Holmes dropped Moran's leg and twisted aside, only a fraction of a second before silver flashed through the dark between them. The detective cried out as the throwing knife that Moran had probably intended to bury in his gut sliced a line of fire across his left hip... and then the Colonel's arm was around his neck from behind, a second blade digging between his ribs.
"Do you know," Moran murmured in his ear in a disturbingly conversational tone, "I don't believe this is the way to the ship, after all."
"Wh-What are you doing?!" Holmes croaked, not daring to struggle. His body was hanging heavy, pain and surprise had shattered his concentration. If Moran let him drop, he had perhaps all of five seconds to refocus before he hit the water, hard. "Moriarty..."
"Oh, I think the Professor can afford to wait for us a little longer... Well, I say 'us'..." Moran's voice became contrite. "I'm so sorry, sir – I showed Holmes the watch chain, like you said, but he just went berserk!"
Holmes suddenly felt very cold. So this was why Moran hadn't shot him earlier... He'd been waiting for a chance to claim self-defence, without any inconvenient witnesses, and a watery landing if it all went wrong! "You don't approve of his plans, then," he managed to respond lightly. "Can't say I blame you!"
The Colonel's chuckle travelled through his arm. "Good try, Holmes. Now, before I continue, you can take out that revolver you're thinking of reaching for by the barrel, very slowly, and give it a nice burial at sea."
Swearing inwardly, Holmes fumbled one-handed in his coat pocket, the bandage and gauze pad catching on the flap now that he had to operate blind. As his fingers touched the gun, something chinked softly against the grip. Praying that Moran hadn't heard, the detective delicately scooped up the shark tooth with his last two fingers, then grasped the gun barrel with the other three. The sight of the gun dangling harmlessly should make an excellent distraction. Watson would have approved, he'd always liked conjuring tricks that involved misdirection...
"Good," Moran grunted as Holmes gingerly extracted his hand. "Now drop i– aargh!"
Holmes had slammed the tooth into his captor's forearm the moment he'd let go of the gun; at the same time, he'd launched himself forward as hard as he could, away from Moran's knife. Even so, the tip gouged into his lower back, and he barely managed to stay airborne as fresh pain coursed through him, fighting for breath. Then he lurched sickeningly as an arm wrapped around his ankles – Moran! The Colonel appeared to be weaponless and flightless now, left arm dangling and streaming blood, but his grim expression said it all: if he was going down, then so was Holmes!
"Colonel, listen!" Holmes snapped, straining with all of his might against the dead weight on his legs, but it wasn't nearly enough. Another minute, and they would be swimming in ice-cold water with the sharks, and both of them were wounded! "It doesn't have to go like this! We can both reach the shore, just think of someone you care about!"
Moran's face twisted into a snarl of fury. "He's leaving! The bastard's double-crossing me! Me!"
"Who... Moriarty?" Holmes spluttered, forgetting everything else for the moment in his astonishment. "Wh-Where's he going?"
"Where do you think?!" Moran spat viciously. "He said you'd have to take him there and back before I could follow him! He lied to me!"
Dear God... "How do you know?!" Holmes yelled, as the crash of the waves below grew ever louder. "Why wouldn't he come back for a friend?"
Moran began to laugh helplessly, though his one-armed grip never relaxed. "You haven't seen him fly yet, have you, Holmes?" he gasped. "He's like a kid with a new toy! He spends his whole life in pursuit of cold, hard logic, and suddenly he finds out from that pickled sot of a pirate that magic is real, he actually can do anything he wants! What do you think that does to a man like him?"
"...Ah." Yes, Holmes could well imagine... "Well... help me to stop him, then! I don't want him getting to Neverland, either, believe me! You can come for me after that, I promise." Another devil, another deal... but at least this was one he could live with. "I'll be waiting!"
Moran's sudden grin was practically comradely. "You know what, Holmes? I almost do believe you." He dragged his wounded arm up in a shaky salute. "See you in Hell!"
"No!" But Moran had already released him, plunging into the inky waves with an almighty splash that almost touched the detective's boot soles. "Colonel!" Wincing from his injuries, Holmes descended further and scanned the heaving surface.
"Pffft!" Moran bobbed up, sputtering, and shook the water out of his eyes. He grinned again when he saw Holmes above him and gave a jaunty little wave, before striking out towards the twinkling lights of Margate with his good arm.
Holmes could only watch in disbelief, mostly at how quickly things had changed. It was only a mile or two to shore from here, the Colonel had a reasonable chance of survival... and he was wasting precious seconds, with no idea of where the ship was really anchored! Calmly now, no need to panic – Moran must have thought Holmes was capable of getting there by himself, even in his battered state, but he was going to need a lot more height to see any ships on the water. Think about Watson... He dived upwards against the growing pull of gravity; the fairy dust was finally giving out, and Moran still had the thimble, damn him...
Dong dong! Dong dong!
Good heavens, ten o'clock already? No wonder he felt so tired… Wait… that was a ship's bell! Holmes strained his eyes in what he hoped was the right direction, but he could barely even focus now, the sea was one giant blur. No telling whether the ship was the one he sought, either... but he had no choice now, he was already starting to sink again. Think about Watson...
He shot forward, trying very hard not to think about how rapidly he seemed to be losing height, how horribly loud the waves sounded, he could feel the spray on his face... Desperately, he kicked upwards again for a few seconds, straining every sinew to stay in the air, and then... was it... Yes! He wasn't imagining it, the lights of a ship, gleaming off the water... Now he just needed to reach it before he drowned... It seemed so far... His feet were cold and wet...
Holmes drew a deep breath and crowed as loud as he could manage... which didn't seem all that loud, really... Perhaps it was time to take a rest, catch his breath... The bed was horribly cold, but at least someone was rocking him...
