The Voyages of the Dawn Chaser Water of Life

by Peladon

What Jack Sparrow did now. Having found himself an ally with a ship Jack seeks Mr Gibbs and then goes in search of Aqua de Vida, with the Navy and others on his tail. Meanwhile Barbossa tried to find Jack, and his way back to himself with little success.

39. Chapter 39

Chapter 39 Close calls

'It's a good thing I'm a pirate, and a legend to boot,' Jack told himself, 'had I not been, had I been a sailor of his majesty's navy for example, then I might not have made it at all.'

But he was a pirate, and a legend, and he had made it up the folded stem of rock to the edge of the road leading out across the water, out to that mast of rock. Body protesting all the way it was true, and with the fire set to consume him by the time he made the top, but he had made it.

Yet now he was there, where he had wanted to be, he was standing hesitant and uncertain, easing the damp shirt from his protesting skin and narrowing his eyes against the darkness, wondering if this was a fools' errand after all. He sighed quietly thinking of rum, knowing that this was not a course to be followed as sober as he was, nor in cold blood.

The roadway was smooth, and wider than it had looked from the ground, wide enough for near on six men to walk abreast, but there were no handrails and the span across the waters was longer than it had seemed when he first suggested this course. Too long for him to see what waited at the other end in this dim light. These lanterns of hers spewed light far further than any he had ever used before but even they were not enough, and the road disappeared into shadow well before it reached its destination. Buried in those shadows was a darker one, a rising spar of featureless darkness that seemed to tower over the waters now they were looking into its' mouth.

Jack drew a deep breath and took one deliberate step out onto the bridge, letting the same breath out in a gust when the rock didn't crumble to nothing beneath his boots.
"Seems solid enough, here at least," he said, and was glad his voice sounded to unconcerned.
A timely reminder, if one were needed, that he was getting far too good at lying to himself.

Behind him Elanor simply grunted her assent. He heard the scrape of leather on stone as she left the shadows, and the strange interest she had shown in the wall behind them, and came and stood at his back.
"For the moment, though I'd not take bets on what its' got in mind," she muttered
Jack cast her an uneasy look over his shoulder,
"You still think that this place does...? Think I mean?"
She shrugged and turned away as he shone his lantern towards her, but still he saw her frown,
"I don't know," she said, "but I'm not at all convinced that what that happens here is random."
Jack thought about that for a moment then nodded, smiling slightly,
"Let's hope it has no evil intent then, for it would seem that we are on our own."
That brought a sigh from her and another nod,
"So it would seem," she had tried to reach Ariadne once they had scaled the height of the walkway but there had been no reply that they could hear.

Jack turned his lantern back towards the rock tower,
"We go on then?"
He got no reply and when turned to demand one he saw that she was down on hands and knees, lantern at her side, inspecting the surface of this hanging roadway
"What are you doing?" he demanded in astonishment. "This is hardly the time to get housewifely on me, the place might well need sweeping but I don't see a broom to hand!"
That sally bought him a swift and withering look before she turned her attention back to the stones. After a moment of frustration Jack joined her, crouching down to inspect what she was inspecting despite the feeling that stretching his skin in such a manner would break it.

She said nothing as he came closer but continued her scrutiny of the roadway.
"So tell me what are we looking at? If not the dust of aons?" he said with weary resignation.
Elanor reached out a hesitant hand and brushed the surface with a gentle finger, then inspected it carefully in the lantern light,
"I don't think this is natural."
Jack shot her a sideways look,
"Whole place is unnatural, why should this be different?"
"I mean that I think it was put here deliberately, that this isn't natural rock." She rubbed at the surface again then looked intently at her fingertips, "not melted like the stuff on the beach, not glass or heat changed. Some form of resin I think, looks like rock, maybe based on rock, but not rock. It's certainly different to the rock down there."
She nodded down and towards the tongue of rock jutting out onto the grey sand beneath them before turning her attention back to the walkway.

Jack, however, was more interested in something else he had seen in the lantern light, and with a rapid grab he reached out and caught at her wrist.

Elanor met his narrowed eyes with a steady look but did not pull away, not even as he pushed her sleeve up. In the bright, white, light of the lantern the red marks were clearly visible on her pale skin. Jack sighed through a clenched jaw,
"It got you too then?" he muttered.
"Seems so."
He inspected the marks, far fainter and fewer than his own, probing with gentle fingers, noting that her skin still lacked the heat of his.
"Why so much slower?" he said eventually, but still not releasing her arm.
"I didn't go in as far as you did, and I wasn't in for so long. I kept my boots on too so only my hands got really wet. Maybe that's why, or maybe it's the fact that I've been changed already."
He pushed her arm away from him with a movement that was almost savage, then surged to his feet and took two angry paces back from her,
"You shouldn't have come after me!" he said, though it was not clear if his tone was mockery or regret.
That brought a shrug, and she turned her eyes back to the stone,
"Easy to be wise after the fact. I didn't know anymore about it than you did."

He wheeled and flicked an accusing hand in her direction,
"You knew it was dangerous!"
She didn't look at him as she replied and her voice was carefully neutral,
"Suspected Jack, not knew."
"And if you had known? Would you have come anyway?"
She sighed and sat back on her heels, looking up at him now, her face grave in the bright light of the lantern,
"I don't know. Maybe it would have made me even if I hadn't wanted to. I don't know what's going on here, I've already told you that."
Jack smiled a dangerous and bitter-eyed smile.
"Not you," he said softly, "you're like your bloody ancestor." His tone became savage, "Noble!"
There was challenge in his face and a hint of something that might have been mockery. Elanor just tutted slightly, then sighed again,
"As you never are of course."

She cursed herself for her stupidity as she saw the stiffening in his shoulders and the shutters closing down across his eyes. Wearily she wiped her hand across her own, sore, eyes, and tried to deflect him,
"We don't know that your commodore was my ancestor."
Her laboured patience was itself a mock and it had the desired effect for the shutters snapped up again and he gave a sharp 'ha' as he raised an eyebrow and pointed at her,
"I'd say that we do. You even sound like him at times."
"Well.......maybe that's just guilt on your part?" she smiled, the expression, sweet and false, sitting strangely on that perfect face.
Jack dropped his hands to his hips and struck a pose, chest out and shoulders back, staring down his nose at her,
"Guilt! What have I got to feel guilty about? Eh? Certainly with regards to said commodore?"
He waved an emphatic hand in her direction,
"I didn't make him sail through a hurricane and lose his ship. I didn't make him resign his commission and slink off to wallow in self pity in the pit of Tortuga. I didn't even make him betray his friends and his unrequited beloved and flee back to comfortable dishonour with Beckett! I'm totally innocent of his downfall luv, whichever way you slice it."
Elanor watched him in the lantern light for a moment then shook her head,
"True enough I suppose," was all she said.

His sudden energy seemed to fail him, and he looked suddenly sad,
"But I did bring you here, can't deny that. Truth be told I thought it would be easier than it is, but that can't be mended. Seems that it will kill the both of us."
She shook her head and got to her feet.
"I came of my own choice Jack, you couldn't have made me come. Nothing and none here could make me do what I didn't choose to and you know it. Don't claim more guilt than is really yours, it's not becoming, even in a pirate. I made my choice and I'm not looking to blame you for anything."
He leaned away from her and the lantern, his face suddenly in shadow,
"Commodores spawn indeed," he said softly, "Do you know what a terrible woman you are I wonder?"
"Terrible?"
"Aye, terrible, and that word I'm not allowed to use on pain of death."
Elanor was silent for a moment trying to see past the shadows to his expression, but she couldn't and there was no flash of gold to betray a smile. Without warning he had reached out and caught at her arm again, and she stared down at the red veined fingers gripping hers for a moment before looking up. His eyes were sombre and all expression was washed from his face, this blank and guarded expression was rare but when he used it there was as much chance of seeing through it as there was of seeing through liquid chocolate,
"Yet you came here for me?" there was a hint of something treacherously close to hope in his voice, and she wondered what was going on behind that flat dark stare.

But she could not allow this fey mood to grip him while they were still in so much danger,
"My world is a long way from yours Jack, and some of us there still believe we have free choice. I don't blame anyone for what I chose to do freely."
He let her go then and the shuttered look faded a little, replaced instead by a softly speculative, and slightly sad, stare
"World of novelty it must be then, for that's a rare state of affairs in any world I've ever seen," he replied quietly, "but it changes nothing, it will claim you too."
"I know. Unless we find a way to avoid it."
"Think there is one to find do you?"
"I don't know but we have to go on as if we do."
Jack turned his head, looking back towards the deeper shadows between them and the rock spire,
"To there then?"
"To there," she agreed.

****

"So tell me gentlemen, why be ye searching so assiduously for Jack Sparra?"

Hathaway cursed silently as he looked towards the bulky and looming shadow, for he had no doubts that this was the landlord Sampson and that they were nere seconds away from death. The certainty that he had pushed a tale too far had come upon him while they were listing to that last story, for it had seemed far too good to be true that they should learn so much so easily. He had been right to think so it would seem. He saw Groves face, pale and strained, reflected in the flame of the torch, and cursed himself again, knowing only too well that he had given too much weight to the love of a story so obvious in the occupants of Tortuga and too little to their likely suspicion of new comers. Now it seemed that both of them would pay for that error unless he could find a way to defuse that same suspicion. His only hope lay in that he had played this game before and for similar stakes, and not for the first time he hoped that Groves would follow his lead or stay quiet.

Hathaway spread his hands and leant forward, shoulders hunched, trying to project as much defencelessness into his posture as he could,
"Not to do him any harm sir," he said submissively, "merely so that I might carry to him a message from my employers, and one that he might well find to his advantage. I was instructed that it was for his ears only and that I should not let anyone know that I sought him least they discover our business."
Sampson flexed his shoulders but did not come closer, nor did he order his men to close on them,
"Message you say, from your employers? What employers might these be that they have business with Jack Sparra?"
"Merchants sir. Wealthy men with interests to protect. Men who have heard that the East India Company is making a bid for these waters and are not pleased by the thought."
Sampson stiffened slightly for a moment then relaxed, and as he did so Hathaway thought he felt a slight lessening of the tension in the men around them.
"Why would you masters bother about the Company then? Where lie their interests?" Sampson growled. His stance was unfriendly but at least he was listening not killing.
"My masters sail out of the new colonies sir and would not care to be required to pay taxes to the Company as well as the crown." Hathaway looked up to the shadows where he thought Sampson's eyes would be, "The Company is known to be a rapacious beast sir, never satisfied. My masters are free men and do not care to be forced to trade for the Company's profit."

There was a short silence, the only sound the wind fanning the flame of the torch, and then Sampson spoke slowly, grudgingly,
"I can see that they might not. Why would that involve business with Jack Sparra?"
Hathaway shrugged,
"My masters have heard stories that Jack Sparrow defeated the Company's fleet and that he has some leverage over them."
The man in the shadow of the flare stretched his neck and shifted his stance, his shoulders broadening, suddenly threatening again,
"Then if the Company is driven away why are you sent here?" he snarled.
The men around them shifted too and Hathaway tried to choke down a sense of panic, knowing if he played it wrong now they were certainly dead.
"My masters do not know if the stories are true sir. But if Sparrow has some influence then they would ask him to use it on their behalf, and they would pay him well for the doing of it."
"Ask a pirate!" Sampson laughed, "Jack Sparra is a pirate, and you tell me they would trade with him? All they would want of Sparra is his neck stretched by a rope!"
Hathaway spread his hands in acceptance,
"Once maybe that were true sir. But these are changing times. If the Company comes, then it will not be just their depredations my masters must labour under. Nor those of pirates, Jack Sparrow or any other. Spanish privateers will come too, to prey upon anything that sails under an English flag, and that will mean the navy will patrol more freely. In such a world men like my masters, men of enterprise, might find their freedoms disagreeably curtailed. If you take my meaning."

Sampson seemed to stare at them for a moment, when he spoke the threat had retreated slightly again,
"Aye I suppose I do. Merchants be unchristianly greedy people to my way of thinking. But why should I believe that your masters would trade with Jack Sparra? Why would I believe such men would trade with a pirate?"
Hathaway knew this was the sticking point and with fading hope he reached for a wild card and prayed that his reading of the situation was true. He looked sideways at the landlord,
"My masters have dealings with the burghers of Nassau, and other such places too, and they know of Sparrow and his doing from them. They are of the opinion that if Sparrow gives his word then he keeps it, provided he is dealt with fairly and is suitably rewarded."

The landlord seemed to think about that for a long moment, then he came closer, the man with the flare following him. Two arms length away he stopped and peered closely at them for a moment,
"Sparra is not here, but should he return I will pass on your message. But you gentlemen will be gone from this town by sunrise,"
He nodded once and sharp steel was suddenly at both Groves and Hathaway's neck.
Sampson turned away and retreated up the alley, speaking over his shoulder as he went,
"If you are not gone, I will know, and you will be dead within the hour of me knowing it."

He jerked his head and hard steel pressed deeper on soft necks then was drawn away leaving a ribbon of blood in its passing. As Sampson and his light disappeared from view Hathaway and Groves were sent sprawling to alley floor, and by the time they got to their knees they were alone.

***

Calypso felt the shifting of it, the sudden hunger and hope. Then came the stirring of the things that had become since the parting, though the sense of them was faint for they did not form a part of her world. Yet the power of them was also considerable, and it carried to her like the hint of smoke on the early evening breeze, unformed but present for those with the senses to feel it. Only through that did she know that Jack and the Lady's captain at arrived at the edge of it, only through the eddies of that smoke did she know they were in danger.

Calypso frowned, the purpose of this place did not make for safety but the old ones actions were never malign, all she could hope for now was that enough of their influence remained to keep these fragile humans safe. But the old ones had been gone a long time and many things may have changed, and much that hadn't been then had come to be since. The Lady could only assist so far here, and they must both hope that it would be enough, for they must rely upon it, that and the courage and wiliness of the players she had chosen.

The sea goddess wondered again what purpose the Lady was about. For, though she saw the shadow of it, little more than the bare outline was clear to her. Out at sea in the lady captain's ship she could feel another force that she could not fathom, one whose every shape was alien and impenetrable, but who seemed stirred to unusual anxiety. There would be no help from the ghost either it seemed.

Spreading herself into the surf that crept nervously up the sands she edged closer to Gibbs, now dozing in the shade. He seemed unaware of any danger to his companions, lost in dreams, caught up in images that seeped up from the rocks below, his mind no doubt wandered places far from this isolated place. With a sigh she retreated back into the waters to watch and wait.

***

Gibbs was indeed dreaming, his mind back in the locker, back in the nightmare he would not admit, that he was still there, that were all still there, trapped forever by Davy Jones.

Until he had stepped into Tia Dalma's shack that day he had thought he had known what the world was. True he had heard Jack's stories of undead sailors and not found them strange, for he knew the seas were a wild and strange place and that creatures not spoken of by the preachers still lurked in places that few men went. When Barbossa, dead mor'n a year, strolled down those stairs he had been shocked, as had they all, but the sharpness of his grief for Jack had kept him from wondering about the greater meaning of that appearance.

He had not trusted Tia Dalma, but then he had always feared her and marvelled at Jack's ease where she was concerned, but he had not wondered on who and what she was that she could bring back the man who had died in the caves at Isle de Muerta. His one fear had been that Barbossa would prevent them reaching Jack and once that fear was eased he had given the matter little more thought.

Other, smaller, things had occupied his mind in the days immediately afterwards as they salved their injuries and planned their course. Will's strange behaviour occupied him most, the boy's anger at Jack, and the sudden obsession with his father, was nigh inexplicable to one who despised a mutineer.

He had tried to explain to Will that Jack had been between a rock and a very devil, for had he not seen Jones, and had he not heard how the fiend spoke of Jack? He had tried to explain that it had never been Jack's intention to abandon Will, that he had been sorely hurt by that deal with Jones, a deal that Jack had believed he could undo when he found the heart, but the boy would not listen. No, Will had been strange about that, and his distance from Miss Elizabeth was as odd, though it had been some days before that observation had made it past his own sense of loss. It had been mightily puzzling even to his sorrowing mind, for though Will was a mite simple and priggish in his judgements it were only his youth that were his fault and he was not unkind. Why then could the boy forgive the abandonment and betrayals of his father yet could not do the same for Jack? When Jack has not been a mutineer and his need had been far more pressing than ever Bootstrap's had been. This had puzzled him mightily for Will had known Jack to be both pirate and good man and had seen Jack risk all for others. Was not the proof of it standing there all chilly pride and tragic eyes? Why then could he not accept that Jack had not meant him deliberate harm?

Only later, when he had overheard her words to Jack, had he remembered Will's hesitation at the long boat and realised that Will might well have see her leave taking and misread it. Then he understood why Will could not forgive Jack.

Her avoidance of them all had been something else that had kept him from thinking about the strangeness the world had taken on. Yet even that had not seemed so strange then, for in his own grief he had assumed that hers was like to be greater still. For had not Jack had been her girlhood hero? With him gone so was some part of her past. Harsh it would be to see him die in such a way, and when she was bereft of her father too, or so he had thought. He had learned differently on the locker shore of course. But at that time, as they laid their plans to sail to Singapore, his heart had spared a thought or two for a young lass deprived of her past and future and cast adrift in a world she had not been raised for. He'd been angered by it later, that he had spared sorrow on her. But then he had thought her honest in her grief and different than her class in her love of Will, even though he had known that bondsmen laboured in her fathers house and that she would have stood by and watched Jack hang.

No, there had been much else to occupy his mind then other than the enormity of death turned to life. Like many he had heard of the green flash and the souls returning, aye and seen it once, though he had not met the soul returned, but he had never given any thought to the mechanism of it as you might say, nor what it meant for the reality of the world he thought he knew. Only as they toppled over the edge of that world had he wondered about what was real and certain if life and death could be exchanged in this way.

Yet he had wanted it to be so, for only then could they fetch Jack back. Seein' the Pearl come sailin' home to the seas as she did, Jack back where he belonged at her mast, had filled his heart with gratitude. Yet those first words had killed the drops of hope, for he knew Jack the captain as well as he knew Jack the joker, and that was better than most, and knew too that his ships were run as tightly as any, if with a little more compassion than most. But this man was none of those Jacks knew, and as they sailed out on the sea's of the dead he had wondered what manner of wounded creature they were dragging back to the hard light of livin'.

Now as he walked the sands of the locker shore again in his dreams he wondered if they had returned at all, or if all since had been a dream. If that were so then who was this lady who sailed alone, this lady who reminded him of someone that he couldn't quite put a name to? If he awoke again would it be she who walked the decks or Elizabeth? Was Will gone to the world beyond or was he not?

Gibbs shifted in his sleep and wondered which Jack they had brought back, and why his return had been allowed at all.

***

One hundred feet across the cause way the change in the air began. It started as a strange illusive smell rising up from the green waters below them and setting the air shimmering in the lantern light. One hundred feet further on and the smell was acrid in their nostrils and caught with razor nails at the back of their throats, and now the air seemed misty and faint wraiths danced on the edges of their vision. They exchanged looks but said nothing and just quickened their pace.

Another hundred feet and they realised that the spire of rock looked to be no closer, but that the air seemed thin and weak, while the stench was much stronger, its' tendrils reaching into their lungs to scrape the surface with ice and fire. One hundred feet further and they were catching at their chests in the effort of breathing and below them the lake seemed even darker, but now it was not so smooth. Jack swung his lantern over the edge and thought he saw a flash of silver dart away.

Fifty feet more they struggled, the red wheals on their skins burning hotter than ever but the spire seemed just a little closer. Now they were hanging on to each other for support, racked by coughing with eyes and throats on fire as the misty air seemed to wheel and dance around them. Below the waters were stirring, the movement visible even in the shadow. Their pace had slowed to a crawl but some inner prompting kept them moving even as thought seemed to desert them. In front of them the rock spire beckoned even as the chances of reaching it declined.

Then came the sound, a faint whooshing that they both first thought to be their own blood in their ears. But as it got louder they realised it was coming from above, and they halted their painful creep and shone the lanterns upwards, not really wanting to see what new obstacle was being put before them but knowing that it would be better not to be caught unawares.

The nature of the approaching creatures were unknown to either of them for they were eagle beaked and swan necked, four feet long and carried on scaly bat wings, the colours dark yet iridescent, blues and purples and greens. They came without hurry, ten or maybe more of them, heads swaying side to side, the slow beat of their wings only stirring the misty air a little. There was no way of judging what the target was but Jack wasn't taking the risk, and with a muttered curse he fixed his lantern to his belt, drew his sword and pistol and dared them to come on. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Elanor clear the line of her taser and pull a long knife from her boot, the sight of it stirred a smile and a sudden gladness that he hadn't come here alone.

As the creatures came closer the sounds of movement within the lake became louder, the surface of it thrashing and splashing as if something large was stirring. The flying ones were close now, necks reaching and red nostrils flaring as if they were scenting prey. Then the pack spilt, half going one side, half the other, yet they were synchronised as they made the first pass, the draught of their passing setting Jack's hair bead's shivering and whipping at Elanor's shirt sleeves.

Below them the turmoil in the lake grew louder as the winged creatures turned lazily and came back towards them. Jack and Elanor exchanged a glance and began to back towards the rock spire as quickly as they could move, though the churning of the lake had thinned the air still further and catching their breath was now an effort. Jack tightened his grip on his sword and raised his pistol sighting carefully along the barrel, cocking it as he did so,
"Be careful Jack!" Elanor gasped, "Not a good idea to enrage them unless we have to."
"I know that," he answered shortly but he didn't lower the pistol.

Then suddenly they were not alone in their danger, below them the waters boiled more loudly and a flash of silvered blue leapt across the causeway snatching one of the winged creatures from the air and dragging it back into the cold waters below. Elanor and Jack exchanged a startled look, then Jack yelled,
"Down," and they both hit the floor as three more of the creatures made the leap across the bridge.
Jack's pistol discharged and one of them fell onto the causeway, where it thrashed for a second or two before slipping back into the green whirlpool below. It had been still long enough to see wide and strong jaws, rows of serried teeth and a tassel of powerful tails.

Now there were more of them leaping, and another of the flying creatures had disappeared below the water, but its companions were going on the attack now, increasing height they began to dive down towards the causeway as the leaping creatures came. Beneath their bodies talons shone like steel in the lanterns and small flight scales were deployed along the their wing edges, allowing them to shift direction and speed quickly. Two of the lake creatures were caught and speared and borne away, and three more of the flying creatures appeared from the shadows to take the place of the ones departing or lost. Jack lay on his back and watched them wheeling above, following the dart and turn as they attacked, the slow, easy flight away when they had what they wanted. As he watched them he remembered another killing field and smiled to himself.

It seemed the two creatures were more interested in each other than the man and woman sprawled on the bridge, and both Jack and Elanor knew that this might be their best, or only, chance. Scrambling to their feet they crouched low and began to run as fast as their labouring bodies would allow towards the rock that waited, promising some form of safety, at the end of the bridge. They were not likely to be fast enough, and they both knew it, but the effort had to be made; as long as the fish came the flying creatures would concentrate on them, for it seemed they were their natural prey, but if they stopped leaping then other flesh might become more interesting. At which point they would be dead.

Jack sheathed his sword, ignoring the raging fires in his chest and limbs as best he could, his strength was failing and hers would be too, the rock spire was too far away and the fall to the lake to easily caused as the creatures wheeled around them, they had only one chance that he could see,
"Elanor!" He hissed, "come here!"
Something in his face or voice warned her that there was some reason for his demand and he sent up a silent prayer of thanks for sensible women when she crossed to him without hesitation or comment.
She frowned into his face as he pulled her to his chest and wrapped her arms around him, but said nothing.
"We'll never make it on foot," he muttered as he eased his pistol so that it was not between them,
"Agreed."
"So, hold on to me, and make it tight luv," he jerked his head in the direction of the successful hunters cruising past them, "because we are begging a ride, if you take my meaning."
She looked up and he saw understanding light her face, then she moved closer to him and wrapped her arms around his chest,
"I do indeed, " she said into his ear, "can you hold it alone or should I help?"
"Best not, might unsettle the load so to speak. Just hang on."
She grunted her agreement and buried her head in the curve of his neck, gripping him tighter still.

Over Elanor's shoulder Jack watched as one of the flying predators at the far end of the walkway snatched its prey and turned leisurely towards them,
"Hold on!" he hissed again knowing that the time was now, and that there was only one chance of it, if he missed this time they would topple over into the waters below.
He drew the deepest breath that he could and prepared himself for the pain he knew was about to come, feeling her breast press harder still against him as she did the same. As the creature passed over their heads Jack caught at the tails trailing from the talons, knotting his hands in them as best he could. The shock of the impact jerked his shoulders and tore at his back but he held on as Elanor tightened her grip on him still further. The stone fell away from below their feet and they were borne upwards and away on strongly beating wings towards the rock spire.

In the green waters below them the Lady watched them go and smiled.