Chapter 9

In the morning, I felt all eyes on me as the crew emerged from belowdecks to see me perched at the helm. Gibbs thundered up the steps, exclaiming, "What do you think you're doing, lass? You've altered course!"

"Aye, Mister Gibbs, I have." I declared, keeping a firm gaze on the horizon before me.

For a brief moment, I suspected the first mate would implode. "And why the bloody hell would you? Jack's given us a heading according to his compass."

I snapped my head to meet his gaze, daring him for a challenge. "His bloody compass is pointing to wherever lies that which my sister loves most, no?"

"That would be correct." He nodded, taking a step back.

"Then why in the world would it be pointing anywhere other than the direction of one Mr. William Turner? And—" I continued, ignoring his spluttering protests. "As the man in question is aboard the Flying Dutchman, we can safely assume that we have an incorrect heading. Would you like to put us back on that course or may I proceed?"

Gibbs gaped openly, opening and closing his mouth like a fish as he tried to fashion a response.

"Bloody job well done, Rachelle," Jack crowed, marching across the deck. "I've rare seen Master Gibbs rendered speechless."

Laughing, I gave him a mock-salute and a wry smile. "Aye, Captain. Just feeling like myself again."

And we laughed harder as one by one the crew began to realize I was in their midst.

"Land ho!"

As the call came from the crow's nest, we readied the longboat to head to shore. I had long since returned control of the helm to Cotton and his parrot; now, I eyed the party that would accompany Jack and me to shore. Elizabeth, still keeping defiant hold of the compass, already claimed a perch in the boat and, for whatever grand reason, Jack insisted on bringing Norrington – "to do the heavy lifting", he claimed.

That left room for the two men who elected to row us to shore.

"You're pulling too fast!" Pintel complained, shouting across the boat.

"You're pulling too slow!" Ragetti shot back, and then explained, "We don't want the Kraken to catch us."

"I'm saving my strength for when it comes. And I don't think it's Kraken, anyways. I've always heard it said Kráken."

"What, with a long a?"

"Uh huh."

"No, no, no, no, no, Kràken is how it's pronounced in the original Scandinavian, and Kraken's closer to that."

"Well, we ain't original Scandinavians, are we? Kráken!"

"It's a mythological creature; I can calls it what I wants!"

I caught Elizabeth's gaze rolling my eyes in their direction with a smirk. Her lips upturned slightly, but she kept her attention glued to the compass in her grasp. I peered over to see where it pointed and followed its path – straight up to Jack.

Furrowing my brow, I leaned to peer behind him. Will must be in that direction.

As the boat pulled up to shore, I pushed the thought from my mind and trudged through the water to the beach. "So, love," Jack smiled, turning to me. "Where is this blasted chest of Davy Jones?"

I cocked an eyebrow. "You expected me to get the precise location from a book on mythology?" I scoffed. "Come now, Jack, I'm clever, but I can't do that."

He pursed his lips and turned to my sister. "Well, Miss Swann, it's your turn. Remember that you can get dear William his freedom with the heart of Davy Jones. Now, work your–" He wiggled his fingers in her direction. "Magic."

With a nod, the woman locked her gaze on the compass and began pacing across the beach around us. After a few moments, she snapped it closed, shook it, and tried again. "This doesn't work." my adoptive sister grumbled. "And it certainly doesn't show you what you want most."

She scowled grumpily and took a seat in the sand. Peering over her shoulder, I followed the arrow's path once more. Jack.

I gazed past him, looking for Will or the Dutchman, but saw nothing.

"You women are bloody useless." the pirate captain huffed, grabbing the compass from her hands.

He looked down at it, then back up at us. Muttering to himself, he shook it once and reopened it as I scrambled over to see where it pointed. "Surprise, surprise." I growled to myself, following its path to my sister.

Suddenly, Jack spoke. "You're sitting on it."

"Beg pardon?" Elizabeth gaped.

"Move." The Captain motioned for her to get up and for James to dig where she had been sitting.

The trio set into motion, but I paused, feeling a peculiar presence. Turning, I gazed out at the sea. Pintel and Ragetti still stood near the boats, keeping themselves plenty occupied. I swept my eyes across the water, spying a ship on the horizon. It tipped downward and melted into the sea—it was the Flying Dutchman. I knew my former host had caused the storm to roughen up the sea and harden my voyage, so it didn't surprise me that he'd traced us here. Perhaps my perceptions were wrong. Maybe Jack and Will did just line up correctly by pure chance; after all, it was the same chance that Elizabeth's seat actually gave way to the chest.

"It's real!" I heard my sister exclaim.

"Well, of course it is." I snapped, whirling around to see the three of them crowded around wooden box filled with old roses and love letters. A smaller black chest was sitting on the sand. "Davy Jones is real enough and so is the heart."

Maybe all my premonitions were wrong.

"You actually were telling the truth." Norrington said to Jack.

Jack looked over at his crew member. "I do that quite a lot. You people are always surprised."

"With good reason!" someone announced, appearing from the water behind me.

Elizabeth jumped up, running to embrace her fiancée. "Will! You're all right! Thank God! I came to find you."

"How did you get here?" Jack questioned with a hint of alarm.

Will looked up at us, keeping an arm wrapped protectively around Elizabeth, and said, "Sea turtles, mate. A pair of them strapped to my feet."

"Not so easy, is it?"

"But I do owe you thanks, Jack."

He looked truly surprised. "You do?"

"After you tricked me onto that ship to square your debt with Jones…"

"What?" Elizabeth asked, taken aback at the lie she'd been fed.

"What?" Jack replied wide-eyed and innocently.

Realization washed over me as I recalled the treatment Will was forced to face at the hands of his own father. "You blasted codfish." I spat at Jack. "Every damned thing was your bloody fault."

"…I was reunited with my father." Will finished.

"Oh, well, you're welcome, then." Jack grinned, thinking he was out of trouble. He paused, turning to me. "Wait, Rachelle, you never told me that. Why didn't you tell me that Bootstrap was there, too?"

I scowled. "You didn't even know I was aboard your ship until a few days ago. I've been a little bloody busy."

"Everything you said to me, every word was a lie!" Elizabeth accused, cutting off our argument as she marched towards him.

"Pretty much. Time and tide, love." Jack shrugged, pausing when he saw Will kneel in front of the chest with a knife and key. "Oy, what are you doing?"

"I'm going to kill Jones."

Jack pulled out his sword and pointed it at Will. "Can't let you do that, William. 'Cause if Jones is dead, who's to call his terrible beastie off the hunt, eh?"

"What about me?" I offered, speaking more boldly than I'd dared. "I could call the Kraken off the hunt."

"What about you?" James scoffed. "What in the world makes you think that you can control the Kraken?"

My heart was banging against my chest, anxiety coursing through my veins. My mind screamed at me that I hadn't thought through everything. I didn't know.

"What are you saying, love?" Jack queried.

I didn't know.

"Rachelle?" Will questioned, rising to his feet and sheathing his knife.

I didn't know.

Closing my eyes, I recalled my encounter with the beast. I recalled my conversations with the infamous captain of the Flying Dutchman. I recalled his agreement to let me free.

I didn't know, but I could feel it.

"I could call the Kraken off the hunt." I repeated. "I can control it because… well, I think Davy Jones is my father."

Just like that, the air fell deathly still.