"Why are you here, are you listening?/ Can you hear what I am saying?/ I am not here, I'm not listening/ I'm in my head and I'm spinning/ Is this who you are?/ Some sweet violent urge/ A weak fallen man/ With the promise of an end?"
Fallen; 30 Seconds to Mars
Demon Called Deception
Chapter Twenty One: Altercations
"This is going to pose a problem."
"No, it's not."
Skinner turned to him, incredulous. "They're already here. How could that not be a problem?"
Titus laughed at his concern. "Because it does not matter. They will not be able to do anything to stop what is about to happen. No one will."
"I've gone through this before."
"Well then you should be more knowledgeable about how to deal with them, shouldn't you?" Titus asked condescendingly, turning his dark-eyed gaze to Skinner.
Skinner bristled at the question. Titus had a way of talking down to him; talking like he was so much better than him. The last time Skinner had been through this, he had been in control. He had been the one to call the shots before. Now he was just like a silent partner. He had been the one that everyone had seen while Titus remained hidden in the shadows, always watching.
"They'll hide," Skinner said finally. "They'll try ta ambush us once we get ta the cave."
A wry grin crossed Titus' lips. "There's no cave, Captain Skinner." Titus stretched out an arm, pointing to a stone building in the middle of the ruined city that rose into the skyline. "It will be there, in that temple. What other place would be as fitting as the Temple of Chronos? That is where it will be. That is where you will find your treasure."
Skinner watched Titus as he spoke. The way his jaw clenched as he mentioned the treasure did not sit right with Skinner. There was something else that Titus was not telling him.
Tristan woke with a jolt, concern crossing his mind as he found the floor next to him empty. He pushed himself up as he searched the small cell. Relief flooded through him as he found Emory sitting across from him, her head resting against the metal bars, her right arm resting atop her bent knee. She was staring at him, her mismatched eyes watching him closely.
"You stayed all night," she stated, her voice soft.
"I couldn't leave you."
Emory nodded slowly. "Thank you," she replied, closing her eyes. "It was . . . comforting."
Tristan stared at her, unsure of what to say. In the entire time he had known her, Emory had never spoken to him in this way. She had always been harsh, disconnected, distant, always too afraid to allow him to get too close. Tristan stood up and made his way over to her. He knelt down, taking hold of the hand resting on her knee. He simply looked at her, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb.
"We're here," she whispered, her eyes flicking to the wall behind him. "They'll be coming for me soon." She looked at him again. "Promise me something."
"What is it?"
"Promise me you'll stay away from the island."
Tristan took a deep breath. "I can't do that."
"Yes you can. I don't want you to be there."
"I have to be. I'm not going to let you go there by yourself. Not with them."
Emory gave an exasperated sigh. "I can take care of myself Tristan. I don't want you there."
"Why? What's going on? What aren't you telling me?"
"I just-I can't- I won't," she paused, letting out a frustrated groan. Finally her eyes turned back to him, the intensity of her gaze startling him. "I don't want to see you dead!" she blurted.
Tristan stared at her, his brows furrowing. "Is that what you think is going to happen? That's why you don't want me there?"
"Yes," she whispered.
Tristan smiled slightly, cupping her cheek with his free hand. "I'm not going to die," he paused and pressed a light kiss to her forehead. "And whether you like it or not, you're stuck with me for life," he paused again a wry smile crossing his face. "However long that might be."
Emory smiled, the first true smile he had seen from her since he had first met her. "It may not be that long. I don't know what's going to happen. And before they come for me I just want to let you know something."
Tristan pressed his forehead to hers, his face only an inch away. "What's that?"
"I'm still mad at you," she replied and closed the distance between them, catching his lips with hers.
The stillness of the island was unnerving. There was no wind, no movement. The absence of outside noise made Jack nervous. True, he had dealt with cursed islands before, but this one was different. The Past seemed to linger around them. Wisps of people seemed to walk between the broken buildings as if going about their daily business. He couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched, that they were being followed, even though there was no one else on the island.
"It's like everyone just disappeared," Michel said, his hand resting on the hilt to his sword. "There are no bodies, no signs of anyone actually leaving. What happened here?"
"The Gods grew angry," Conway answered. "No one actually knows what happened, only that the island disappeared, lost in Time."
"So the people are lost in Time as well? But if the island is here, why aren't they?"
Conway shrugged. "Who knows? Only one Historian dug into the Insula Peritorum's history. The Temple of Chronos is where it is said to have begun. That is where Prisis beat Titus."
"Which is why we're going there," Will stated.
"Yes. It will have to end there."
Jack listened to the conversation, not adding anything to what Conway was saying. He was too engrossed in his own thoughts. He was still feeling unsettled; something was still tugging at the back of his mind. He was sure he was supposed to remember something, but he could not figure out what it was.
The temple loomed up in front of them, the cracked pillars rising high above them. Arched entryways stood before them, the rooms dark despite the sun shining on them. Jack stopped at the foot of the marble steps and gazed up into the dark temple. It was finally going to be over. Everything. All the pain, the loss, the curse, everything was going to end. It was so close he could almost taste it.
"Why are we stopping?" Rebecca asked as she stopped next to Jack. "Why are we not going in?"
Jack looked over at her after a moment, gazing into her brown eyes. "I don't know," he replied. "Fear, maybe? After everythin' we've been through, I don't know what's goin' ta happen in there. Aren't you a little worried? Don't you wonder what might happen?"
Rebecca stared at him, then up into the temple. "No, I don't," she said softly. "I'm not the Chosen so I try not to think about it. You used my blood to raise the island, that's all," she finished, her words slightly bitter.
"Rebecca-"
"Let's go, shall we?" she interrupted. Before he could reply, she began to climb the steps, her eyes looking nowhere else but at the dark doorway into the temple.
Jack watched her climb, something akin to admiration for his daughter echoing in his eyes. She had spirit and courage, he would give her that. Jack placed one foot on the bottom step, his heart pounding in his chest. He shook his head, shaking away his fear and doubt. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Slowly, step-by-step, he climbed, his eyes never leaving the doorway, a sense of foreboding building in his gut.
They walked as a group, each person holding onto the handles of their various weapons, their eyes scanning each dark corner and every shadowed doorway. Shivers ran down spines as a stiff, cool breeze blew from somewhere in front of them. Gibbs' eyes widened, his superstitious mind getting the better of him.
"This wind bodes ill, Cap'n," he said, his voice echoing in the stone chamber. "I don't think we should be here."
"Old ghosts," was Jack's simple, nonchalant reply.
"Doesn't make me feel any better," Gibbs mumbled.
AnaMaria stared off into the distance, her eyes scanning the vast horizon. Behind her was anchored the Silent Whisper, the woman known as Destiny standing at the helm. The Whisper's crew was ready for anything, as were the crew of the Pearl. There had been no wind since the island appeared, only a light breeze that did not even ruffle the sails.
AnaMaria hated this part, she hated waiting. She would rather be in the thick of it. She would rather be right there with her captain making sure that this hell was going to be over. They had all been through too much, seen too much, and she knew that she was not the only one glad that it was about to be over.
She turned to look behind her, expecting, hoping, to see a new ship appear on the water so that the battle royale could begin. AnaMaria was itching for a fight. She wanted the bastards to come so that she could bury them in the waves for everything they had put them through.
"Where are you, you bastards?" she seethed, her eyes going to the island. She worried for her captain and crewmates. There was no telling what was going on on the island; no telling if they had fallen into some ancient trap. "Be safe, Captain," she whispered, her attention once again going to the ocean around her.
Emory was sitting up in the tiny lifeboat doing her best not to reveal the pain that she felt. Every so often, however, her body would betray her and she would hunch over, the pain overwhelming her senses. When she would sit back up she would see Titus grinning at her, a malevolent glint in his eyes. She knew that the bastard was enjoying her pain; knew that he enjoyed every shudder that passed through her.
"It is almost over, my dear," he stated, his grin widening. "And then everything will be mine. Including," he paused, his hand reaching out to touch her cheek, "you."
Tristan's hand shot out from in front of Emory, grabbing Titus's wrist before he could touch her. "Don't touch her," he growled, his eyes growing hard.
Titus' gaze flicked to Tristan as he wrenched his wrist from Tristan's grasp. The grin fell from his lips as he caught the silent threat emanating from the other man's eyes. Tristan moved slightly, placing his body in front of Emory's, shielding her from Titus. "Don't ever touch her again."
"And what are you going to do?" Titus sneered. "You have no idea what I am capable of."
"I don't care," Tristan shot back. "You will not touch her again while I am around."
"Then I'll just have to remedy that situation, won't I?"
"Your threats don't frighten me."
A trembling hand on his shoulder caused Tristan to glance behind him. Emory's eyes were wide, fear flashing through them briefly. "Enough," she whispered. "Please."
Tristan nodded slowly and turned his attention back to Titus. "We'll finish this later," he promised.
Titus grinned. "Yes, we will."
The open door at the end of the hall glowed slightly, illuminating the group of men and women standing a few feet in front of it. Jack and Rebecca stood side by side; Will, Alex, Michel and James right behind them. The two pirate crews stood even further away at the foot of the small staircase, frightened by Gibbs' constant talk of bad luck and ill omens.
Nothing could be seen past the glowing doorway, no room was visible to any of them. No treasure could be seen, no one could be seen protecting the doorway. It was as if the building just disappeared through the light; as if the world just stopped being.
"I don't understand," Rebecca stated, rubbing her arms in an attempt to ease the chill that had settled in her bones. "Is this supposed to be it?"
"Dunno," Jack responded. "Maybe."
"Obviously it's a door," Conway stated dryly, "but to where?"
"Dunno," Jack said again.
"Oh this is ridiculous!" Rebecca snapped and stepped forward, her arm outstretched, reaching for the empty doorway.
"You are not the Guardian," a voice called out, causing Rebecca to jump back in alarm. "You may not enter."
Jack's hand went to his sword, unsheathing it slightly. "Who's there?"
"I," the voice said again just as a figure began to appear in the light, walking steadily towards them, "am Clio. Keeper of the Guardian's Riddle and purveyor of the Test."
A woman now stood in front of them, her hair tightly curled in small ringlets, her robes hanging loosely on her thin body, held together by a simple rope belt. She held a rolled up scroll on one hand. Her eyes were glowing as she surveyed the group in front of her. A gentle smile crossed her lips as her gaze settled on Rebecca.
"You," she began, her soft voice reverberating off of the stone walls surrounding them, "are the Equal. You were born not to be the Guardian, the bearer of the map. You should not be here; your life should have been spared."
"Well obviously it hasn't."
Clio's smile turned sad. "For that I am truly sorry."
"There has to be something more for me," Rebecca whispered. "This cannot be all I am here for."
Clio cocked her head to one side slightly, her glowing eyes staring intently in Rebecca's. "You are so much stronger than you believe yourself to be. But your strength lies in your heart. You will touch so many lives, help so many. That, in many ways, is just as important as being the Guardian. Understand that."
Rebecca's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
Clio shook her head. "I cannot tell you that; I am sorry."
"We're here-" Jack started, taking a step forward.
"I know why you are here, Jack Sparrow," Clio interrupted, her gaze turning to him. "You have been a Protector of both your wife and daughters for longer than you care to admit. You must understand that this may be something that you cannot defeat."
"I have to see this through," he replied. "No matter what happens, I have to. For Lor."
Clio smiled again. "Then you shall. No matter what happens, you shall be here when it is finished."
The voices echoed through the wide hallway, reaching the ears of Skinner and his crew. He turned his gaze to Titus, watched as a grin widened on the other man's face. "We should take them out from afar," Skinner said.
Titus shook his head. "No. She will not allow them to be hurt for now. Once the test is complete we will take care of them."
"What're ya talkin' about?" Skinner snapped.
"The Guardian of the Gate," Titus replied calmly. "The Muse of History, Clio. She was charged hundreds of years ago by Chronos to administer a test to the Guardian. If their desires are pure they will pass and receive the treasure as a reward."
"Well then," Tristan whispered, leaning in closer to Emory's ear. "I guess it's a good thing you don't have a pure bone in your body."
Emory gave a scowl mixed with pain. "If it didn't hurt to move, I would punch you," she stated.
Tristan smiled in response. He loved to tease her. And right now it was the only thing he could do to try and keep her mind off of everything that was going on.
"What happens if they don't pass?" one of the pirates questioned.
Titus merely smiled. "That is something we will just have to wait for, isn't it?"
Skinner glared at the other man. Now, more that ever, his distrust in Titus raged. There was always something he was hiding; always one more thing that Titus did not tell him. Of course, Skinner had his own plans. And soon he would put them in action.
The walk towards the other group of pirates seemed so much longer than it was. Every time Emory took a step the wound in her leg would pound with pain. The throbbing in her head grew steadily worse the closer they got to the other group. She was truly thankful that Tristan was there for her to lean on. And that was something that confused her.
Emory wasn't sure if she would be able to do this 'test' that Titus spoke of. Her vision was blurry; her grip on reality seemed to be slipping. There were so many people around her; so many people that everyone else just walked by without noticing. But Emory noticed them and knew who they were. Men, women, and children who had died hundreds of years ago, their souls trapped on this island, never able to move on.
"Em?" Tristan whispered. "What is it?"
"Nothing," she replied, shaking her head slowly. "I can hear them. Sparrow and the others. They're up ahead."
Tristan's head shot up to look ahead of them, his eyes barely able to make out the other group of pirates in the dim light. "Why are they just standing there?"
Emory shook her head again. "I don't know."
Clio's head tilted slightly, her glowing eyes focused on something over Jack's shoulder. "She has arrived," she said, her low voice bouncing off the stone walls.
Jack turned around quickly, his eyes scanning the dimly lit hallway. His hand covered the hilt of his sword the moment he could make out the group of men walking towards them. Skinner was at the head of the group, his scarred face smiling up at them. Jack scanned the crowd behind Skinner, looking for the only important face in the crowd.
His heart thumped in his chest the second he caught sight of Emory. Bandages covered what little he could see of her. Her eyes, her odd, multicolored eyes, were dim and drowning in pain. She was leaning heavily on Tristan; barely able to walk even with his help. Jack could feel anger build in his body, causing his muscles to tense up. He could feel Conway beside him tensing up as well, anger emanating off of him in thick tendrils.
"There will be no fighting here," Clio said beside him, her voice carrying to the men in front of them. "Whosoever breaks this rule will suffer a painful death."
Skinner's smile merely widened. "Oh ya won't 'ave any problems with me," he spat out. He raised his left arm up and gestured behind him. "Bring 'er 'ere son."
Jack's eyes flicked back to Tristan, confusion filtering into his gaze. "Son?"
Skinner laughed. "Aye. Ya 'ad my son with ya the entire time an' didn't know it. Ain't life a bitch?"
Jack's retort died on his lips as Emory and Tristan walked to the front of the group. Close up she looked even worse than she did from far away. He could now see the bruises littering her body; could now see the blood encrusted on her clothing.
"Oh my God," he heard Rebecca hiss beside him. Will grabbed her hand and squeezed gently, offering her as much comfort as he possible could.
"She'll be alright," he whispered. "She's strong."
"That's what she'd like you ta think," Skinner bit out.
"You are the Guardian?" Clio asked, her glowing eyes landing solely on Emory.
"Yes," Emory replied, and then added, "Unfortunately."
"Come closer Guardian. Are you prepared?"
Emory gave a snort of laughter. "Not really. But I don't have a choice, do I?"
Clio merely smiled.
Tristan began to help Emory up the stairs when a hand slammed into his chest, stopping him. He looked up into his father's dark eyes. "Stand back boy. I'll take her from here."
"No," Tristan stated bluntly.
"Don't argue with me boy."
"Tristan," Emory interrupted. She broke away from him and walked a few steps ahead. She began to climb the few steps as Skinner stepped up to her. She hissed as he grabbed her arm and yanked her forward.
"Hurry it up wench. We 'aven't got all day."
Emory didn't respond. Her eyes were set on Clio, her mind trying to ignore the many souls watching them. Jack and his crew moved aside as they climbed, honoring Clio's spoken rule. There would be no fighting. At least not anytime soon.
Clio unrolled the scroll in her hand the moment they stopped in front of her, Skinner one step behind Emory. "You must pass one test Guardian. If you pass you shall receive the ultimate gift of Time. Are you prepared?" she asked again.
"Yes."
Clio smiled again. "Good. Then we shall begin. You must first answer my riddle."
"First?" Emory asked. Clio ignored her, instead turning to the parchment in her hand.
"Listen closely to your clues:
I am the increase of ages,
The withering of stone.
I am the passing of tides,
The wilting of flowers.
I am the erosion of sands,
The birth and death of civilizations.
I am the dying of oceans,
The epoch of the cursed.
The Alpha and Omega.
Who am I?"
Emory stared at the muse, her eyes searching her still smiling face. The clues soared through her mind, the words forming and reforming. "The increase of ages," she whispered. "The Alpha and Omega."
Her eyes grew distant as she focused solely on the riddle. The world around her disappeared. No one and nothing existed save for the one answer she needed. A sudden ticking began to sound in her mind as she pondered. A ticking that sounded almost like a . . .
"Clock," she suddenly whispered. Emory jerked her head up as realization dawned on her. The answer that had been on the tip of her tongue the entire time was finally uttered. "Time."
Clio closed her scroll, her glowing eyes shining a little brighter for a brief moment. "You have answered the riddle, Guardian. You may enter." Clio stepped away from the doorway, lifting one hand to gesture behind her. "Your treasure, your gift, is through this door. You must enter now. Alone."
Emory's gaze snapped to Clio's. "What's behind that door? Why do I have to go alone?"
Clio merely smiled, her arm still raised in the air, one long, slender finger pointing at the doorway. Emory started forward but stopped as Skinner's grip tightened. She turned around quickly, her eyes staring up into his. Emory saw the flicker of deceit flash in his eyes. "The treasure is mine," he hissed. Before she could move, before anyone could move, Skinner shoved her aside and ran up the stairs. Jack caught Emory as she fell backward, holding onto her as tightly as he could without hurting her any more than she already was.
Clio stepped in his way, attempting to block his path. "You may not enter! You are not the Guardian!"
Skinner merely sneered and swerved around her. Victory swelled in his chest as he reached the doorway. He had finally won. Titus be damned. It was all his.
A heavy feeling began to build in his gut as he stepped through the door as if someone had filled him with shot from his canon. A ripping sound made its way through to his confused mind, followed soon after by an extreme pain that forced a piercing scream to tear from his throat.
The group of pirates, friends and enemies alike, watched in horror as Skinner's flesh was torn from his body. Muscle and sinew dissolved and fell as if they were sand falling from a loose grip. His screams continued until there was nothing left but bones and ashes. Rebecca covered her mouth as the pile of bones broke into pieces, splintering until there was nothing left but dust.
The group stood still until Clio turned back to them, raising her hand once again and pointing at Emory. "You must enter now, Guardian. Claim your gift."
Emory stared up at her and then turned to Jack. "Let me go," she said slowly. "I have to finish this."
"Em-" he started and then stopped. He stared at her, taking in the look of steely resolve in her eyes. His grip on her loosened, allowing her to stand on her own. "Be careful love."
Emory nodded quickly and then stepped forward, keeping her back stiff, attempting to walk as steadily as she could. With one last look at the people behind her she walked into the glowing door. The sound of the first sword being drawn came the moment she disappeared.
AN: Sorry that this has been delayed. I can't believe it's been two months since I updated. I think it's just that the closer I get to the end, the harder it is to write because I just don't want to let it go. So I guess we're down to the final countdown. Only three chapters to go. Thanks to all my reviewers for sticking with me until the end. All of you have really been awesome!