Disclaimer: What do I own? Let's see... some pencils and about a billion notebooks.. a journal... some novels... a block of cheese... Sarah, Kristie, Robert, Jonathan and Jacob... a once-blue-now-grey messenger bag that goes everywhere with me... nope, Pirates of the Caribbean definitely does not make the list. Darn.

Now, on to chapter seven. :D

Later

Dear Diary,

I really should be asleep, but Kristie and I overheard a conversation from the hallway this evening and I simply had to write about it. Kristie brought her sword up on deck this afternoon, but forgot to bring it back to our cabin. For some reason, she asked if I would join her in going back up to fetch it, and having nothing better to do, I agreed. As we were walking towards the hatch, I heard voices coming from Uncle Jack's cabin, and on a whim, stopped to listen. I quickly recognized one of the voices as Jacob, the new hand we hired on in Tortuga. Somehow Jack found out that he grew up near the cay where Jonathan has supposedly been taken, and I knew that he had offered to help in navigating the area.

The conversation started innocently enough- they were simply talking about where exactly it was that we're headed. When Jacob asked to see the map for a moment, I moved to the keyhole so I could see inside. When he turned the map over and saw the note scrawled on the back, he let out a muffled gasp and whispered, "Ivan!" I have no idea who this Ivan is, but I assume he is the writer of the note. When Jack asked if he had said anything, he managed to pass it off as merely clearing his throat.

I doubt I shall be able to sleep at all tonight, but I am not really allowed to be up at this hour, so I shan't write any more tonight.

Always,

Sarah Turner

Early the next afternoon, Sarah, Kristie and Robert convened in the crow's nest to discuss Jacob and this strange Ivan fellow.

"It's obvious 'e's the one who snatched Jonny," Kristie announced.

Sarah and Robert both nodded in agreement. "But how would Jacob know his name, or that he was the one we're dealing with?" she thought aloud.

Chewing his lower lip in concentration, Robert suggested that perhaps their new crew member had been a victim of another of Ivan's evil schemes.

"Or 'e could be 'is partner in crime, an' he joined the crew ta spy on us," Kristie offered, her black eyes alight with excitement at the thought.

"No," Sarah said carefully, planning her next words with care. "Uncle Jack might not always be the wisest captain-"

"Hey! Watch it!" Kristie cut in.

"But I think he would have suspected something if that were true," Sarah finished, ignoring Kristie's outburst. "After all, he's too experienced in the art of tricking people to let it slip by him," she remarked.

The threesome sat in silence for a time, each lost in their own thoughts. "Papa said we should be arrivin' at the cay in about four days," Kristie mused.

"Good," Sarah muttered. "I'm not sure I could stand to wait longer than that." Expecting to hear an answer from Robert, she glanced over to where he sat, only to discover that he was no longer in his place. "Robert?" she called, confusion evident in her tone. Suddenly he landed in front of the other two children with a thud as he scampered down from the rigging, where he had climbed a few minutes before.

"Sorry," he mumbled awkwardly, hastily returning to his previous position. However, the little book he attempted to conceal behind his back as he rested against the wall caught Sarah's attention, and she recognized it instantly as the one she had seen him with in Tortuga.

"What is that?" she inquired innocently.

"What book?" he asked, shifting discreetly as if to block her view of the offending object. His tan face took on a lovely shade of crimson when she looked pointedly at the notebook, making it clear that his acting skills could use some work. "If you didn't know what I was referring to, you wouldn't have known it was a book, now, would you?" she commented with a smirk.

Guiltily, he withdrew it from behind him, lifting it up sheepishly. Now she could see that it was indeed a notebook, crafted of leather and similar to her own diary, albeit a bit more worn. She extended a hand. "May I?" she asked softly.

He hesitated, wavering in his decision. First he drew his hand back slightly, and with a stinging sense of loss, Sarah assumed she would not be allowed to peek inside. She had to keep herself from breathing a sigh of relief, though, when he reluctantly handed the book over to her.

He stared at the ground like a child in trouble with his mother as she curiously opened the notebook, clasping and unclasping his fingers repeatedly. Though the girls had doubted it to be possible, his face took on an even darker shade of pink when she stared incredulously at the first page. Utterly enthralled, she slowly, almost reverently turned the page, her jaw hanging slack as her eyes roved over whatever it was he had put within the little book.

Unable to simply sit patiently, Kristie reached for the notebook, all but begging for Sarah to hand it over. The older girl reluctantly relinquished it, and her friend eagerly took it, curiosity dancing in her dark eyes as she peered at the pages. Almost instantaneously, her jaw dropped and her eyes widened, just as Sarah's had.

"Y-you like them?" Robert stuttered nervously, watching the looks on their faces but not knowing quite what to make of the matching astonished expressions.

Both Kristie and Sarah, who had moved to watch over her shoulder, tore their eyes away from the beautiful drawings on the page to meet his uneasy gaze. "I love them!" Sarah exclaimed. "Why don't you ever show anyone these?" Her eyes were irrepressibly drawn back to the book, which was currently opened to an incredibly lifelike portrait of Jack with his compass, standing at the wheel of his precious ship. Turning to the next picture, her eyes alighted on a drawing of Kristie and herself up in the crow's nest, in the midst of a lively discussion. Another page bore a depiction of Ana, with Jonathan resting against her left hip. The sight of the toddler brought the guilt and the stress rushing back to her, and her heart protested with a dull ache. Apparently Kristie felt the same, for she bit her lip, then closed the book.

In response to her question, Robert shrugged. "You should," Sarah declared.

As shy as ever, he made no reply, and the trio's conversation eventually drifted to other things. Later, when Robert climbed down, leaving the girls to themselves, Sarah leaned over and whispered to Kristie, "Who knew your brother was an artist?"

The younger girl shook her head. "Knowin' him, prob'ly no one."

"How can you be sure this is going to work? What if he sees us?"

"Shh. It'll be fine, ye'll see."

"Kristie, you said that about Tortuga, too."

"Shut it."

"It's true!"

The pair tiptoed towards the dusty crevice in the corner of the galley where Jacob kept his personal possessions, though there was little use in quieting their footsteps when they were whispering so much. They wished to try to obtain some clue as to his past by looking through his belongings. Sarah had noticed his habit of keeping things here the night before, and the two had decided that there must be some dark, mysterious secret he wished to keep hidden. Everyone else kept their things near their hammocks.

Arriving at the corner, the two dropped to their knees beside the little trunk and simultaneously reached for the latch. They were sorely disappointed to find it to be securely locked. Sitting back on her heels, Kristie sighed and pondered the situation for a moment, then suddenly snapped her fingers. "That's it!" Sarah looked at her questioningly. "Ye got a hairpin?" She didn't know how it would aid them, but nevertheless she removed a wire pin from her brown locks, causing a few unruly curls to fall forward into her eyes. Pushing them back over one ear, she handed the pin to her friend, curious to see what she would do with it. She watched, spellbound, as Kristie stuck the wire object into the keyhole, then pulled it out and bent it a bit. She repeated this process a few times, then exclaimed, "Eureka! I got it!" Using the pin as a key, she easily unlocked the little chest.

"I'm not even going to ask where you learned to do that."

"Wise decision, mate."

Together, they reached for the lid, Sarah glancing nervously around to ascertain that this deed would not be witnessed by anyone else, and pulled it open. At first, they saw nothing but a spare change of deckhand attire, much like the plain garments he donned every day. Absolutely certain that there was a reason for Jacob to hide this here, Kristie began to remove the neatly folded clothing to see what might lie beneath. Much to her satisfaction, towards the bottom of the chest they found a comb. It was nothing fancy, but it was incredibly rare for a pirate to own such a commodity. Now that they thought about it, it was also rare for a pirate to fold his clothes; most couldn't be bothered to handle such trifles. They exchanged a curious look. Obviously he had been raised well, and had a past that was markedly different from those of his shipmates. Why a comb, though? Perhaps it had belonged to a loved one and now served as a reminder of them?

At the sound of footsteps in the corridor, Kristie muttered something under her breath. Sarah hastily returned the chest's contents to their proper places and quietly closed the lid, securely closing the lock. Adopting innocent, pleasant looks, they cheerily said their hellos Robin as he walked by, and he returned the greeting. After only a few days on board, Robin was already quite well-liked by everyone. His friendly, easy-going demeanor made it all but impossible not to grow fond of him. He kept the other hands well entertained with his so-called "astrological skills," particularly Mr. Gibbs. Sarah personally believed that he simply enjoyed studying the history of it, and did not truly believe his far-fetched predictions, but she had not mentioned this to anyone as of yet. She had decided to simply let this phase run its course; to let everyone have some fun with it before she started to speak against it.

"Oopsies," Kristie said suddenly, and Sarah turned to look at her questioningly. "I left the pin," she explained sheepishly, and Sarah turned to lean her head against the wall in frustration.

Will was tangled in the rigging high above the deck, helping to unfurl one of the Pearl's tattered black sails. He could see Sarah and Kristie from here, arguing over something. He smiled at the sight, shaking his head in wonder. How those two managed to remain best friends was beyond him. As he watched the pair's bickering, he could not help but think of the new little life to arrive soon. Though he already had an eleven-year-old daughter, the role of a father was still a relatively new experience for him, and he was determined to be there for every part of the baby's life, as he had been denied the opportunity to do for his eldest. Although Elizabeth had assured him more times than he could count that it was unnecessary and unreasonable, he felt the guilt rushing back to him. How he wished he could have been there for his family during those ten years! True enough, those who died at sea needed him there in the Land of the Dead, especially after the way they had been neglected by Davy Jones, but he had needed to be there for his wife and daughter as well.

Suddenly, a horrible thought invaded his mind. It had been lurking there for a while now, but he had done his best to forget about it. Did Sarah fault him for his absence? Elizabeth had promised him she didn't, but how could she know? He had missed his daughter's childhood almost in its entirety. What troubles had she gone through without him there? It occurred to him that this could cause tension between siblings, and he could not stand it if a rift were to grow between two of his children. No, he chided himself, Sarah was not the type to become jealous, much less allow envy to divide her family. Nevertheless, he could not shake the uneasy feeling.

"Oy! Will'um! Come down 'ere!" Jolted back to reality by Jack's voice, Will wondered what that crazy pirate needed this time. Glancing down unhurriedly, he saw the captain examining an insignificant piece of driftwood with great intensity before abruptly pulling it away from his face and leaping back, dropping the stick as though it were on fire.

"I think he's delirious," Will muttered under his breath, climbing nimbly down the rigging.

Tuesday, October 1st

Dear Diary,

According to Jack, we are a mere two days from the cay, and everyone is growing anxious. We have learned very little about Jacob, despite the fact that Kristie and I have searched his belongings and spied on him for hours. All we have managed to learn is that he owns a comb and folds his clothes. We believe that the comb is likely a memento- a reminder of someone special to him, perhaps. Speaking of Kristie, her eleventh birthday is tomorrow! I'm sorry that it takes place in such a stressful time, but I'm sure we'll think of some way to make it enjoyable. I actually made her gift quite a while back- Father helped me to fashion a little locket in the smithy. It's quite simple, as I believe she would prefer. I decided against a heart shape, and made it into a plain circle instead, because she's such a tomboy. On the back we engraved her initials, and the front is made to look like a compass. I'm sure she'll love it.

These past couple of days, I've noticed that Father is acting unusual. He's very quiet, and seems to be lost in his thoughts. Mum has apparently noticed it too, for I've seen her watching him with a peculiar expression on her face. If you watch them for even just a few hours, it's plain to see that they know each other very well. They can communicate without so much as a single word; just a look in the others direction and the meaning is conveyed perfectly. I can't imagine how difficult it must have been for them to be separated for so long.

Mum just came by and told me Kristie was looking for me. I doubt I shall have much time to write tomorrow, but I shall try to spare at least a few minutes for you, dear diary.

Always,

Sarah Turner

Robin Weiss stretched out his weary limbs, wiping the sweat from his brow. So far he was greatly enjoying life at sea, although he had come at a rather inopportune time. The rest of the crew seemed to like him well enough, especially when he read them their daily horoscopes. He smiled softly and shook his head. It was not exactly a well-known fact, but his ancestors had been Gypsies, who truly believed in astrology as a trustworthy source of information. He simply enjoyed learning about Gypsy beliefs and customs, and found the practice of astrology particularly fascinating. Although Captain Sparrow seemed to be more than a tad tipsy on most days, everyone had been quite friendly. A few of those aboard the Pearl were incredibly complex characters, and he was trying his best to get to know them. Jacob, who had been a member of the crew for as short a time as Robin, was allegedly very experienced at navigating the area where they were headed, but no one seemed to know much else about him. Most had yet to catch a glimpse of his face. The friendship between Sarah Turner and Kristianna Sparrow intrigued him; you were just as likely to find them arguing as enjoying each others company.

In his peripheral vision, he watched as the captain laid the map down upon the stairs, setting his compass on top of that so as to prevent it from blowing away with the wind, and considered going over to have a look. He noticed a knot just a little ways above it that was beginning to come loose. Knowing he must act quickly before Sparrow came to retrieve the parchment, he decided to use tightening the knot as a ruse, and strode nonchalantly over to the stairwell. He discreetly glanced down at the paper as he reached for the unruly ropes, and noted that the side facing upwards bore not a map, but a threat: "Go here if you ever want to see your son again!" He was startled for a moment, but recovered quickly. Obviously the note did not refer to Robert, but another boy- unless Captain Sparrow was drunk again. Having had one of his friends go missing as a young lad growing up in Tortuga, he felt genuinely sorry for the Sparrows. He knew what it was like to have a loved one go missing.

His brow furrowed when he saw the oddly-shaped letters that composed the note. His eyes swiftly traversed the deck to be sure no one was paying attention to him, then he moved in to get a closer look. At first glance, one might simply think that the writer of the note must have simply had poor handwriting. However, he had had access to far more education than most boys of his status, and it didn't take him long to recognize the misshapen letters as having a remarkable similarity to Russian letters, as if the writer was used to forming Russian letters with his pen rather than English ones. He wondered why. There was a chance he simply was not a fluent writer, but there was also a possibility that there was some significance to the resemblance between this and the Russian language. Perhaps the kidnapper was of Russian descent? His thoughts were cut short, however, when he heard the distinctive clicking of the captain's boots upon the wooden deck. Tearing his eyes from the page, he returned his focus to the knot and hastily retied it. With a friendly nod to Jack, he meandered back across the wooden planks and back to his work.

(A/N:) Thanks again to all my awesome readers and reviewers! :) It's hard to believe I've already written seven chapters. So what do you guys think? You know the drill- click review button. Type review. Send review. Review goes to inkyfingers' inbox. Inkyfingers becomes happy. Inkyfingers writes more chapters. Repeat and begin again. Everyone lives happily ever after. The end. Savvy?

Well, off I go to write chapter eight! Hope everyone liked it!