy turned to Murtogg. "First the sea creatures are the crew, then the sea itself…I can't take much more."
For once, Murtogg kept his silence.
To Be Continued