By the time Ana Maria and Marti actually got back to the ship, it was dark. They had found an inn on the way back and got distracted for quite some time. When they got back, Ana Maria was ever so slightly tipsy, but Marti had not drunk enough. For such a small person, she could certainly handle her drink.
Will was with Elizabeth, deep in conversation. She nodded toward Marti when she saw her, and Will looked straight at her. His expression was unreadable, and suddenly, all traces of alcoholic influence seemed to evaporate from her. And her mouth went dry as he approached her.
"Martina," He said, "Could I have a word?" Marti swallowed,
"O…Kay…" She said slowly. She saw a familiar look in his eye. She had seen it before, but not in his eyes. She followed him to the other side of the ship where he sat on an empty keg.
"I'd like to apologise for… blaming you for all of this. I know you were only following orders." Marti narrowed her eyes. This was not what she was expecting. Yelling, arguing, bit of painful memory recovery maybe, but an apology? She shook herself mentally. She needed to stop seeing Bill and start seeing William Turner junior.
"It's… it's alright," She said, uncomfortably. She was not used to people apologising, unless it was in the 'I'll buy you a drink' sort of way that she generally didn't need to say anything back except 'make it a big one.' She had no idea what to do in this situation, because she had never been in it before. So instead, she changed the subject. "You really do look like your dad you know."
Will smiled, "You must be at least the tenth person to tell me that."
"Sorry," She said, "But it's true. Lots younger of course, and your hairs a little different. Bill's is a lot more wavy. You know, it's like, ringletted at the ends. It'd be kind of girly if he wasn't so… you know, ungirly looking." She paused, "I'm not doing to well am I?"
"Not really," Will said, laughing.
"What?" She asked, indignantly, "I be trying here!"
"I know," Will said, "You don't appear to be doing very well." Marti sighed,
"Okay then, maybe I should just accept the apology, and go get drunk."
"And you learned everything you know from my father?" Will asked,
"Aye."
"So why are we trying to find him again?"
Jack half sat, half leant against a rail the opposite side of the Gully to the rest of his crew. He was half in the shadow and was watching them, regarding them interacting with each other.
Ana Maria was with them, laughing with them, drinking with them, and eating with them. She was behaving the exact way a pirate should, even though she was the only woman in the room. Barring Elizabeth, who was laughing politely when it was expected, and drinking a glass of water. She always kept an eye on the door waiting for Will until he came in, followed by Marti. Marti shoved her way between Ana Maria and Mort, whispering something in her friends ear and laughing loudly. She pulled Mort's drink away from him when he wasn't looking, and replaced it with her empty one, eyeing him until he realised and took it back roughly. Mr Gibbs, the oldest member of the crew downed drink after drink, and was currently speaking to Elizabeth, telling her one of his many tales of the sea.
The other crew members, Cotton and Clay, sat silently. Cotton because he had no choice, and Clay because he was staring back at Jack. The captain snapped out of his trance like state and looked back at Clay questioningly. The other man discreetly flicked a finger towards the window where the nights stars were glittering. A silhouette floated past and disappeared. It caught Jack's eye and appeared again. Then it stopped in the window and he recognised it as being an owl, a dark brown owl, with wings almost as the sky behind it. The others had noticed it too, but before they could do anything, Jack had stood up and reached the window, and was taking a note from the birds leg. As soon as he had detached it the bird flew off.
"How strange," Elizabeth said, "What…" Jack had opened the note and was reading it quickly. It was quite short.
My friend, it read,
I have some news for you. I know you are currently in Tortuga and I hope this note reaches you before you leave. You must not sail for Aztec cove, you must set course for Isla de Muerta at once. I shall meet you there.
Make haste my friend, for we do not have much time.
Lady Amelia Hurst.
"Gibbs, the sails," Jack said, "Set a course, we're leaving now." Gibbs stood up, wobbling,
"A course to where Cap'n?" He asked. The crew were sobering up. They knew the look on Jack's face. It meant that if they did not do exactly as he ordered, there would be hell to pay, and he wouldn't be the one causing it.
"Isla de Muerta," Jack said. Will, who did not know the expression on his friends face, but he knew he did not like it.
"Jack we must sail for Aztec cove, my father…"
"Is not anywhere near Aztec cove," Jack said, turning to the crew. "On deck!" He yelled, "Set the sails! Move your feet you scallywags! Move!" Jack started to follow them out when Marti stopped him,
"What was in that note?" Jack thrust it in her hands, she read quickly,
"Who's… Savannah?"
"Exactly."
"Is Bill at Isla de Muerta?"
"If he was, do you think Savannah would be doin' tellin' us to meet her there." Marti agreed.
"So what do we do?" Jack folded the letter and slipped it inside his coat.
"We meet her." He said, "And then we find Turner."
Savannah was again sat on a beach. The beach was attached to an island. One that went by the name of Isla de Muerta. Oh yes, she had visited the cavern, she had opened the chest, and seen the gold. Was she tempted? Did she look away in disgust? No. What she did, was smile. She smiled because when she laid eyes on Barbosa she knew that he would not die a particularly noble death. Treasure, obsessed with treasure, the old crew of the Pearl was. What would the new one be like? Seeing the size of the cavern, she knew that there must have been a great deal more gold there than just what was in that singular chest. Jack Sparrow had never been that greedy. Knowing there was a curse on a hoard, he would not take it. Pirates are superstitious men by nature, but she was the contradiction. She was a woman, and she was a pirate. It was bad luck for her to set foot on a ship, but she did not believe that. She believed very strongly that it was bad luck for her to set foot on any enemies ship, but her own… it was not very plausible.
The stolen box was on the sand in front of her folded legs. She had been taking the time to study it.
It wasn't that big, for what it was. It was oak. It had gold locks and clasps, and very intricately designed patterns etched on the surface. She could open it. She knew she could, but she hadn't done. She did not fear what was inside, but she knew that now was not the time to open it. Instead she picked up a feather, a black owl feather, and dropped it just above the centre of the box. It floated down at first, and then stopped. It started spinning slowly, and then rose above the box, and back down again. When she picked it up, it was just a normal feather again, which floated down to the ground when she dropped it. She lifted the box and shook it. Not something you would expect to happen, but she did it anyway. There was no sound, but when she put it back down she heard a distinct rattle.
"Ha," She smiled, "I like this box."