Chapter X

In the Mouth of the Beast

Bree scurried into the captain's cabin, her chest heaving as Jimmylegs slammed the door behind her. Bree looked around, confused and unsure of what to expect. Jones stood in the corner, sharpening his sword. Bree watched him, listening to the sound of the blade on the whetting stone. It made her uncomfortable.

At last, Jones turned, sheathing his weapon. Bree came to attention, eyes front. Jones nodded to her, speaking, "Ye're to come with me on an important errand."

Bree opened her mouth to say something but Jones stopped her, "No, don't speak. I chose ye because ye're the only one I can trust with a broadsword. The others would just slice their own guts out."

Bree nodded, asking, "Where are we goin'?"

Jones opened the door to his cabin, striding out on deck. Bree followed him, checking to see if her own sword was in place. Jones said a few whispered words to Maccus, and then turned to Bree. He gestured to the side, "Go."

Bree was confused. Then Jones hauled her up by her collar and flung her over the side. Bree, too startled to call out, hit the water hard. But she immediately tried to swim up, only to find herself sinking to the bottom. She started to panic until she remembered that she didn't have to breath.

Bree touched down on the sandy seabed, looking up. She saw a splash and saw someone else sinking down. Jones.

Bree watched as her captain landed beside her. His beard of tentacles was flailing about on his shoulders. Bree's hair was doing the same thing, and it took her a while to get it out of her face.

Jones beckoned Bree forward, and the girl obeyed. Jones began speaking, and once again Bree could hear the garbled speech, "When I give ye the signal, I want ye to strike at the first thing ye see."

This was an odd order, but Bree nodded. She checked her sword again, and then set off following Jones. They both walked along the sea bed for about ten minutes before Bree felt a vibration. She looked up. The Dutchman was sending off waves in the water. Bree hadn't seen that before.

As Bree walked along she was wondering why she didn't simply turn around and sneak away. I'd be caught, Bree guessed. After all, Jones seemed to sense every movement she made.

Bree turned her attention back to the present. Jones had stopped. He stood still, hand on sword hilt, waiting. Bree stood waiting too, but for what, she didn't know.

Then Bree saw it. A huge, foggy shape emerged through the water, coming towards them. Fear filled Bree's mouth with its foul taste. She tried to swallow but couldn't. She looked to Jones, who simply stood there.

The thing came closer. And closer. Bree could see what it was.

The Kraken!

All Bree's terror came back. She wanted to scream, but her mouth wouldn't move. Her fins were sticking straight out, like fur on a startled cat's back.

Jones drew his sword, and Bree automatically drew hers as well. She waited, terror making her dizzy as the Kraken drew nearer. It at last reached them. It seemed to land, and Bree could see it's huge head and eyes. Bree felt cold, prickly horror go up her spine. The thing's head was only a yard away from Jones! And yet her captain never even flinched.

The Kraken revealed its monstrous mouth, teeth curved and jagged. Then, it snapped forward!

Jones dodged to the side, and then, to Bree's utter horror, he charged straight into the monster's mouth!

"Bree! Now!"

Bree ran forward, slashing away at huge tentacles, striking anything that came close enough. Anyone watching would have thought she was totally fearless, but that wasn't the case. Bree had never been more frightened in her entire life! But the adrenaline was rushing through her body and she hacked and stabbed madly, blood fouling the water in red clouds. One particularly hard slash severed the end of a tentacle.

The falling tentacle hit Bree, knocking her down. She flipped over, looking up. Her mouth dropped open. Jones was standing in the monster's mouth, feet spread out between the rows of teeth. His claw was holding the beast's jaws back from snapping him in two, and his sword was plunged up to the hilt in the roof of the Kraken's mouth. With a roar, Jones pulled his blade free and leaped away, far more nimbly than Bree thought possible with only one leg.

Bree tried to rise, only to be knocked flat again by a flailing tentacle. Jones ran to her, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her out of the way. They ran until they were out of danger from the beast's death throes.

Bree turned, watching as the Kraken thrashed about in the water, blood spurting from its mouth. It at last crashed to the side, twitching and sending up huge waves that rocked the Dutchman above them. Bree would have been panting, but underwater she couldn't. Her heart was hammering in her ears, and the water made it a dull sound.

Bree felt Jones take her arm and wrap his other arm around her waist. Then Bree felt herself lifting. She may not be able to swim anymore, but Jones could.

After the two had been hauled back aboard, Bree sat huddled up on a coil of rope, still recovering from what had just happened. Her first encounter with the Kraken had frightened her badly. This one had terrified her.

Bree looked up to see Jones standing over her. She didn't acknowledge him, so he spoke first, "Bree…ye did alright down there."

Bree was still shivering, only nodding slightly. Then Jones, so as not to seem impressed, said, "At least ye didn't faint." He turned, going back to his more important duties.

Bree shuddered, her ears pounding from the pressure of the water and the reverberating roar of the dying Kraken. She was too tired and frightened to be confused. Why had Jones killed his own beast?

Jones sat in his cabin, head in claws. What have I done?

If only he hadn't let Jack off that easily when his debt had to be paid! If only he hadn't carved his own heart out centuries ago! If only he hadn't met her!

There was no point in going through all the if only's. The Kraken was dead. And by its master's hand, too. Jones was sure of it now. Someone had his heart and was using it. And the first name that came to mind was that cursed name that tasted like a poison on his tongue.

Jack Sparrow!

Penrod hated Bree. He hated everything about her. Perhaps it was the fact that she was bigger than him. Or perhaps it was the fact that she was a better worker. Or perhaps it was the fact that she was gaining more of the captain's attention. Penrod had wheedled and whined and sucked up to Jones, and even though Jones despised the little cabin boy, he didn't completely ignore him.

Now Bree had taken the place of favorite young one. Not that Bree was pampered, in fact she was treated as harshly as ever, but everyone knew that Jones respected her. And the crew had started to become fond of the girl as well.

Penrod was always the bully. He enjoyed tormenting the girl and making her life more miserable, if that was possible. And today was no exception.

Bree was carving a small figurine from a block of old driftwood. However, her peaceful moment was interrupted as Penrod began bullying her. He knocked the figurine from her hands and started snitching at her with his antennae. Bree took it all in stony silence.

Penrod went too far. He began insulting Bree's old ship, the Goresail, calling the captain a coward and the crew sniveling. Bree unfolded herself from the corner, standing up. She was a head taller than Penrod. She stepped up and spoke in a dangerously low voice, almost sounding like Jones when he was angry, "D'ye wish to take any o' that back, mate?"

Penrod was a little too confident, and went on, "Why should I when it's all true? Yer captain was a pansy an' yer crewmates were frogs!"

Penrod blanched as Bree's hackles rose. Her teeth were bared and her eyes were blazing with hatred. Her muscles tensed and she stepped forward, ready to fight. Penrod thought it wise to leave now. But it was too late.

With a vicious snarl, Bree sprang forward, throttling Penrod and punching at his eyes. The noise alerted the other crewmembers. They all came hurrying down, but only stopped to watch. Poor Penrod was taking a brutal beating from Bree.

Bree at last slammed Penrod's head into the side of the wall and let go. He slid to the floor, unconscious. Bree turned to the others, her warrior blood up and her eyes blazing so fiercely that the crew all stepped back, the same fear they had for the captain in their eyes as they looked on her. When she was angry, she grew wild.

Bree growled, calling out, "Anyone else want some?"

Bree turned to Clanker, but he backed away. She snarled at Jimmylegs, who also backed away. She growled at Crash, who followed his mates' examples.

Bree stamped her foot down, spitting scornfully, "Cowards, that's what ye are! Cowards!"

Bootstrap knew his friend was a true warrior, but her temper was out of control. He pushed through to her, but she stopped him, "No, Bootstrap! Don't try to stop me! It's time to show everyone what happens to a bully!"

Bootstrap grabbed Bree and pinned her arms to her sides, hissing into her ear, "Penrod's learned 'is lesson, mate! There's no need for it!"

Bree struggled but Bootstrap simply lifted her as she flailed her arms and legs in the air, letting her anger burn out.

Bree continued to growl but went still. Bootstrap let her go and she hauled Penrod up, pushing him toward the others, "If 'e ever wakes up, tell 'im I could 'ave plucked 'is pretty whiskers off one by one!"

Jones emerged from his cabin right as Oldhaddy hauled Penrod up to the deck. Jones could see the shrimpy cabin boy was badly beaten up. He called out harshly, "What happened to 'im?"

Oldhaddy pressed a knuckle to his forehead and answered, "Miss Bree, sir. She gave 'im a proper beatin'."

Jones had to bite back a grin. Bree certainly could fight. It didn't pay to get on her bad side. He strode forward and kicked Penrod viciously, rousing him. The little bully cringed away from his captain, but all Jones said was, "Next time I catch ye causin' trouble, I'll string ye up by yer legs!"

Penrod winced as Oldhaddy grabbed him by his shell and hauled him upright, but the captain was already walking away, back to his cabin. Penrod and Oldhaddy looked at one another, a little confused. Then the older pirate pushed Penrod back down the hold, mumbling threats and curses.

Bree passed the two on the way to the deck, and Penrod cringed away from her, but Bree didn't even glance at him. She went to the bow, arms crossed. She had to get out of here! She just had to!

Before she didn't want to!