"Isabelle," James called, banging on my door. I snapped my book shut and threw it onto my bedside table without pausing to think about the almighty thump it would make. I cringed and wondered if he'd heard it through the door. "What are you doing in there?"

The suspicion in his voice told me he'd heard.

"Nothing!" I called back, trying to sound as innocent as possible. I scrambled to my feet and glanced at the clock. Ten minutes. I was ten minutes later than James had asked me to be. I picked up my bag and stuffed my book into it just as the door opened.

James peered in at me, unimpressed, "I have a good mind to leave you behind, you know!"

"You wouldn't," I said, but the look in his eyes made me hesitate. "Would you?"

"Of course not," his face softened just a little. "But if you don't get a move on, I will sell everything you haven't packed yet."

"I have everything," I said quickly. "I just… got distracted."

"Are you sure?" he asked. For a moment, he sounded like our mother and sadness twisted in my stomach. "Because once we leave, everything you haven't got with you and everything that hasn't already been shipped over really will be sold."

There was a twinge of annoyance in my sadness now. He wasn't our mother, how dare he tell me off like her?

"I know," I said, fighting to keep my voice steady. He looked around at the things I was leaving. I saw his mild surprise that I was willing to part with so much. But most of the things here held little meaning for me anymore. Others have too much and would be too heavy to take with us.

"Alright," James's eyes misted over slightly. "Let's go then."

I picked up my bag and joined him in the doorway. I didn't look back, I didn't need to. That room had been mine since I was old enough to have one of my own. I knew it by heart, I didn't need to see it half empty.

Neither of us looked back at the house as we walked away from it, but I did take his hand. Or maybe he took mine. Or maybe we both reached for each other, looking for something to hold us in the present and keep us from looking back. I'd done that before, there were ghosts at those windows.

I don't think either of us spoke on the carriage ride to the docks. I don't remember. I just remember feeling like it didn't matter what had been shipped out ahead of me, or what I had in my bag or what I'd left behind in our old house. I had my brother. And that meant I'd be okay.

The Swanns were waiting for us at the docks. I didn't see them at first because of how busy it was. Everyone had something to do and somewhere to go. Rows of tall ships towered above me. I remembered hearing them creak and wondering if they'd snap in stormy weather. It seemed to me that they stretched up taller than the crowing gulls could fly, that if I climbed to the crow's nest I'd be able to reach up and grab a fistful of the heavens. Waves slapped against the hulls of the ships moored in the harbour in a rhythm that seemed to match my heartbeat. I liked this place.

"Which one is yours?" I asked.

"None of them are mine, Izzy, I am not a Captain. I am a Lieutenant." James corrected me. I sighed. I knew he was a Lieutenant. Everyone knew he was a Lieutenant because of the silly brown wig he wore under his Navy hat. He'd wear it even when he didn't necessarily need to, like when we were having breakfast just the two of us.

"Fine, which is the one we are taking?"

He pointed, "That one."

I tried to follow the line of his finger. And that's when I saw the Swanns. A golden haired girl in a light blue dress standing next to her father in his crimson red coat and an even sillier wig than James's. Now that I had spotted them, they stood out. Two out of place people with nothing to do in a crowd of hurried and busy sailors.

"Elizabeth!" I called, because she hadn't seen me yet. I let go of James's hand and ran down the docklands towards her. She smiled at me. Her eyes were slightly red, like she might have cried earlier that day. But now that we were both here I saw a gleam of excitement in her light brown eyes that gave me a jolt of my own. This was it. We were finally moving.

"Hello Isabelle," she greeted. I grinned, I couldn't help it. The best thing about this move was that I wouldn't have to leave my best friend behind.

"Ahh, Isabel! James!" Mr Swann called. "Good to see you!"

"Good day Mr Swann!" I smiled politely. I was never sure what to call him in those days, I knew he had been appointed as the Governor of Port Royal but I didn't know whether I had to start addressing him as such before or after we got there. He didn't correct me, just walked away from us to speak to James and Elizabeth and I slowly started to make our way up the gangplank, towards the deck of the ship.

"Can you believe we're finally going?" she asked.

"No," I said, truthfully. "I can't wait. Do you think we're sharing a cabin?"

"We are," she said. "I asked my father."

It was the best news either of us had ever received. We were so excited to spend the months-long journey together and giggled about escaping from the tedium of talking to her father and my brother. Neither of us realised that without the efforts of both of those men, our young friendship would have been cut short. Neither of us knew that it was James and Governor Swann who had decided that it was too much for us to lose each other after we'd already lost so much in the same fire. I think we both thought it was blind luck that we were relocating at the same time.

Elizabeth and I watched England shrink until what had once felt to us like the biggest place in the whole world was nothing but a tiny speck on a grey horizon. The sea felt huge, big enough even to dwarf the tall ship. It didn't take long for us to explore it and to find that so many places were out of bounds for us. Our cabin became a refuge for gossiping about people we'd left behind and long conversations about what our new life might be like when we got there. On deck, we had to make ourselves as small as possible and avoid getting under the feet of the men running the ship. We tried to talk to a few but James swiftly told us off for being a distraction. We watched the sailors at work, listened to their conversations and tried to guess at what they were doing from things we'd read about in books. I think, deep down, we nurtured the same growing interest in how ships ran but couldn't acknowledge it out loud. This was a world we were only meant to witness, never participate in.

It was a long time to be confined to a ship that we didn't have the freedom to roam. The days got warmer and I hoped that meant that we were getting close. Soon, it was uncomfortable to be out on deck when the sun was at its highest, so more and more we would venture outside later in the day.

There was one night that was exceptionally cold. There was a fog too, as dense and thick as any you might get in London. It felt, to me at least, that we were moving more slowly than usual. People were quieter, more alert. It made me nervous.

"Do you think they've spotted a pirate ship?" Elizabeth asked in a whisper as we tried to guess at what had everyone on edge.

"I hope not!" I shuddered. "It would be exciting to see one, one day. I just don't want to meet a whole ship full."

"Agreed," Elizabeth nodded, "Maybe we'll get to see a hanging in Port Royal."

Maybe," somehow, this didn't excite me as much as I thought it might have. We both looked out to sea.

"Do you remember that pirate song?" she asked. There was a glimmer in her eye.

"Yes!" I said. My heartbeat sped up. I felt giddy with the thrill of doing something I knew we'd get in trouble for if we got caught. We started to sing. Softly. Slowly. Then, as we grew more confident and nobody shouted for us to stop, we got louder. I felt a nervousness rise in my throat that made me want to laugh. "We pillage, we plunder, we rifle, we loot, drink up me hearties yo ho! Yo ho, yo ho a pirate's life for me! Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life-"

I felt a hand on my shoulder. My heart jumped into the back of my throat and stopped me from singing any more. I heard Elizabeth gasp and knew the same thing had happened to her. We whipped round. There was a tiny part of me that thought it might be a pirate, with a bloodthirsty smile and greedy, gleaming eyes. But it was only Mr. Gibbs, one of the older sailors on board. We had not found him to be particularly friendly so far, but he did have the best stories and was therefore the most fun to eavesdrop on.

"Quite!" He snarled, "Cursed pirates sail these waters, you don't want to bring them down on us now do you?"

My heart was still hammering in my chest so loudly I was sure that the cursed pirates Mr. Gibbs knew about would hear it and find us.

"That will do, Mr Gibbs!" James snapped in the same way he often scolded me when I did something wrong.

"But they were singin' about pirates," Gibbs protested. "Bad luck to sing about pirates with us mired in this unnatural fog… you mark my words."

It gave me chills to know that even an experienced sailor like Mr. Gibbs thought that the fog around us was unusual.

"Consider them marked." James said. "Now, be on your way."

"Aye," Gibbs left, muttering to himself. He did that a lot.

"Care to explain yourself Isabel?" James asked. I had mistakenly thought that because he was annoyed with Gibbs, he would forget to be annoyed with me.

"Well-" I broke off.

"It wasn't just her!" said Elizabeth, leaping to my defence. This was fairly common; if one of us was going to get in trouble, you'd have to take both of us down. "We both think it would be exciting to meet a pirate!"

"Well think again, Miss Swann. Vile, desolate creatures, the lot of them. I intend to see that every man who sails under a pirate flag gets what he deserves" James looked at us, "a short drop and a sudden stop."

He looked smugly out to sea. I couldn't decide whether it was because of what he had just said was supposed to be funny or because he knew we wouldn't understand. I looked to Elizabeth but she looked just as confused as I felt. When we looked around for further clues, Mr Gibbs mimed being hung, his necktie pulled up like a noose, his eyes bulging. My throat felt heavy and tight just thinking about it. I touched my neck.

"Lieutenant Norrington, I appreciate your fervour but I am concerned about the effect this subject may have upon my daughter." Mr Swann said, appearing on deck. He had been addressing him more formally while James was on-duty.

"Actually, I find it all fascinating," Elizabeth assured him.

"Yes, that is what concerns me," said her father. Elizabeth and I glanced at each other, apprehensive of what might come next. He fell into conversation with James. Sensing that we might have a chance to step away from this without too much scolding, Elizabeth and I moved closer to the rail.

"Look!" Elizabeth gasped, pointing into the dark waters. A parasol floated slowly past. I followed it as it got caught in the wake of the ship. .

"Where did that come from?" I wondered aloud but Elizabeth was no longer listening, she had spotted something else.

"Look! Look! There's a boy! There's a boy in the water!" she said with such shock and urgency that even James and Mr Swann stopped their conversation.James immediately began shouting orders to get the body out of the water. He was floating on a thick plank of wood but he didn't look to be moving. He was too far away to be able to tell whether or not he was breathing. I wondered if he had drowned already. I'd never seen a dead body before. The thought of it made me feel a bit queasy.

The crew managed to haul him out of the water and there was a small crowd around him until James announced that he was still breathing. There was a sudden commotion among the crew, who were all crowded around the starboard side.There was a strange light beyond the rail, it turned the fog slightly orange. I heard Mr. Gibbs say, "Mary Mother of God," and we ran to join them. In the water floated the burning wreck of a ship.

"What happened here?" Governor Swann asked. The shake in his voice captured the fear on board.

"Most likely the powder magazine," James said. He sounded calm and that made me feel better. "Merchant vessels run heavily armed."

"Aye, a lot of good it did them," muttered Gibbs sarcastically, "Everyone's thinkin' it, I'm just sayin' it. Pirates!"

"There's no proof of that!" Governor Swann said, quickly. "It was probably an accident."

The flaming mast crumbled and fell, still burning, into the sea below. Had all of this devastation really been an accident? Had the flames engulfed the ship before anyone on board could act? Or was Mr. Gibbs right?

"Rouse the Captain immediately," James commanded. I wondered if the same fears were running through his head. "Heave to and take in sail, launch the boats."

Mr Swann called us both over.

"I want you both to accompany the boy. He will be in your charge," he said. "Take care of him."

He said it to keep us busy. We knew, as children often do, that we were being distracted from the frantic search for survivors that James was now conducting. I looked at the boy lying on deck and wondered if he had been on that ship, if he had family on board. I hoped James would find them. The boy's dark, wet hair plastered his face. Elizabeth knelt down beside him and I followed suit. She slowly reached out a hand and brushed it from his face. He was so pale, so still. And then he wasn't. With a loud, rasping gasp his eyes shot open and he sat up, grabbing her arm. His eyes were wide and wild.

"It's alright." Elizabeth told him as we recovered from the shock of his revival. "My name is Elizabeth Swann. This is my friend, Isabelle Norrington."

I wanted to say hello but I was still too shocked. So I smiled and hoped that I looked friendly enough to ease the fear of waking up in a strange place.

"William Turner," the boy panted heavily.

"We're watching over you Will." Elizabeth said as William sank down into unconsciousness again.

"Look," I whispered pointing at a chain the boy wore around his neck and on the chain hung a pirate medallion.

"He is a pirate!" Elizabeth whispered. She reached out and picked it up, holding it above his chest.

"If James finds out," I said. "He might hang him."

"But he'd just a boy," Elizabth said. "He doesn't look any older than we are."

"I don't think that matters," I said. "You heard him earlier."

She nodded, hesitated and then gently pulled the chain off his neck. I leant in to get a closer look. The skull in the centre of it looked back at me with empty eyes.

"Has he said anything?" James's voice made me jump. We turned to face him. Elizabeth hid her hands behind her back.

"His name is William Turner. That is all we have found out," she said.

"Very good," said James. "Take him below."

Sailors bustled past us and scooped up William's limp body from the deck. Elizabeth's fist was still closed around the medallion we had stolen. She looked at me. Her eyes were wide, her face paler than usual. "What do we do?" she whispered.

I put a hand on her shoulder and lead her over to the rail, out of earshot of any adults who might be listening. It was probably a precaution I didn't need to take, there were far too many other things to worry about than what two twelve year old girls were whispering about. But our secret felt big, heavy. I knew that even a glimpse of a pirate medallion would send an already tense crew over the edge.

"Let's see it again," I said. I didn't really need to, I think the image of a gold skull surrounded by symbols I didn't understand was burned into my mind. But there was a small, strong part of me that craved the thrill of seeing it again. Elizabeth opened up her fist. It glinted in her palm, still smiling at us. "Do you think he really is a pirate?"

"Maybe," Elizabeth said. "Or maybe he came from that merchant vessel."

"We should hide it," I decided. "We can't let James or your father see it."

"Should we give it back to him?" she said. "To William, I mean."

"Maybe," I said but the thought made me uneasy. The fewer people who know something, the easier it is to keep a secret.

"What do you think will happen to him, when he's better?"

"They might find his parents in that wreck," I said.

"And if they don't?"

I shrugged. "He'll come back with us. Maybe they'll find someone who can take him in."

Elizabeth nodded. "Do you think he can stop being a pirate?"

The question sent chills through me. Were you born evil or did you turn to it? When he regained full health, would William run us all through to steal anything of value on board? Or would we be able to rescue him from a life of sin and piracy?

"We should keep the medallion," I said. "Away from him, away from everyone. Then maybe he'll forget."

Elizabeth nodded and closed her fist again. We both looked up, the weight of such a big decision lifting off us. It lasted for the briefest of seconds. The fog was thicker than ever before and sailing away from us was a ship. She flew no colours, unless you count black as a colour. The entire ship was inky black, blacker even than the night sky, which looked grey in comparison. The sails were ragged and torn, with huge holes in them. I wondered how on earth it could sail properly.

"Did we do that?" whispered Elizabeth, voicing what I was thinking.

"The song…" I said, as Gibbs's words echoed in my head. Had we brought cursed pirates down on us… or on someone else? The sound of the burning merchant vessel crackled behind us. Was it our fault?

We watched the black ship move further away and told no one. It was heading away from us, I think we both worried that if we drew any attention to it, it would turn around a fire on us. We didn't want to end up like the burning merchant ship. Soon, it had melted into the darkness. The fog wrapped around it like a guard and hid it from view.

Jame declared that William was the sole survivor of the merchant ship. Elizabeth and I did not believe it but we said nothing. When William was strong enough to sit up and tell his story, he confirmed what James thought; he was from the merchant ship. It had been attacked by a pirate ship they hadn't seen coming. He didn't remember much, had probably become unconscious early on. Elizabeth and I weren't sure whether or not to believe him. If he had been on the merchant vessel, how had he ended up with pirate treasure around his neck? It would be years before any of us knew the truth.