DISCLAIMER: PotC is not mine and never will be.

AURUM

. a curse reborn .

- chapter 9 -

"So... Let me just get this straight." Jack was trying to be patient, but he was slowly losing his temper, and it showed. His face had a pinched sort of look, with his eyes narrowed ever so slightly and his lips pursed together in a thin line. He stood staring at Myra, practically in disbelief. "You fed me rum till I was drunk -"

"No," Myra interrupted, shaking her head, "not drunk -- Wasted. Gone. Completely plastered."

"Right." Jack gave an aggravated sigh. Clearly he was putting all his energy into restraining himself. "Then you convinced me to help you and take you to see Tia Dalma?"

"Wrong. Visiting Tia Dalma was your own idea, Captain." This answer provoked another sigh from Jack, who pressed a hand to his forehead in exasperation.

"You do know I could just dump you overboard and solve all my problems?"

Myra shook her head. "Wrong again, Captain Sparrow." From around her neck, Myra pulled the cursed medallion and dangled it tauntingly in the captain's face. "Remember this?"

In that instant, something in the back of Jack's mind clicked into place and all these little pieces of what happened the night before came together. At last, he remembered. Somehow, this young woman had obtained a single coin from the elusive treasure of Cortes, and with it she received its curse. He stared at the golden coin as it swayed gently back and forth. The skull smiled at him with an eerie, mocking grin, its two hollow eyes boring deep into his. Myra wore a similar smirk of satisfaction, as if she and this Aztec skeleton had been in cahoots all along, determined to make Jack Sparrow completely and utterly miserable. The captain gave a sigh of defeat. He squinted his eyes shut and he kneaded his forehead with his fingertips, his head now throbbing painfully from all that had happened, not to mention the effects of all the rum he'd had the night before.

"I think... I think now would be a good time," Jack said quietly, "to tell me just how you came upon that necklace."

A look of surprise cleared the smirk from Myra's face, and her expression quickly became solemn and serious. She looked away from Jack, turning her gaze instead towards the ocean. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

By no means was Jack going to back down that easily. He wanted to know why she had the necklace, how she could have possibly found it when it should have been lying deep beneath the ocean. But his questions were cut short by a call from the crow's nest.

"Land ho!" came the cry, and all eyes turned past the bow of the ship. Ahead of them was an island, an island that seemed to draw closer with each second.

"Captain!" It was Mr. Gibbs, though he didn't seem entirely overjoyed about the situation. "Should we prepare the longboats?"

Jack glanced momentarily towards Myra, who was looking expectantly up at him. However grudgingly, he heaved another sigh and answered, "Just one. This young lady and I will be going ashore alone."

- x - x - x -

The journey up the river was long, tedious, and painfully awkward. No words passed between Myra and the captain; the agonizing silence between them was broken only by the rushing sound of the oars through the salty river water and the steady hum of untainted nature in the forest around them. Myra hoped desperately that this little trip wouldn't take very long. Despite the fact that he was helping her, she didn't trust Jack Sparrow. He was a pirate, after all, and though she had little experience with pirates (for obvious reasons) she was smart enough to know that they weren't men to put your faith in. And Myra had the added risk of being a woman along with a strange man. Needless to say, she felt rather uncomfortable.

The river grew narrower as they continued on. The tall tropical trees had weaved their branches together to form a thick, inpentetrable canopy of leaves. Some light did trickle through, but the forest became darker and darker as they went deeper inside it. Animals screeched in the trees above; large birds flapped their wings noisily and swooped down over their heads. Myra jumped at nearly every little sound, for in the depths of the rainforest it seemed that even a whisper of movement was magnified into a threatening roar. Her eyes darted around nervously, but in the darkness she could see very little. Jack remained calm, his face expressionless as he rowed through the swampy waters. And still not a single word was spoken.

The boat turned around a bend in the river, and their destination drew into view. There were several run-down, ramshackle houses along the water's edge, but it was clear which one they were headed to. Myra couldn't quite tell what it was, but something in the way its lanterns flickered so invitingly, in how its door seemed to beckon to them told Myra that this particular shack was where they were headed.

Jack brought the boat up alongside a small makeshift dock, nothing more than a few boards roped together and secured by several poles secured in the riverbed. He tied the boat off and stepped out, not waiting for Myra to follow. A bit unsteadily, Myra hopped out of the rowboat and hurried after Jack who had already climbed up the worn wooden ladder up to the decrepit-looking porch. Once Myra stepped onto the porch after him, Jack whirled around and gave her a fierce, threatening stare.

"When we go inside, you're to let me do all the talking. Understood?"

Myra gave him an odd look. She wasn't sure he trusted him with that responsibility. "Why?"

Jack grinned to himself with the satisfaction of having the upper hand in this after all. "Because I'm the one who has the ship. I could easily leave you stranded here, now, couldn't I?"

However much she hated it, she had to admit defeat this one time. Myra sighed as she rolled her eyes. "Fine."

"Good." Jack pushed open the door and a soft, golden light spilled out onto them. Inside, lanterns and candles lined the walls, and some lay in odd places on tables and windowsills. All of them were lit, and their flames flickered gently, warding off the encroaching darkness. From the celing hung bottles of various shapes and sizes, but what they contained Myra couldn't quite tell. At first, it seemed no one was there. The house was silent, and Myra half expected Jack to turn and say 'Well, looks like she's not in. Let's go.' But just then, perhaps only moments before Jack would decide it was time they should leave, a woman appeared from another room. Her dirtied hand pulled back a thin, translucent curtain and she stepped out into the flickering candlelight. A smile slowly spread across her grime-streaked face, revealing a set of stained and blackened teeth. Her hair was a tangled mess of twisted dreadlocks, and it fell far past her shoulders and down her back. Her dress was tattered along its edges, spattered with dirt and mud. But despite her disheveled look, her countenance was bright, her expression friendly.

"Captain Jack Sparrow," she cooed in a thick, foreign accent. She strode accross the room in long, confident steps, grinning up at the captain with gleaming eyes. "I always knew you'd be coming back." She sidled up against him with a seductive movement of her hips, and she placed a hand delicately against his chest.

Jack, though not seeming to mind the attention, seemed slightly uncomfortable. Something in the way he smiled back at the woman said to Myra that he wasn't exactly ecstatic to be seeing her again. "You look lovely, Tia Dalma."

But her attentions had quickly moved on. With a troubled expression, she turned towards Myra, who still stood close by the door, motionless. "What are you doing here?" Though the question could have been threatening, a warning to leave, it was not said in such a way. Tia Dalma's done was worried, concerned, and spoke to Myra much the way one might whisper to a lost kitten. "You do not belong here."

Jack snorted under his breath. "I'll say..." he snickered, but Tia Dalma lifted a hand to silence him. She stepped closer to Myra, taking both of her hands in her own.

"What are you doing so far from home, child?"

Myra didn't know what to do. She'd promised Jack she would say anything, since he was her only way of getting anywhere. She looked towards him expectantly, but Tia Dalma put a hand soothingly against Myra's cheek, turning her head ever so slightly.

"How did you get here, Myra?"

A/N: Chapter 9 Complete! Reviewers will be loved and shall recieve waffles.