Did everybody find the terminology explanations helpful in the last chapter, or just downright annoying and insulting to their intelligence? I hope the last chapter wasn't too confusing; from what I can tell everybody seemed to understand it, and find some action through it, which is good. I was concentrating on trying to make everything make sense, so I was worried there'd be too much explanation and not enough action.

A flash of lightning blazed and Alex's eyes feverishly searched the decks for Will. All around her stood her crew-mates, limp and mute in shock. Without warning, the rain had stopped; the wind died down. It was as if the storm had stopped to survey the damage it had created and admire its handiwork. The Black Pearl was in the eye of the storm - a protective circle of complete calm, while the storm raged all around and the ocean tossed and heaved. The silence and tranquillity was somehow more eerie and unnatural than the rampant storm. All around the ship was a wall of water caused by the torrential rain; yet the skies about and above the Black Pearl were clear. The fallen mast hovering above the deck creaked ominously, the straining cables barely holding its weight. Alex moved cautiously towards the suspended mast, looking hopefully and carefully for any sign of Will underneath, but with a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach. She desperately wanted to find Will underneath the mast, but she wanted to find him alive and intact. Light pattering of dripping water was the only faint sound that could be heard.

A scraping sound broke the almost-silence. The pirates automatically jumped back a fraction, expecting another canvas or mast to fall. Hurriedly looking up, heart rising in her chest in hope, Alex sighted the cause. Gripping the dagger set deep to the hilt in the wood of the main mast was Will, hanging precariously 50 feet above deck, nothing between him and death but four inches of folded metal imbedded in wood. There was a drag mark of at least 3 feet scratched into the mast's wood above where he now perilously hung. Will had plunged his dagger into the mast and simply jumped off the yard-arm, hoping the dagger would finally bite into the wooden mast and take his weight, which it eventually had. Even now the dagger was slipping further and further down the mast, loosened from the wood by his weight.

"Grab the canvas!" Jack shouted, and all the crew swarmed around the fallen sail crumpled on the deck. Stretching it out tightly underneath Will to form a crude trampoline, they all called up to him.

"LET GO!"

Will didn't need to be told twice, as he unhesitatingly relinquished his grip on the dagger, falling onto the taunt canvas. After bouncing several times, Will settled in the middle of the canvas, lying on his back. Looking up at the now-clear sky, he sighed in annoyance.

"Typical." He stated lightly as he clamoured out of the sail; he'd put his life on the line cutting down the sails, and now the wind had died down. He walked up to Alex – who was mute and stock-still in shock at seeing Will alive and safe- and patted her on the shoulder.

"Where's my dagger?" Alex said at length, her voice finally returning.

"It's your turn to cut down the sails, so you can collect it while you're up there." Will grinned, as they both peered up to where the dagger's hilt now innocently gleamed, 50 feet up from the deck. They both knew that the dagger would remain there for a very, very long time.

"On second thoughts, I don't really need it just now."

- - - - - - -

In the brief calm the eye of the storm provided, Jack took the time to order those injured to the ship's sick bay. The remaining crew either helped those injured to the sick bay, or tried to secure the rigging and fallen mast. Jack also let all the crew go back to their quarters to get warmer clothing. As Will was searching in his battered sea trunk for some thermal clothes, he was shocked to see a large patch of crimson blossoming around his shoulder. Hurriedly he pulled his soaked shirt off to see a large splinter of wood embedded in his upper arm. Some of the wood from the split mast must have flown into him. Will counted himself lucky that it hadn't hit any vital organs or arteries. Actually, he counted himself lucky he had survived that experience at all. He recalled the feeling of absolute horror and dread he felt as he saw the mast plummeting towards him… That inescapable knowledge that he was almost certainly dead; and had just stared death straight in it's face. Time had slowed down as he watched the mast crashing towards him, the rigging and cables flailing and twisting loosely after it. And the heart-stopping, mind-jolting, cold, pure fear as he gritted his teeth, closed his eyes and launched himself off his solid perch and scraped down the mast, so certain that the dagger wouldn't bite into the wood; wouldn't take his weight. He had never felt so helpless in his life.

Will could feel himself reliving the moment again, feel the dizzying emptiness of hanging suspended in air, wind buffeting all around him, tearing through his clothes, intent on finishing the job it began; making him crash to the deck of the Black Pearl. He made the conscious effort to turn his thoughts away from reliving that memory, and focused back on the present – his injured arm. Tentatively he tested his shoulder, moving it in a small circle. He didn't feel any pain. It must be the shock, he thought in the rational, calm, detached manner that shock provides, but the cold weather probably helps. Before he had second thoughts, Will grasped the protruding wood and sharply yanked it out, gritting his teeth in pain. He quickly wound a frayed bandage around his arm, pulled his sodden shirt over his head and headed back up to the decks.

Will emerged back on deck and was almost blown off the ship as the wind returned, doubled in force. As it was, unprepared, Will stumbled to his knees onto therain-slicked deck. Staggering and leaning almost doubled-over into the wind, Will made his way over to the nearest mast. The remaining sails had torn themselves to shreds, or torn themselves away from their spars completely, but were now flapping loosely, and played havoc with the attached ropes and rigging. The ropes and heavy rigging, embedded with metal and other things undesirable to be assailed with unsuspectingly, were writhing and slithering around the ship like trapped snakes, only twice as deadly. Almost as if possessed, the cordage could ensnare human arms, legs or necks and suddenly yank them any which way the winds pleased.

The ropes impeded the pirate's task, and those unfortunate enough to be ensnared by the coils counted themselves lucky if they retained their limbs. The sailors' trapped limbs were jerked roughly by the thrashing ropes, causing severe burns at the least, but often cutting down to the bone, or with the force of the wind behind it, pulling the sailor off his feet, and either stranding them feet above the decks, surrounded by whipping rigging and fluttering sails, or cast the sailor heavily back to the decks or overboard. Those with the ropes entangled around their necks were lucky not to be strangled or hanged in the pandemonium. As soon as the pirates felt the familiar tug and wet rope at the wrists, ankles, arms or necks, any unsheathed daggers were quickly drawn and the ropes were hacked at forcefully, abandoning all concern over the ship's welfare. Unfortunately, some ropes were too thick or frozen, and pirates dropped everything to frantically tug at the ropes in a vain attempt to loosen its tightening death grip.

Rigging crashing about that didn't capture or ensnare limbs could still cause a great deal of damage, easily hit an inattentive pirate, bruising flesh or shattering bone. Those with more brains than others stopped trying to duck and dodge the flailing lines, and began attempting to gather as much loose cables, rigging and ropes as they could hold and secure them to masts, or tie them down to anything handy. Will noticed during a break of the rain's slather that Alex was still on deck, trying to catch and tie down anything loose – unaided – when even the most brawniest of pirates were hollering for any able-bodied men to take some slack for them. Pure madness. Will stumbled over to her and helped her heave. As he struggled to help her tie down the cables, he looked over her in wonder at her audacity and exasperation at her recklessness. He was amazed that she had managed to hold down the wayward rigging at all, but he was annoyed she'd attempted to do so without aid. He understood she felt she had to prove herself to the rest of the crew. He could only imagine what being the only woman on the ship would feel like; feeling like you were always being judged and having to prove yourself constantly to critics that believed you were always one rung below them, but what she was doing was bordering on pig-headedness and suicide. She was holding down the cables with nothing more than sheer stubbornness and determination to prove herself, Will decided. She was lacking everything she needed to perform this task; weight, experience and muscle, yet here she was, soaked to the bone, muscles straining and hair plastered in her eyes, just like everyone else. In his eyes, and many of the crew's, Alex had earned her place on the Black Pearl.

Meanwhile, removed from the happenings on the main deck, but still very-much concerned with their struggle, was Jack. He had given up trying to preserve his ship, and was instead concentrating on preserving the lives of his men. He realised the best way he could do this was to take the wheel, as the Black Pearl would respond to no other commands except his touch, but stubbornly, Jack tried to maintain the original course. He wanted to see this Drifting Maiden for himself, after hearing so many tales of it in the many bars he frequented. He had known of the legend ever since he was but a little boy (NB – Can you imagine Jack as a child? I'll bet he was a charmer, right from day one!) and the myth had continued right up to the last bar he had visited in London. In every port, in every country he had travelled to, in every corner of the world, he had heard of the Drifting Maiden, in some form or the other, and now he was so close to discovering firsthand exactly what the story was behind the vessel and its damned crew.

Will suddenly leapt to the bow of the ship, and after regarding the ship's course for several moments, struggled back to Jack at the helm.

"Jack!" He bellowed, right next the captain's ear. Jack merely rolled his eyes in response.

"We're not heading towards Tortuga!" Will yelled hoarsely.

"Really?" Jack replied sarcastically.

"Why?" Jack made no other reply than to grimly grip the wheel more tightly. "You fool!" Will shouted. "You're steering the ship with the storm, not out of it."

"What remarkable insight you have there, young William." Jack snapped, all trace of composure vanishing. "Care to take the wheel?" He offered the spokes to Will, surrendering his grip on the wheel, which immediately began to spin and whir counter-clockwise at high-speed.

"I will, if that's what it takes to saves the lives of all these men." Will grabbed the polished wheel, but no sooner had his hands touched the spokes then the storm went eerily silent. Looming up on their port side was a ghostly apparition.

Gee, I wonder what this ship could be…

DCoD – I could never kill Will! Or Jack! It would be absolute blasphemy to even consider attempting it – completely against my morals and scruples and everything holy. (That being said, there's some really good FF's out there about that sort of thing. One FF I've read is about Jack haunting Commodore Norrington to get him to avenge his death – it's pretty short, but very sweet, called "Until the Horizon" by Snickerer. Just thought I'd mention it; I thought it was very well done.)

Wolf at Heart – Yes, I know I'm cruel, giving you all these cliff-hangers - this chapter's not much better, really. I'm going on holidays soon, back out West where I live, which means three weeks without internet connection, so you'd better hope I don't leave it at a cliff-hanger before I go… Though if I don't put in a cliff-hanger, I'm worried everyone will forget about my story, and that makes me sad :( - so I need something to keep you all interested! Treat 'em mean and keep 'em keen :)

Willowred – Yay! Another new reviewer!

Shadowicewolf – Yay! One of my very first reviewers returns!

Lonaargh – Fear not; your William is safe! Injured, tired and freezing cold, but he is, at least, alive!