Over the next few months, Cary and I spoke very little. It didn't bother me as much as it should have, as I spent much of my time with the Captain. Kensington taught me very valuable lessons about romance and life via his lesson's on sailing ("Any ship will respond to you as a lover would if you play on her weaknesses and strengths"), navigation ("A compass is a fool's tool. The only true compass is your heart") and pirating ("It's easier if one has had some rum").

During the day, the Captain worked, sang, drank, and ate alongside us merrily. The only time I didn't see him was when he went to his cabin to sleep at night. He was strict about my never accompanying him beyond his door after the sun had set. Indeed, no one, save Bailley, was permitted to breech that barrier until sun up. And, as Bailley put it, it was only in dire circumstances that that was done.

My nights were filled with rousing dances and songs and plenty of the local rum. When we were at port, plenty of whores made their presence known to me, but I never quite had the guts to take one to bed. Of course, the crew made plenty of jokes at my expense. I learned to take their ribbing as a sign of kinship, and also learned to give as good as I got.

Along with the evening's drinking, there usually came a few good pirate stories. Most of them came from Cotton. I'd never heard him speak on board the Belle, but the Atropos certainly changed that. Once one started talking to the man, it took a good deal of rum to shut him up.

My favorite story was that of a ship called the Black Pearl. Cotton told me that a legendary pirate with no name had sailed her and she was the most fearsome ship in the Caribbean. She was sleek, fast, and ran black sails beneath the Roger. No one could keep up with her, nor could they beat her once her guns were loaded. Cotton also told me that the captain of the Black Pearl had lost his mind, and drunk on the power of nearly owning the Caribbean waters, he sank her and sold his soul to the very devil to keep her on the bottom of the sea. But, Cotton assured me, the Pearl was waiting for a captain and would one day rise again as a phoenix and take over the sea again.

Bailley had laughed at the story, "Come on, Cotton, don't fill the lad's head with that rubbish! Someone had ought to cut out your tongue for all the wrong wagging it does!" The crew had laughed, but I was taken in by the tale of the Black Pearl.

Cary, of course, would have nothing to do with the lot of us. He worked alongside us, just as hard if not harder than most of the crew. He showed Bailley respect (I expect because of his vicious-looking scar), but saved none for the rest of the crew. Everyone mostly ignored him and let him fade into the background, and soon, I did the same.

Many months passed without one word going between us. Finally, on one scorching hot day in the Caribbean, he spoke to me. "Happy Birthday, Jack," came a croak. I looked around and finally saw him standing near the bulwark on the port side. I gasped.

Cary had all but faded away. He was grey and lifeless looking, a shadow the handsome charm he'd formally exuded. I could practically see straight through him. I told him as much, wincing only slightly at my haughty tone of voice.

"You should take a look in the mirror, yourself, Jack" Cary croaked. "You are becoming more like the Captain with each passing day."

I looked down at myself. I knew he was right, but I never fully realized it. I was wearing a black coat over a grey waistcoat, black breeches, and black boots. My black hair had grown so long, it flowed to the middle of my back. It did not curl, naturally, so I had taken to twisting it into locks. I had also grown fond of Kohl and often lined my eyes with the black pencil to make myself look more fearsome. I wore a tri-corn as well, and a cutlass at my side. Still, it was not remarkable dress for a pirate. "Cary, jealousy does not become you."

His laugh came a wheeze. I curled my lip in distaste and walked away from him. I was shaken by his remark though. It had been two years since I'd left England. My birthday. I was seventeen. Another crewman, Pell, happened had overheard me. "Who are you talking to, Sperrit?" he looked around and spied Cary, "Oh, that. Well, never mind. Look, some of the crew are going rowing into port this afternoon ahead of the ship with the captain's leave. He suggested we invite you. How about it?"

I nodded in agreement. I was still struck by Cary's words. I had all but forgotten him. I felt a slight hint of shame. But it was gone as soon as Pell informed me that Kensington wanted to see me before we left. I grinned and strode to his cabin.

I was overwhelmed by what I found there. A great feast had been laid out on a long dining table. Benches lined each side and twenty plates gleamed at each place. I had never seen anything so luxurious, aside from sets at the Opera. Of course, I had learned to expect the unexpected aboard this ship. Though, it never ceased to amaze me when I might find next.

"Jaques, my boy! Welcome! Why is that I had to find out about your birthday secondhand, eh?" Kensington said, making a grand gesture with his arms to encompass the room.

I was stunned. But, then, I should know that the Captain hears everything that goes on on the Atropos. "Come along, then my boy," he said merrily leading me toward the banquet. He seated me and called for the crew to join us. Soon, he was toasting me, "To seventeen, Jaques, and to the horizons ahead of you!"

"Aye! To Jaques!" came the crew's reply. And then there was general pandemonium and we dug into the food before us.

Once we had dined, the crew left us and went back on deck. I could see through the huge windows in the stern that the sun was sinking into the ocean. "Thank you, Captain Kensington," I said, rising to head toward the door.

"Wait, Jaques," he stooped me, rising from his place. I'd never been in his presence this late in the day. He was beginning to look very weary. He reached into his coat and withdrew a coin. He flipped it to me and I caught it deftly in my right hand. In my palm laid an uneven circle of gold. It bore a cross on one side and pentacle on the other. I looked up at the Captain.

"May it bring you the luck it's always shown me, young Jaques, now go! Have a good time at port for me, okay!" I smiled and nodded and went out to obey the Captain's orders.

The next morning, Cotton shook me awake from my hammock on the gun deck. "Jaques! Get up!" I opened my eyes. My head still swam from the rum and antics of the night before. I held down an urge to vomit and looked at Cotton.

"What is it? It's not even my watch yet, ya dog!" I tried to roll over, but Cotton shook me again.

"It's yer mate, Jaques. He's gone overboard."

"Cary?" I sat up, wincing at the pain that flashed through my skull and blinking fiercely to clear my vision. "Why?"

"It be mermaids, lad," he answered

I laid back down, relieved. "Oh, okay, Cotton. Sure. Mermaids. That's nice. Wake me when it's time for the forenoon watch."

He pulled me back up by my lapels. "I'm not foolin' ya, Jaques. Come on."

I stood and followed him, resigned to let the crew have their little birthday joke so I could get some rest. Cotton led me above deck, and rather than the crew standing there, waiting to wiggle their willies at me or some such thing, I saw Bailley and Pell looking over the port side at the same spot I'd had my chat with Cary the day before.

I joined them and looked into the sea. And I gasped. There was Cary, restored to his former substantial appearance, floating just below the surface in a gold ball. His eyes were closed and his lips were blue. I was flooded with the memory of our friendship and I knew I had to get to him.

I pulled off my boots and thrust my jacket at Cotton. I climbed onto the bulwark and dove in, despite the crews pleas and advice to the contrary. I found Cary easily in the dark water, as he seemed to emit some sort of light from inside the orb. When I swam closer, I could see it was from the area of his heart that the light shone. I reached out to touch the orb and it was suddenly pulled from my grasp.

A horrible green thing with flame orange hair swam in front of me, blocking me from Cary. It had a woman's face and upper body, but a long silver fish tail. She spoke sharply to me and I had to cover my ears because the sound drilled straight through me. I moved to swim past her and saw that there were about seven of the things there and they were pulling Cary further down. The light was fading and I kicked hard to make for him. However, a strong scaly hand closed over my forearm and dragged me up to the surface.

My lungs labored to take in air and I saw that the hand belonged the horrid thing that had swum in front of me before. Except, above the water, her skin was fair and her hair was blonde. She spoke, and her voice was soothing, unlike it had been below the surface.

"I have given you one chance. Do not come after him again. You did not love him, Jaques Sperrit, he told me so himself. We shall save him from your cruel mastery," it said. I was transfixed by her beauty and the lyrical quality of her voice, but I felt the full force of her words. As she dipped below the surface, I took a breath and was about to follow her, when strong hands grasped my shoulders from above.

Bailley hauled me up and held me against my struggling. "Cotton, tell him," he commanded.

Cotton leveled a gaze at me and spoke with a gravity I'd never heard from him before, "Jaques, this is no big fish story, I can promise ya that. Yer mate is doomed to the mermaids. Once a man makes the journey to their lair in the deep, he never comes back."

I shrugged Bailley off and looked at Cotton, then at Bailley and Pell, "What is going on here? What is all this about lairs and doom? We need to go after Cary! He was," I stopped and took a deep breath, "is my best friend! And my only family."

Cotton shook his head, "I'm sorry, lad. He must have made a pact with a mermaid. They take unwitting men from ships to become their husbands. One man serves all of the mermaids in a lair."

I grinned then, "Well, that doesn't sound half bad, actually. Maybe I should make that trip and relieve Cary of his burden," I made for the starboard side, but the next words Cotton spoke stayed me.

"After they've done with him, they eat him."

I swallowed hard and sunk to my knees on the deck. It was not since finding my mother in our garret that I'd felt this helpless.

It was then that I head Kensington call for Bailley. The sun had yet to rise, so the crew on deck fell silent. This was almost unprecedented. Bailley looked at me, then made for the cabin door.

We all waited with baited breath. Finally, Bailley reemerged. He was fine, save for the pallor of his skin, which had paled considerably. He spoke after a long beat. "Cap'n wants us to make a heading for The River."

I began to protest, "But, Cary! He needs our help! I know we can help him!"

Bailley silenced me with a hard look. "Weigh anchor, Sperrit."

I jumped to the duty. I knew better than to ask twice.

It took us nigh into the afternoon to drop anchor off of small island to the south of where we'd last seen Cary. By my best guess, I'd say we were off the coast of Martinique, but I couldn't be certain. Kensington had not appeared on deck until almost ten o'clock. He said nothing to me, only stopping to pat my shoulder as he passed me.

After we'd made anchor, Pell, Bailley, Cotton, Kensington and I boarded the longboat and made for the shore. Once were closer, I could see that there was a narrow river that flowed into the sea. Pell and Cotton rowed us into us and upriver. Soon, we were so thick into the trees, it seemed almost nighttime. There was exotic flora and fauna all around, the likes of which I'd never seen on any island in the Caribbean before today. Every once in a while, we heard chants and cries in some foreign tongue coming from deeper in the jungle. The place made me shiver, though it was hot and humid.

Finally, Cotton and Pell stopped rowing and we drifted up to a short plank dock. I helped them tie off and we disembarked. Above me, I saw a hut. I jumped back, startled that I hadn't noticed it until just now, for it was rather a large structure, built right into a thick tree. Kensington laid his hand upon my arm and urged me ahead. For each step I took, the dock seemed to leap up to meet my feet out of the inky water. I blinked hard and shook my head, but like my vision inside the Captain's cabin, it didn't fade away. We made out way to a short rope ladder and Kensington stopped me when I laid my hand on the lowest rung I could reach.

"None of us can yet come with you. You must meet with Her alone first. She'll let us know when to come up," the Captain said, his tone somber. But, as always, he smiled at me, "Don't fear Her, Jaques."

I nodded and climbed the ladder. I'd never not trusted the Captain and didn't want to start right then. In several places, the rope ladder was worn and in need of mending and it others yet, it looked freshly repaired or new. Finally, I rapped my head against something hard. It was the floor of the hut. When I looked down, it seemed I'd only climbed about twenty feet. I felt like I'd climbed for hours.

I rapped hard on the wooden door above me and heard an ethereal female voice drift down to me, "Come in, Jack Sparrow."