I know it's been eons since the last chapter. I'm very sorry. What happened is I went to open the story one day and it told me that the file had become corrupted. I was so mad that I couldn't think about rewriting it for two weeks. As it is, I'm liking the rewrite more than what I had originally, so silver lining I guess.
Anyway, here's a ridiculously long chapter to make up for the wait (maybe). I couldn't find anywhere to cut it so I just didn't.
Chapter 7: Marrakesh
Marrakesh as the loudest, most vibrant city that Hermione had ever seen. As the Mazu's Glory descended and docked, Hermione leaned over the railing and absorbed the city. The air smelled like exotic spices, fish, and engine oil.
Once the ship was settled in its hammock, the crew bounded down onto the dock. Hermione, Harry, and Ron followed more slowly. By the time they caught up, Jack was already handing out coins.
"We'll be here at least two nights," she said. "Keep your radios on you at all times in case something comes up. And, don't have too much fun. Any bail money is coming out of your wages."
The crew laughed and dispersed.
"I wonder what sailors in this world do for fun?" Harry asked to no one in particular. "Are they like sailors on leave from our world?"
"Garcia and Jamie, maybe. But the others?" Hermione shook her head. "They're the wrong personality."
"I don't know," Ron said. "I could see Mandy getting a bit wild after a few drinks. He smiled at Mandy's retreating back, entirely missing Hermione's scowl.
Jack came over to them and handed them each a small bag of coins.
"These big gold ones are pesos," she said, holding up a coin about the size and weight of a galleon. "Everything else is a shilling." She showed them a handful of silver coins of various sizes. They were all smaller than the peso. "Fifty shillings to a peso. How many shillings each coin is worth is stamped onto the coin."
Hermione dumped her coins into her hand and counted them. She had fifteen pesos and twenty-seven shillings.
Jack continued. "Three pesos buys you a night in a hotel. A drink will cost you between six and eight shillings, and if anyone tries to charge you more, you tell 'em to go to hell."
Hermione nodded. It occurred to her that this was her first paycheque. She just hadn't expected it to be for piracy services rendered.
"Now off you go," Jack said.
"Where?" Harry asked.
Jack nodded to where her crew had disappeared. "Well, they're going to book rooms for the night. Unless you want to sleep on the ship again ‒"
"No," Ron said it so fast that Jack laughed.
"Come on," Jack led them off the dock. "I'll take you to our usual inn. We could all use a shower and a good meal."
The next forty-eight hours were a whirlwind. Anne gave her a tour of the town. Anne had lived in Marrakesh in her youth. Hermione stared in awe at the architecture of government buildings and old houses. She sampled octopus and pastries stuffed with goat-cheese and spices in the bazaar. That night, the whole crew ate at a little cafe. The food was delicious and spicy. Hermione's eyes watered as she went back for seconds and thirds. Men played bongo drums and strummed at instruments like mandolins. Hermione danced the night away, giddy on good food, drink, and joy. For the first time, she felt like this was an adventure.
Then she soaked for an hour in a bathtub and came out feeling like a lavender-scented raisin.
While in the bath, she started reading a book from Jack's library. It was a thick book about inter-world theory. She wanted to know how they'd got here. The research seemed contradictory, mostly because no one had any idea. Still, it was an interesting read and knowing more made Hermione feel better. She felt more in control of her crazy life.
On the third day, they had to leave. The crew went off in various directions to get ready to leave. Hermione figured they were spending the last of their money. She heard Bart and Jamie talking about one last trip to somewhere called "The Silk Slipper." Mandy and Garcia went off to buy parts and fuel for the engine. They would beat everyone to the ship since they had to tune up their "baby" before takeoff.
Jack took Hermione, Ron, and Harry to a bar.
"I have a friend here," she told them. "He has big ears if you know what I mean."
Hermione did. She had learned that information was worth more than the coins in her purse.
Jack took them to a bar that looked like it had seen better days. The front needed a scrub and a coat of paint. Hermione couldn't imagine anyone coming here to eat.
Just inside the doorway of the bar stood two very large, menacing-looking men. One sat behind a booth that looked like a coat check and the other guarded the door. Jack approached the booth. She took out her gun and knife and laid them in the bin that the man offered her. He handed her a scrap of paper with a number in exchange.
"A weapon check?" Ron asked.
"Yeah," answered Jack. "They had one too many bar fights that ended in the morgue, so they made a new rule." Hermione gulped. What sort of person was Jack taking them to meet who hung out in a place like this?
The man at the door gave each of them a cursory pat down. He didn't notice their wands, or maybe he didn't know what they were.
Once inside the bar, Jack led the way to a secluded corner table.
The waiter came over. "What can I get you?"
Jack answered without looking at the menu. "Delphi shooters, all around."
The waiter's face became suddenly serious. "Just a moment."
After he left, Harry leaned across the table. "What's a delphi shooter?"
"A code. Now, when the next person comes over, you let me do the talking, ok? You three sit tight until it's time."
As if on cue, a very round man emerged from the kitchen of the bar. He was balding and wore an apron covered in grease. He smelled like cooking oil.
"Jack!" he cried as he approached the table.
"Marco!" Jack rose from the table to embrace him. "Hey! A pint of Faithful and a gin and ginger over here!" She called to the bartender. Jack pulled back his chair for him and he lowered himself into it with a groan.
"Oh, Jack. You remember my order," he said warmly.
"Of course I remember. It hasn't been that long."
"Eighteen months," he scolded but his eyes laughed.
"I know, I'm sorry," Jack said. "I've been real busy. And it was too hot here for a while."
Marco nodded. "It was. Those were hard time for everyone."
Hermione got the impression that they weren't talking about the weather.
Their drinks arrived and Jack and Marco spent ten minutes tossing around names of people and places that meant nothing to Hermione. A lot of people seemed to have gone 'underground' or missing. A few were dead and Jack and Marco drank toasts to them.
The conversation lulled for a moment. Marco took a sip of his drink.
"So Jack," he said sitting forward and lowering his voice. "What can I do for you?"
"Who says there's anything?"
Marco grinned. "Come on, Jack. You didn't come all this way just to see an old man like me."
Jack sat back. "I'm wondering if you've heard anything about new tech."
"There's always new tech," Marco said. He looked at the students for the first time. Hermione felt him sizing her up. "What're you interested in?" he spoke to Jack but he looked at them.
"Inter-world travel."
A tense silence fell over the table.
"I never figured you for people smuggling, Jack." Marco said.
"I'm not. This is a transport job. Nothing more."
Marco studied the students for a moment longer. Hermione forced herself to meet his gaze. It felt important that she look him in the eye.
Marco turned back to Jack. "Word is that the Malian's are developing it and the Valencians are financing it. The money's in Valencia but the brains are in Mali, you know? Though it's all very hush-hush. Officially, it's just trade."
"So it's real?" Jack asked. "It's not just idle rumours."
"It's real all right, or it will be. Don't know how close they are to finishing it, or if they'll finish it. But yeah, it's real."
Jack looked at the students and smiled. "This is good news."
"So, what world are you from?" Marco asked them directly. Hermione wasn't sure whether they should answer but Jack nodded.
Harry spoke. "We think C or D."
"Long way from home then," Marco said. "Good luck to you."
Jack and Marco turned in unison as three men entered the bar. They'd had empty gun holsters hanging from their belts. They weren't wearing uniforms but they were clearly part of some sort of organization. They fanned out in the room, creating a large triangle that encompassed most of the room.
"Well," Marco stood up. "I'd say that's my cue to get back to work." Jack stood and they shook hands.
"You know," he said, almost as an afterthought. "Mrs. Harcourt out in El Hadiz might know more about this. I'll give her a call."
Jack's face split into a huge smile. "You're the best, Marco."
"Yeah, well I know you're good for it."
"Always."
Marco glanced at the students. "Need help with them?"
"No, I can take care of it."
"You always do, Jack."
Marco pushed open the kitchen door and was swallowed by a cloud of steam.
Hermione glanced again at the three men. They looked menacing. All three of them were watching their little group but trying to look like they weren't.
"Captain," Hermione asked quietly. "What's going on?"
"Bounty hunters. Nothing to worry about."
"What?" Ron gasped. "Why are they hear?"
"I'm worth 12,000 pesos to the Anglos." Jack chuckled at their shocked faces. "Anglia and I don't get along."
"So what's the plan?" Harry asked. "What do we do?"
"You three are going to, very calmly and quietly, get up and walk out the door. Do you remember how to get back to the ship?"
Hermione wasn't sure but Ron nodded. "Yeah, but what about you? We have our wands still. We can help."
"Why would I need your help?"
"There are three of them and one of you," Ron said.
Jack smiled. "Yeah, doesn't really seem fair on them, does it?"
Hermione stared, wide-eyed, at Jack. She didn't look worried, in fact, she looked quite relaxed.
"Go," Jack said. "I'll be with you in ten minutes."
Hermione, Ron, and Harry got up. Hermione felt like she was walking in slow motion. The bounty hunters tracked the students' progress with their eyes but didn't move. Jack was right, they wanted her.
As they left the bar, Ron led them down the street. They'd got out. They were all right.
They were halfway down the block when Hermione started giggling. She was fleeing from bounty hunters who were after her friend, the pirate captain with the flying ship.
"Hermione?" Ron asked. She laughed and laughed, her voice getting shriller. The enormity of their situation crashed around her. She had dropped out of school. She was hunting parts of a man's soul. She was miles from home in another universe with a slim chance of ever seeing her world again.
"Hermione, snap out of it!" Harry slapped her in the back.
She leaned over and put her hands on her knees. She gasped for breath.
"Sorry," she mumbled. "I was getting a little hysterical."
"We noticed," Ron said. Hermione happened to meet his eyes. He was looking at her with such concern. It almost made her afraid.
Ron looked away quickly. "We'd better get back to the ship."
They walked in silence for the rest of the way to the ship. It was the silence that struck them when they walked up the gangplank. Hermione glanced around. Something wasn't right. The gangplank was down so Mandy and Garcia had obviously made it back. The ship was silent. The engine below decks wasn't making any noise like it should have been if they'd been down there tending to it.
Hermione looked at Harry and Ron. They had noticed the silence too.
"Where is everyone?" Ron asked quietly. Hermione looked around the deck that had become so familiar to her. She noticed that the door to her, Mandy, and Doc Philips' room was open a crack. She had definitely left it closed. Hermione silently pointed it out.
They all withdrew their wands and crept up to the door. Hermione stood next to the door, her hand on it. At Harry's nod, she pushed it.
A man. A man with a gun.
"Stupefy!"
"Expelliarmus!"
Both spells missed the man who jumped out of the room. He had a gun. Hermione tried to disarm him. He dodged and fired.
Her hand was on fire. Hermione screamed and dropped her wand. Blood poured down her fingers. She was jerked up. Something choked her throat. Something jabbed her cheek. She froze.
The man had his arm around her neck. His gun was pressed again her face. It glinted in the sunlight. Hermione couldn't tear her eyes from it.
"Please," Ron's voice made her look up. He was three metres away. His right shoulder was bleeding and his lip was split. Someone had hit him. The man? Ron didn't have his wand.
"Let her go," Ron said. His voice shook.
"Let her go?" the man repeated. His voice was scratchy. "Why would I do that?"
"Please." Ron said again.
Where was Harry? Hermione glanced around the deck. She cried out.
"Shut up!" The man moved the gun moved to her temple.
Harry was face down on the deck. He wasn't moving. He wasn't bleeding either from what Hermione could see.
"Your Miss Silver is worth 12,000 pesos in Anglia," the man with the gun said. "I wonder how much three of her pirate crew would be worth?"
"Captain Silver," Ron corrected. The man snorted.
"We're not pirates. We're interlopers," Hermione used the word for the first time.
"Interlopers?" the man laughed. "Unregistered I'm guessing? Even better. I'm guaranteed a price for you right here. No need to haul out to Anglia."
Damn it.
"Look," Ron was speaking again. "What's your name? I'm Ron. That's Hermione and Harry."
How could he be so calm? Hermione forced herself to breathe.
The man was silent for a moment. "Bernard," he grunted.
"Harris, all right," Ron said. "Let's talk. How much would we be worth?"
"You trying to barter with me?" Bernard asked.
"Yes."
Bernard scoffed. "You're green kid. You don't know how it works."
"We have things from our world," Ron said. "You could sell them instead of us."
"I could sell them after I sell you."
Ron was silent. Hermione forced herself to breathe. It had been a good idea.
"What have you done with the others?" Ron asked.
Bernard jerked his head at Harry. "They're taking a nap. Like him, but below decks. That engine makes so much noise they didn't hear a thing."
Hermione stared at Ron. She could see his mind whirling. He looked around, up, down, left, right. Hermione glanced around too. Was there anything that she could use? She couldn't think. The gun was too cold, her bleeding hand hurt too much. She just wanted to cry.
Ron raised his hands. "We're your prisoners. Let go of Hermione."
"So you can get your magic sticks and put me out of business? Don't think so. She's leverage."
"Let her go." Ron took a step forward.
"Stop!" Bernard turned the gun on Ron. Ron stopped.
"All right," said Ron. "It's all right. We can work this out."
"The hell we can."
"Who's worth more, us three or Captain Jack?"
"She is," Bernard said. "She's worth all three of you and then some."
"So she's the one that you really want," Ron said. "She's coming back soon. She'll be alone and she just fought three bounty hunters at a bar. She'll be weak."
What was Ron doing? Selling out Jack? How could he? Hermione tried to gesture no with her eyes.
Bernard laughed. "Yeah, I know," he said. "They're my partners. 12,000 for her and 3,000 apiece for the three of you split four ways. Not bad for a day's work."
Hermione's heart fell.
"Oh! And then there's the two below decks. Their price is negotiable" Bernard sounded so happy. Hermione hated him.
"Don't do this," Ron sounded like Hermione felt, desperate. He took a step sideways.
"Stop," Bernard pressed the gun harder against her temple. Her turned her with a jerk so that she was a shield between him and Ron. Hermione held her breath. She closed her eyes.
Bang!
The arm around her neck went slack then slipped off. The gun's pressure disappeared. Her face felt hot and wet. Hermione's eyes flew open.
Bernard lay on the deck. His eyes were open. There was a bloody, gushing hole where his right eye was. Blood pooled around his head.
Footsteps. Hermione looked up. Jack was running up the gangplank. She had been in a fight: she had dried blood under her nose and on her hands. The pistol in her hand smoked. The rest of the crew were right behind her.
"Jamie, let's go! We're hot!" she cried. "Barbossa, need you in the engine room. Doc, look after them."
Anne came up to Hermione.
"Let's have a look at that hand," she said gently. "Bart, can you bring Harry and then go check on Mandy and Garcia? Come along, Ron." She led Hermione away.
"I- What?" Hermione's head was spinning. "What happened?"
"It was Jack," Anne said. "Jack shot him. You're safe now. It's ok."
"But, but the bounty hunters-"
"Were no match for Jack," Anne smiled.
They got to the infirmary and Hermione let Anne stitch up her hand. She was in a daze. She was alive. She had another man's blood on her face. She had bruises on her neck from his arm. She was alive.
The room lurched as the ship took off. The engine was purring in its familiar way. It was almost normal.
Hermione didn't move off of her bench. People came in and out of the infirmary. Harry woke up. Hermione vaguely heard Anne tell him that he'd be fine. Mandy and Garcia came in, they were fine too, though Garcia took an ice pack. Harry left with them.
Jack came in. She spoke to Anne and Ron. She left.
After a while, Ron came over and sat next to her. He was only wearing an undershirt and Anne's stitches were visible in his shoulder. His lip was still split and a bruise was blooming on his left cheek.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"I don't know," she said. They sat in silence. Ron's good shoulder was closest to her. Hermione lay her head on it. She needed human contact. She needed to feel that she was actually still here.
"I'm all right, I guess," she said finally.
"I'm glad you're all right." Ron took her hand. She let him.
"How did you do it?" Hermione asked. "You were so calm."
"I wasn't. I was just faking it."
"You fooled me."
"I was panicking," said Ron. "I thought I was going to pass out, or start crying."
"Me too."
"Then I saw Jack."
"Jack?" Hermione lifted her head off his shoulder and looked at him.
"Yeah, she was behind you," he said. "I guess that's how I did it, stayed calm, I mean. She gestured at me to keep him talking. Then she told me to make him turn to the left."
"You took a step sideways."
"Yeah. Jack couldn't get a clear shot. She was afraid that the bullet would go right through him and hit you. I had to make him turn."
Hermione leaned up and kissed his cheek. Ron's eyes were as big as dinner plates.
"Thank you," she said. Hermione lay her head back on his shoulder. She felt pressure on her head. He rested his head on top of hers.
"You're welcome."