A/N: Hey, everyone! Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! Sorry this took a lot longer than usual, I had a bit of writer's block. This chapter's much more descriptive than dialogue-oriented, so I hope you don't mind... I had some trouble writing it and I hope it's up to par.
Chapter XXI
Four days later, we arrived at an enormous cave. The surrounding area was full of verve, marked by the sound of chirping birds and the sight of lush greenery and cascading cliffs. It looked almost as if we were going ashore, but I knew for a fact that we were headed into the darkened grotto; into the Devil's Throat.
As we passed under the earthen archway, I looked up to see stalactites hanging perilously above our heads. If but one fell, our ship could be destroyed. However, despite the ominous sense of danger that permeated the cavern, I couldn't help but marvel at its beauty. Golden shimmers of sunlight were reflected from beneath the surface of the water and danced tantalizingly on the rock walls of the cave, casting a muted, bluish-green hue over the entirety of the area.
While the rest of the crew, too, was enthralled by the magnificence of the spectacle, Jack, Jansen, Gibbs, and Natalie were focused solely on navigating the ship through the treacherously narrow and shallow passageway. Jack, who was steering, had an uncharacteristic look of utter concentration displayed across his face. Luckily, the Poseidon's Jewel was not nearly as large as some of the other ships he had brought through the passage and was thus able to sail through the grotto without touching the sides.
As we traveled further into the tunnel, however, the breadth grew narrower and the light grew dimmer.
"Light the lanterns," Jack commanded once we were in almost complete darkness.
We did as was instructed, and soon the small, warm flames were the only things illuminating our way. The orangey glow bounced off the ebony water and damp walls, creating a ghostly shadow of the Jewel's silhouette.
I looked back at Jack, who was wearing the same expression as before. The candlelight distorted his features slightly, highlighting the sharp curve of his cheekbones and making his eyes appear blacker than ever.
It struck me suddenly that I didn't like to see him serious. It worried me.
And I didn't know if this newfound solemnity was a product of his focus on navigation, or his anticipation of coming events. Whichever it was, I hoped that this state was very temporary.
"Are all the Pirate Lords already there?" I asked Gibbs.
"Aye, I assume so. It ain't an easy feat to get the nine Lords in one place, but I reckon the prospect of new ships is incentive enough for most. One thing is for certain: Cap'ns Barbossa n' Teague are most definitely awaiting our arrival; n' ye be warned, this pair be a fearsome enough duo on their own."
"Who is Captain Teague," I asked, "You didn't name him as one of the Pirate Lords, so why is he so important?"
"Cap'n Teague is the Keeper of the Code – he's the mediator between the Pirate Lords, n' what he says is law."
"Is he really powerful enough to keep them all in check?"
"Aye, and ye'd do well not to question the authority o' Cap'n Teague if ye want to live to see yourself grow old, lassie."
"Is even Jack subservient to him?" I couldn't imagine Jack taking orders from anyone, regardless of how powerful they were.
"Oh yes, more'n most, even. Cap'n Teague is his father."
"His father?"
"Aye, his father. If ever there was a man who could keep Cap'n Jack in check, it'd be Edward Teague."
"Why is his own father trying to get him into trouble?" I questioned in disbelief.
"He ain't tryin' to get him into trouble, per say, just uphold the law. The Pirata Codex takes precedence over all else, includin' familial ties." He lowered his voice slightly, "Those ships ought to be returned to their rightful owners, accordin' to pirate law."
"Pirate law?"
"Aye, it exists, believe it or not."
"But Jack only has an interest in the Pearl, correct?"
"Aye…"
"So, why does he even want to have those other ships?"
"S'pose he'd like 'em as bargaining chips, as it were. Plus, it's always useful to have a spare ship… or a dozen spare ships…"
"But if he just hands them over, everything will be fine, right?"
"Well, they ain't exactly in useable condition, as it were. N' the rest o' the Lords know one thing about Cap'n Jack Sparrow that'll never cease to ring true: he will stop at nothing to make the Pearl his. Hell, he even sold 'is soul to Davy Jones in order to bring 'er back from the darkest depths of the ocean. Ye can bet that they're gonna suspect he's got a plan to restore 'er to 'er rightful state, aye?"
"I see," I said delicately.
"But Jack's got a God-given gift when I comes to communicatin' wit' people, so we'll see if 'e can get 'imself outta this mess…"
A matter of hours later, a dim light appeared at the end of the tunnel. I say dim, because it was not a natural. It was not sunlight, which made sense because we had spent the whole of the day in the Devil's Throat.
"Jack, is that our destination?" I called loudly up to the helm. I only realized what I had said after it was too late. I was met with several bewildered glances, most notably from Wentworth and the Spritelies. Although, perhaps Wentworth's wasn't as bewildered as it was sullen.
"Aye, 'tis," he replied smoothly; he didn't seem aware of my slip-up.
As we grew nearer, I was able to make out the vague outline of the city itself. It was very jagged, which could easily be attributed to the nature of its construction. There were small, bright, and seemingly random patches of light scattered throughout the manmade structure. After the actual details of the city began to take shape, I instantly understood Natalie's previous comment. Macabre, it might have been; but it was indisputably beautiful just the same.
"Wow," I breathed, awestruck.
"She's really somethin', ain't she?" Gibbs agreed heartily.
Shipwreck City was an eerie accrual of half-ships, quarter-ships, and just vacant stretches of wood. The styles of the building materials varied greatly, from decadent and ornate to crude and simple. Masts and booms jutted out indiscriminately throughout, almost like branches off of a tree. There was no way it could be stable, and yet small human figures scurried about without any sense of worry. There were, as was necessary, docks distributed throughout the island. Several ships stood out; in particular, the Queen Anne's Revenge. Barbossa was here, just as Gibbs and the Daggerdales had said he would be.
After we had brought the ship into the marina, Jack announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Shipwreck City! This be the only place in the whole of the Caribbean where pirates reign free and 'respectable' men are the hunted. Never have your gentle eyes laid gaze on this type of divine, anarchical chaos; 'cept, maybe, if ye've been to Tortuga. However, unlike the proliferous bouquet that is Tortuga, Shipwreck City is not inhabited solely by gutter rats and piratical hopefuls. Nay, Shipwreck City is filled with a considerably more elite circle of miscreants, so you'd best mind yourself. The punishment for just about every manner of crime on this boneyard is death, typically enforced by the offendee him or herself… I have a special order of business that I must take care of, so you all are going to be left to your own devices, as it were. So, try not to get yourselves killed."
With that, he stepped regally from the side of the ship and onto the dock. Everyone else followed suit as the Spritelies secured the ship. Gibbs de-boarded with a large sack in his grasp, presumably one that contained the ships in question.
Soon after we had entered the thick of the city, Jack, Gibbs, and the Daggerdales began to part ways with the rest of us. I jogged to catch up with them and asked Jack, "So, that's it, then? You're just going to leave us?"
"Don't tell me you wish to join us, love," was his response.
"Well, yes, I do," I sputtered.
"And why, pray tell, is that?"
"Because," I started, "I don't do well on my own in these sorts of places."
"Ah, that I cannot dispute…" he admitted.
"So, I can come with you?" I inquired hopefully.
"Aye, I s'pose so… I would like Barbossa and Teague to see this little prize of mine, that's for certain…"
"I'm no 'prize'!" I insisted defiantly.
" 'course not, love. But they won't see it that way… The Pirate Lords are quite keen on displaying their spoils, and I'd say you're just as impressive as any gold sword or silver chalice."
I was not fond of being objectified (to put it lightly), but I would allow him to think of me as a bit of treasure if it would enable me to see the other Pirate Lords. So, I swallowed my indignation and followed them forward, trying to ignore the knowing smirks from the other three members of the party.
The streets of Shipwreck City were littered with the most fascinating assortment of derelicts I had ever seen. Firstly, you'd be hard-pressed to find a bystander with all his limbs and eyes; it seemed that nearly everyone had a peg-leg, a hook for a hand, or an eye-patch (or a combination of all three), all of varying degrees of opulence or dearth.
As we walked, I noticed that we were headed towards a towering wooden gate that stood at least three stories high and attached to the stern of an enormous ship. Everything seemed to be centered around this entrance, and just outside it were numerous caravans of differing goods, ranging from foodstuffs to textiles.
We passed a tavern, called "The Cutlass," that seemed to be one of the most popular haunts on the island. There was a line at the front, and the sounds coming from within indicated that it was quite the lively place to drink and gamble and engage in such other forms of debauchery. I didn't doubt that this was where the rest of the crew would end up at some point or another.
And then, we reached the gates.
Surprisingly, they were guarded; this implied some sort of organization that I didn't think possible in such a place.
The watchmen were of indeterminable race or ethnicity, and wore clothing with both Western and Eastern traits.
"Name," one demanded bluntly.
"Captain Jack Sparrow," Jack drawled languidly, "And crew."
"Identification?"
Jack made an offended face. "You don't know who I am, mate?" he sneered.
"All who wish to pass through require identification, Captain Sparrow."
Jack begrudgingly drew up his sleeve and exposed a tattoo of a sparrow passing over the water with the sun setting in the background.
"I suppose that'll do," said one of the guards, "Sorry 'bout the confusion, Lord Sparrow."
"That's right," Jack said, grinning cheekily, "Lord Captain Jack Sparrow, innit?"
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as we followed him through the now-open gates.
The inside of the building was much darker than the streets had been, and the only illumination was produced by candles lining the walls. Many different hallways split off from where we were walking, but Jack appeared to know precisely where he was going. So, we continued straight, all the way to a large, rectangular door at the end of the hall.
It was clear that the structure wasn't originally made with the ship; it didn't quite fit the doorway and allowed a large amount of light to pass underneath.
Jack slowly put one of his dirty hands on the gigantic brass doorknob and held it there for dramatic effect. Finally, he twisted it and pushed forward.
In front of us was a huge table, which stretched almost the entire length of the room. The atmosphere was significantly brighter than that of the hallway, thanks to a large, wrought iron chandelier and various other candles scattered throughout the room. Just in front of the door lay great globe with several swords stuck into it.
"Welcome to Pirate Hall," Jack muttered dryly as he unsheathed his cutlass and drove it into the Caribbean. I wondered if I ought to do so as well, but saw that Gibbs and the Daggerdales retained their weapons and therefore did the same.
There were already several people seated around the table, including one man I easily recognized as Barbossa.
" 'ello, chums," Jack said cheerily as he sauntered into the light. I hung close behind him, not wanting to be spotted by Barbossa.
All of a sudden, someone emerged from the he shadows at the back of the room. As soon as I got a look at him, I realized an indisputable fact; he was Jack's father. He was Edward Teague.
His hair, if possible, was even more elaborate than his son's and had two large golden crosses entwined into it; surprisingly, his locks (if they can be called such) were still mostly black. On the top of his dark head lay an ostentatious feathered bicorn. He, too, had dark kohl smeared around his eyes and wore an outfit vaguely similar to Captain Sparrow's. However, his face was rugged and battle-hardened, with deep creases and a decidedly aged appearance. All in all, he looked exactly how I imagined Jack might look in about thirty years' time.
" 'ello, Jackie," he greeted with a startlingly familiar golden-toothed grin.
A/N: I hope you all liked it! Please leave me a review! The next chapter will be much more exciting, I promise :)