Chapter Five:

Jack looked down at her, on the lower deck. Even from the helm he could tell she was crying. He felt guilt climb up his throat. No telling what sort of pain those wounds were causing her. But no matter how much it was, he knew she was to prideful to let anyone see her hurt. He vowed to himself that first thing he saw Tia Dalma again, he'd get the voodoo woman to do whatever it took to heal Lizzie. Well, first thing after he had all this business with the Brethren ordered out. And then, that bit with Jones. Oh, and he had to make his peace with Turners Sr. and Jr. And make sure he had something to fall back on once all this blew over.

Once he was sure the ship was pointed well enough towards the proper headings, he had the first mate take the helm. Elizabeth was now staring out over the aft, watching the sunset behind them.

"Don't stare too long at it, Lizzie. I always used to do that, but then you've got the glaring morning son to head into all the next day. Besides, we've the fastest ship in the Spanish Maine. If someone's following us, we've no worries."

"I suppose that's what did it to you, then? Sun-sickness. That's what William suspected."

Jack smiled good-naturedly. People often assumed his often eccentric mannerism was due to some mental illness. But finding her in good humor, he decided to play to it. Assuming a mocking-hurt look,

"You don't really think I'm mad, do you Lizzie?"

She laughed, lightly. But her eyes softened, and Jack knew he'd accomplished what he'd aimed to.

"Only as mad as you feel, my nurse used to say"

"You had a nurse, eh? Suppose your mother was a fine woman than, not wantin' a baby girl hanging onto her apron strings"

"I never knew my mother"

"Oh, I'm…sorry Elizabeth."

Flustered, Jack tried to think of something to change the subject.

"How are those wounds, from that glass? Not hurtin, I hope. If they are, I've drink that'll cure any pain"

He winked at her. But her look made him feel contemptible. He thought to himself,

Great job, Jackie, now the girl thinks you just want to get her drunk. Wait-that is what I want, isn't it? Maybe that's what I might have wanted before, but not now. Not many men get a second chance at life-well, perhaps the existence of the Brethren made the statement less weighty, but that was beside the point.

"No, Jack. You need not fret over me. The wounds cause me no pain, only a slight tingling. Like fingers just touching the flesh. A sensation I prefer over the warm confusion of rum."

She turned to him and gave an open look of evaluation. She was perfectly aware of the suggestiveness of what she'd just said. She was curious to see just how fool proof the 'new' Jack was. He might try to hide it, but he was a changed man. Besides, what he said about Will was probably true, and she'd decided she no longer held any feelings for him any way. She stepped up close to him, right up to his face.

Jack swallowed nervously, and backed up.

"Well, that's good. I was afraid that you were experiencing something un-pleasure…um, er, un-pleasant."

Satisfied that he was indeed changed, she leaned back on to her heels. Elizabeth found herself caught up in a flurry of emotions, too confusing to pursue her present course of action safely.

"But I thank you for your concern, Jack. And everything else. Good-night."

She walked off, down the stairs, by the last fading light of the day.

He sighed, kissed the empty air where she'd stood moments before, and said

"Good-night, Elizabeth."

The Interceptor II, without identification, continued East from Port Royale for half a fortnight, than veered sharply South-East. Tracking her, and using the same headwinds, was The Flying Dutchmen with crew and the Kraken in tow. Closely tailing Jones, a small merchant galley. Coming from all compass points, a fleet of unearthly vessels pursued the same point on the map. The very center of the Bermuda Triangle-the Point of Summoning.

The End….stay tuned for sequel!