I couldn't sleep. Every time I closed my eyes they'd spring back open of their own accord and stare into the darkness. The darkness gave me no comfort, but still I stared at it. The weight and worry over the Fountain of Youth was weighing me down and playing on my mind. Something about the entire idea of it made me uneasy. Surely it couldn't be as good as Jack was making it out to be, or everyone in the world would be immortal. There had to be some kind of catch. Had anyone even been there before? Was he sure it even existed or was his thirst for immortality completely clouding his judgement? Restless with worry, I tossed and turned, sat up, lay back down, got up, and climbed back into bad again. I was surprised none of my movements woke Jack. Maybe a part of me wanted him to wake up so he could tell me there was nothing to be afraid of. Even the morning sunlight could not dissolve the fears I'd had in the night.
I sat the end of the bed and waited for Jack to wake up after having opened up the curtains to speed the process up a little. I watched him stir. He turned over to face where I would have been lying and reached out a hand with a small sleepy smile on his face. I almost laughed when the smile dissolved to panic and confusion on not finding me there. He sat up, saw me sitting at his feet, staring at him and almost fell out of bed in shock. "Belle! How long have you been there?"
I shrugged. "A while."
"Do you… do you do this… regularly?" he asked, sounding a bit worried. "Because I don't think that's very normal, love."
"No, I was waiting for you to wake up. Jack I need to-"
"Have you tidied up?" he asked incredulously, looking around at his cabin in a little bit of shock. I nodded. His eyes widened. "How much time did you have? Did you get any sleep at all?"
"No, listen, Jack, I'm worried about the Fountain. Do you really think this is a good idea?"
"Of course I do," he beamed at me. I sighed. It was a stupid question for me to have asked, Jack always thought all his ideas were brilliant. Even the rubbish ones, like naming a child 'Rum', for example.
"But… is it safe?"
"Er…" he hesitated. "Define 'safe'?"
"Something that doesn't involve any of us dying."
He sighed. "Darlin' who am I?" I glowered at him. We both knew there was no way I was going to answer that ridiculous question. His smile faltered, if only for a second before he answered it himself as if that was what he had intended to do from the outset. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. And what does that make me?"
I paused, "A little bit insane."
"Only if by 'insane' you mean charming, witty, cunning and brave." He winked at me. I rolled my eyes. It was not what I had meant by insane and his little speech was in no way answering any of my questions or making me feel any better about anything. "And," he looked triumphant. "To add to that list I've got a little bit of magic."
Right, that answers that then, my husband definitely is insane.
"Magic?" I repeated, searching for something in his eyes that would assure me he was joking. He nodded.
"Didn't think we could get somewhere as guarded as the Fountain of Youth without a teeny bit of the stuff did you, love?" In his eyes I could see he was laughing at my apparent naivety.
"But, Jack…. Magic doesn't exist. It's just folklore from the Old World. Stories. None of it's real."
He laughed out loud then. "Isabel, you've seen cursed pirates and the supposedly mythical Kraken. You've sailed to the ends of the earth, spoken to Davy Jones and his crew of Fishpeople and you still think that the stories of the Old World are folklore? Did you walk around with your eyes shut and your fingers in your ears while we were at Tia's?"
For a second I couldn't speak. Small shivers ran up and down my spine. Old World stories I'd heard as a child began to flood back. Stories that James had told me were false, meant for children and had been proved to mean nothing by the New World, the more "civilised" world, the British Empire was creating. Suddenly the world I was living in seemed like a completely different place. "You're telling me…" I said slowly. "That you can preform magic?"
"No," Jack shook his head. "Don't be ridiculous. However, I do know someone who can and let me tell you, love, you won't be calling me insane after you've met her!"
Oh… dear.
Her house didn't look any different to any of the other ones, so I admit to being surprised when we stopped outside it. I even wondered if Jack was sure we had the right house, but he strode confidently up the path. His crew followed, dragging their feet. The only unexpected thing that happened then was that Jack did not knock or ring a bell, he just walked straight in. I followed, bracing myself for an interior just as strange as Tia Dalma's had been. It was nothing like it. The place was completely empty. There weren't even any curtains on the windows, but everything was very clean. The windows were shining as if they could have been freshly washed and there was not even a speck of dust on the floor. The walls and floor were completely bare; there was no furniture anywhere, just the cold floorboards stretching out, broken only in one place by a small piece of string lying in the middle of the room. The whole house seemed dead. Everything was very silent, very still. For a second I was almost afraid to break the silence. The crew coming in behind me looked just as confused by what they saw. I looked at Jack. "Are we in the right place?"
My voice sounded deadened, quieter, in this atmosphere. "Course we are," he beamed. "Why wouldn't we be?"
"It just…" I looked around, half-expecting to see a figure in a shadowy corner. "It doesn't look like anyone lives here."
"That," he said. "Would be because you don't know where to look."
He walked over to the centre of the room. I didn't particularly wish to follow him. I was unsure of this place and so were the crew who stayed hovering around the outskirts of the room and by the door. Jack bent over and tugged on the string. From somewhere, deep inside the ground, a bell tolled. Ragetti jumped. "What was that?"
"Just ringing the doorbell," said Jack cheerfully.