I'm not dead. Will's here. I can hardly contain myself. Now all I want is to get as far away from that cave as possible.
"Will, how did you get here?" I ask, cradling my bleeding hand.
"Commandeered a ship," Will says behind me.
"Will," I say disbelievingly, just as a great naval ship comes into view. The Interceptor, the ship commanded by Commodore Norrington himself, is floating in the middle of the ocean.
"Will, how could you? You're just a—"
"Blacksmith, I know," Will retorts. "I had some help. Elizabeth—"
I turn to look at him. He said my name. He called me Elizabeth, not Miss Swann.
"Why did they take you?" He asks quietly.
"Because I invoked the right of parley against them. It seemed the only way to negotiate with them and save Port Royal. I traded a pirate medallion for the safety of Port Royal," I say quickly. "Apparently that's what they had come for."
"A pirate medallion?" Will asks suddenly, pausing in his rowing.
"Yes," I say quietly, looking down at my injured hand. Should I tell him? Tell him he might be a pirate? . . . No. It would ruin him.
"Then they asked my name," I move on quickly. " I thought it would only put me in more danger to say who I really was, so I said my name was Elizabeth Turner. Then Barbossa refused to release me once the parley was complete. He took me hostage."
"Why?" Will asks. I look back at him briefly, unsure if he'll believe me.
"Barbossa said he and his crew took 882 pieces of gold from the Island of the Dead—"
"Isla de Muerta," Will interrupts. I look at him in surprise.
"Yes."
"I . . I've heard of it," he admits.
"Well, Barbossa said all those who take from that stone chest are instantly cursed. I didn't believe him at first . . ." I trail off and look at Will. He looks at me and I lean towards him.
"Will. I saw them. It's true. They are cursed. They turn into skeletons when they're in the moonlight. It was . . ." I pause. ". . . terrifying. This morning they brought me to Isla de Muerta. They slit open my hand to use my blood as a sacrifice to lift the curse."
"So that was why they took you?" Will assumes. I nod.
"I thought for sure they were going to slit my throat but they didn't. I can't tell you how afraid I was that they were going to kill me." I look down and wipe my eyes.
If only I could tell you that out of the two days I was held captive, I mostly only thought of you.
Suddenly we reach the side of the ship. I climb up and jump down onto the deck. I look up, seeing not the red suits of the navy officers as I was expecting, but a band of wild men I do not know. One has a blue and yellow parrot on his shoulder.
"Not more pirates," I say.
"Welcome aboard, Miss Elizabeth," one of the men steps forward. His beard is gray and white, and he has a balding head and small eyes. A memory flashes before my eyes. A sailor who accompanied my Father and I on our crossing from England . . .
"Mr. Gibbs?" I say, just as Will climbs aboard beside me. Gibbs turns to Will, his smile disappearing.
"Hey, Boy, where be Jack?"
I look at Will.
"Jack? Jack Sparrow?"
"He fell behind," Will replies with a meaningful glance at Gibbs. Gibbs looks down. I look back at Will, but he gives me no explanation. He grabs hold of my hand and leads me below deck.
"So, in order to rescue me you enlisted the help of a pirate?" I accuse, as Will takes two blankets from a nearby hammock and wraps one around me and then around himself.
"I did what I had to," he replies.
"But Jack Sparrow? Why? What about Commodore?" Will shoots me a look. Resentment is in his eyes.
"The commodore had plenty on his plate. He didn't have time to worry about rescuing you."
I know Will meant for me to feel a sting by his words, but I don't.
"So, seeing as Jack was once captain of the Black Pearl, I figured his motivation to find the Pearl would be greater than that of Commodore's."
My jaw drops.
"Sparrow? Captain of the Black Pearl?" I say. Will nods. Then my eyes narrow.
"Jack didn't really fall behind, did he?" I guess. Will doesn't look away from my eyes and says nothing, but he confirms my assumption all the same. I look away from him and down at the cut on my hand. Will notices it.
"Here." He rips a piece of cloth from his blanket and hands it to me to use as a bandage. I sit down at a table beside us, illuminated by candles. Will sits down opposite of me. I wrap the piece of cloth around my hand, momentarily stemming the blood flow.
"I had to rescue you and I knew unless I left something behind, Barbossa and his crew would follow and soon overtake us. I had to leave something behind to give us time."
"So you left Jack," I say. I feel no allegiance to Jack, but I can't believe that Will conceived this idea. He's a blacksmith from Port Royal, and yet now he has stolen a naval ship, enlisted the help of a pirate, and then left the pirate to die. What happened to the Will I once knew?
"What sort of man trades a man's life for a ship?" I say, trying for the third time to properly wrap the bandage around my hand.
"Pirate," Will says without hesitation. He takes my hands and I stop immediately.
"Here. Let me," he says softly.
"Thank you," I say. His hands are rough and calloused, the hands of a blacksmith. However, he binds up my hand very well.
"You said you gave Barbossa my name as yours," he looks up at me. "Why?"
"I don't know," I lie. Suddenly the bandage tightens and I pull my hand back and gasp.
"I'm sorry," Will says. "Blacksmith's hands—I know they're rough."
"No," I say. "I-I-I mean yes, they are, but . . ."
Will ties the knot ever so softly.
"But don't stop," I say, looking up at him. His eyes meet mine, slowly taking in the meaning of my words. I lean forward and he puts a hand to my cheek. His hands feels so good . . .
I have to tell him. He has to know whose blood they need.
Stop it Elizabeth. Not now.
He has to know!
"Elizabeth," Will whispers, our faces inches from each other. Suddenly I pull back quickly. I still hold his wrist however, stroking it with my fingers. I guide his hand down towards my chest where I let go and hold up the medallion. Will's fingers linger for a moment before taking the necklace.
"It's yours," I say, ripping it lightly from my neck. His eyes widen with realization.
"I thought I'd lost it the day they rescued me," he says in wonder. "It was a gift from my father. He sent it to me."
I look down. Will knew.
"Why did you take it?" Will demands. My breath chokes in my throat.
"Because I was afraid that you were a pirate," I say. "That would have been awful."
Will looks down at the medallion, understanding coming to his eyes.
"It wasn't your blood they needed."
What have I done?
"It was my father's blood."
Elizabeth, how could you?
"My blood." Will curls his fist around the medallion.
He'll never forgive you.
"The blood of a pirate."
"Will, I'm so sorry, please forgive me," I plead, but he hits the table with his fist in anger.
He will never forgive me, I think again. I stand up to leave. Will looks up at me in surprise but I refuse to stay a moment longer. I can't believe what I've done to him.
I leave him sitting at the table, staring down at the foreboding skeleton's smile engraved upon the medallion.
Suddenly the ship starts to rock seemingly out of control. I slid against a wall and try and regain my balance. What was happening?
I make my way to the stairs and climb up. I open the deck door to the sea air. My hair spins around my face in messy swirls.
"Hands aloft to loose t'gallants!" Gibbs is shouting. "With this wind, she'll carry every sail we've got!"
The crew of men and boys climb like mad over the ropes to set the sails. Wind blows violently on my face as I climb out from below deck, shutting the door behind me.
"What's happening?" I call to Gibbs over the roar of the wind and the shouting of the crew.
"The Black Pearl," answers a woman's voice behind Gibbs. She stands at the wheel as first mate. The woman looks over her shoulder. "She's gaining on us."
I run to the side of the ship and climb onto the ropes, looking at the back of the ship.
Through the mist comes the black form and ragged sails of the Pearl.
No. For a moment I can't feel, I can't think. And then one thought clears my head.
We can't let them catch us.
I approach Gibbs.
"This is the fastest ship in the Caribbean," I say.
"You can tell them that after they've caught us," the woman at the wheel snaps. I look behind me for some sort of escape route. Then my eye catches a glimpse of white sands close by. Areas of shallow water: shoals. A plan begins to formulate in my mind. If we can get close enough to those shoals that might scare the pirates off. They might be too hesitant to follow. The Interceptor's draft—the depth of water necessary for a ship to float—must be shallower than the Pearl. It's worth a try.
"We're shallower on the draft, right?" I ask the woman.
"Aye," she says, sounding confused.
"Well, then can't we lose them amongst those shoals?" I prompt, looking back at Gibbs. He follows my gaze and looks back at the woman.
"We don't have to outrun them long, just long enough," Gibbs agrees.
"Lighten the ship, stem to stern!" The first mate shouts to her crew.
"Anything we can afford to lose, see that it's lost," yells Gibbs. The crew jumps down from their posts and runs below deck. They come up holding barrels and crates. Some carry rope and others hand each other cannonballs, throwing them over the side. Everything heavy must be lost.
We approach the shoals at a satisfactory speed. I look to my right at the shoals and back at the Pearl. My breathing quickens. We might not make it.
"It was a good plan," says the woman at the wheel. "Up till now."
"Gibbs!" A voice says behind me. I spin around.
"We have to make a stand," Will says. "We must fight! Load the guns!"
"With what?" The first mate says.
"Anything. Everything! Anything we have left."
He's right. I should never have assumed the Pearl could be scared away. The devil himself leads that ship.
"Load the guns!" Gibbs yells, jumping down to help the crew. "Case shot and langrage! Nails and crushed glass!"
Will looks back at me but says nothing. A moment ago we were both angry that I had stolen his medallion. How minor a problem that seems now. We're going to die.
Will turns and I run after him to prepare to fight. I'm not sure that I can do much, but (heaven help me) I will do what I can.
Will hands up rifles to me from below and I hand them off to the sailors, who are now loading cannons with glass bottles, utensils, and anything else that's sharp. I look back at the Pearl, which is so close I can see a figure standing beside the wheel. Barbossa.
"The Pearl's gonna luff up on our port quarter!" Gibbs comes running up behind me. "She'll rake us without ever presenting a target."
Unless we stop.
"Lower the anchor on the right side," I say as Will comes up behind me. The woman, Gibbs, and Will all look at me and say nothing.
"On the starboard side!" I say, looking at Will.
"It certainly has the element of surprise," he agrees, turning to Gibbs.
"You're daft, lady! You both are!" The woman accuses.
"Daft like Jack!" Gibbs says with a smile, turning to the crew and giving the order. The crew scrambles to lower the anchor. They turn the wheel and the chain is released. The moment the anchor hits the bottom of the ocean the entire ship rocks. Planks rip from the bottom of the ship. Something is holding the ship back . . . we're going to flip!
I look back at the first mate the helm. Her knuckles are white from holding the wheel.
"Let go!" I shout to her. She releases the wheel and it spins, righting the ship back on balance. It turns around in the water just as the Pearl comes up beside us. The crew prepares for battle. I kneel beside Will, who readies his rifle. The pirates of the Pearl leer at us, drawing their swords. Captain Barbossa himself draws his sword, his horrible monkey perched atop his shoulder. The Interceptor's crew cock their rifles and brandish their blades.
"Now!" Yells Will.
"Fire!" Barbossa shouts.