Disclaimer: I own no part of Pirates of the Caribbean. Original characters and plots are owned by me.

Chapter 18

A Change in the Weather

"'E don't seem inclined t' be caught," Ragetti said. We were both peering up at the Pearl's topgallant yard, where Jack the monkey perched, staring down at us. He had eluded Ragetti's best efforts, and I couldn't see that I would fare any better. Jack was being a bloody nuisance. However, what with Hector's orders to catch him, and my brother's offer to shoot him, I really had no choice.

"Thank you, Ragetti." I surveyed the rigging and rallied my dwindling patience. "I'll just go up-again-and see if I can coax him."

I pulled off my boots and climbed up to the crosstrees. With one hand on the rigging, I slowly extended my other arm towards Hector's pet, murmuring reassurance.

Jack edged away.

My temper snapped. "Devil freeze your guts," I hissed, and made a quick lunge at him. He scampered off, and I nearly fell. I gasped, recovered my balance, and looked down. The deck seemed a mile below my feet.

Jack regarded me with bright eyes from the far end of the yard. The prospect of breaking my neck loomed before me, followed by an image of my widowed husband being consoled in his grief by the dancing woman in Tortuga. My efforts to recapture Jack were getting me nowhere, so instead, I decided to try and wait him out. Sitting on the crosstrees, my arms wrapped tightly about the mast, I gazed at Cuidad Blanca.

The shore was bustling with activity and shouts as our lads repeatedly loaded the boats with treasure and ferried it to our ships. I could make out Hector and my brother, moving here and there as they both issued orders. Occasionally, Hector would make a quick, angry gesture at Jack, signalling some dispute between them, but as long as no weapons were drawn I judged that matters were proceeding smoothly.

Jeremy was working with a small group of men at some distance from the others. Even from afar he looked anxious as they wielded their shovels, and I knew, just as surely as if I could see through the sands, that his efforts would be for naught.

It was a sad state of affairs. I had looked forward to helping with his mission before I had guessed its purpose, but now I wanted him to fail. We had to get away from Cuidad Blanca before he realised he was digging in the wrong place.

My eyes turned inexorably towards that green hill, the place that might have been dedicated to the Carib deities. I thought of the birds and felt the pit of my stomach drop. Vultures, Hector had insisted last night. Nothing out of the ordinary. And with that, he had seemed to dismiss the topic. But Hector never stopped working things out, even in his dreams, as I soon discovered.

When I had awakened in the morning, he was already lying on his side, watching me with a smile. "Good mornin', sweet missus," he said, taking my hand and kissing my fingers. "I've a proposal for ye."

I brushed the sleep from my eyes and nestled against him. "Regarding?"

"All yer present difficulties," he replied grandly, folding his arms about me. "Beginnin' with that hill. Ye must not return to it. If ye do, 'twill only rouse Norrington's suspicious nature."

"I know he isn't blind to my movements," I said. "But I've promised to help Maroto."

"Ah! But there be no reason fer haste," he replied. "Let Norrington finish his business an' go back empty-handed. Once we be rid of him, we can return when we please, find the map, an' destroy it." He brushed a few stray hairs back from my face and smiled sweetly. "If that still be yer wish," he added.

Hector's plan tempted me mightily. The birds had struck me with horror. I loathed the prospect of going anywhere near that hill. If I could delay for a while, perhaps I could avoid it altogether. And yet, something felt wrong.

"What of Maroto?" I asked. "He's bound to be unhappy."

"Serves him right," Hector growled, "fer lying to ye from the start. And ye didn't specify when ye'd help him, did ye?"

This reasoning, coupled with my aversion to Cuidad Blanca, had served to win me over.

And now, as I stared at the blighted little hill from the Pearl's mast, I felt again the immense relief of letting Hector take charge. He was so strong, so unflinching. He knew the best course of action, and would not turn aside merely to spare Maroto's feelings. I could not have asked for a stauncher ally, and I rejoiced that I had trusted him so completely.

The sound of monkey chattering broke in upon my daydreams. I turned just in time to see Jack leap across to the upper shroud of the main mast. "I am not climbing another mast for you," I muttered. I returned to the deck and went back to the Medusa without him.

Knowing it was cowardly, I still managed to avoid Maroto until the boats were returning from their final trip. Then he joined me at the rail, watching the last of our treasure being brought aboard. When Jeremy cleared the gangway, I called out to him, "No luck?"

He shook his head and approached. "A good first effort, I think. But clearly requiring more study. I shall report my findings, and leave it at that. Success may elude us for some time, I fear."

Hector was frowning as he joined us, all business, his mouth pulled down at the corners. "We sail at first watch," he snapped. He nodded upwards, indicating the sky. On the horizon, a layer of lead-grey clouds was slowly, almost imperceptibly, thickening.

We would have to be well out at sea before the storm rolled in. Even a flat, sandy shore can wreck a ship fairly efficiently in the right sort of weather. But first watch was almost eight hours away. Why would Hector wait?

I raised a questioning eyebrow.

"First watch, but no earlier," Jeremy chimed in firmly, and I realised that the order to delay had come from him, not Hector, who offered no response. That seemed strange. Why would Hector go along so tamely, unless it suited his own ends?

I watched as the two men made their way to the captain's quarters, with Digger at their heels.

Maroto turned to me. "Pero, you and I cannot leave," he said. His agitation and disappointment were palpable. "We have not found the map. You promised your help!"

"What am I to do?" I hedged, knowing I was dashing his hopes. "Time's run out. A storm is coming. We're not going ashore."

"You mustn't fear the birds," he insisted. "That's what is truly stopping you."

His words struck home, and made me angry at myself. I set my face like stone. "Otro día, perhaps,but not today, Padre. Sorry."

I walked quickly away, letting him hope another chance would come. But I had made up my mind: nothing would send me back to that hill, now or ever.

-o-

Claiming he needed to sleep before we set sail, Hector retired directly after supper that evening, leaving Jeremy and me to play at cards. I had been staking one trifling bit of gold after another, and allowing Jeremy to win almost every hand. I didn't wish him to guess that Hector's lady card-sharper in Tortuga had been me.

After some time, Jeremy stifled a yawn. "It's late," he said. "Do you want to continue?" He poured himself another tot of rum.

Two hours of losing endless hands of French ruff was as much as I could bear. I laid down my cards. "No. I am well and truly beat." I managed a smile as he scooped up his winnings.

"Winner takes all," he observed with a wink.

Leaving Jeremy to his rum, I returned to my cabin, quietly slipping past Hector's door. Once in bed, I sent my thoughts in search of pleasant memories that would induce sleep, but somehow they kept returning to the mysterious hill with uncanny persistence. If I pictured exotic flowers, I wondered if there were any near the hill. If I thought of my fondest childhood rambles, the Cornish coast became the sandy shore of Cuidad Blanca, and I knew I would turn inland and see the hill. The hairs on the back of my neck began to rise at the thought that I could not escape its presence.

I willed myself to relax. Perhaps if I simply allowed my thoughts to unfold, I could settle my apprehensions about the hill and get some sleep. Very well. What about this idea of a temple on the hill? If a temple had ever stood on its crest, there couldn't be much left; I was certain that I would have seen some trace of it from the Pearl's mast. So much for that idea.

I turned on my side and realised I was drumming my fingers against my knee as another theory took shape. Temple or no, the Carib could have carried out rituals there. If they worshipped nature gods, as Jeremy had suggested, why not pray to them in the open? Nearer to the sky?

Once I considered this possibility, it made more and more sense. If I had only gone to the top of the hill, I might have found more relics; perhaps even the map itself, graven on a stone pillar.

And everything would have been perfect, if 'perfect' included me as the main course for a flock of large, carnivorous birds.

Then Maroto's odd words came back to me: there are no birds. What the devil had he meant by that?

I became increasingly distracted by these troublesome notions. I could not let them lie. Lost in thought, I had been hearing but not listening to the faint noises next door, but now came a single thump, just loud enough to startle me. Then it began again. What could Hector be doing? Something small seemed to be rolling across the floor each time the angle of the ship changed. I listened intently. It sounded very like-I frowned-like an apple!

I was up in an instant, and knocked softly on his door. There was no answer, and I didn't hear his familiar snoring. Fearing that he was ill or worse, I opened the door just a crack to check on him. A single apple rolled past, propelled by the motion of the ship. Hector's berth was still made up from the morning.

He had never gone to bed. In fact, he had deliberately lied about it-to everyone.

The empty cabin seemed to stare back at me. I shut the door and tried to use my head. He must have had secret business. Something he had to do tonight. Why could it not wait until tomorrow? I drew my breath in sharply-because we would be under sail!

His business was in Cuidad Blanca.

I gasped and covered my face with both hands. "Damn you, Hector! How could you do this to me?" I knew exactly where he had gone; he must have set out to find the map.

The only person who could help me was Maroto. I ran to his cabin and banged on the door. The silence of an empty room was all I heard. Throwing the door open, I found that Maroto, too, was absent. My eyes widened as a little thrill of panic went through me.

There was only one thing for it: I armed myself with every device I could put my hands on-scimitar, pistols, dagger, grenade-and slipped out on deck. There was no light visible from the captain's quarters. Thank the powers, Jeremy would be deep in his rum-soaked sleep by now.

The approaching clouds had obscured the moon and deepened the shadows on deck. The darkness hid me as I made a quick count of our longboats. Two were missing. I could guess where at least one of them had gone. Creeping up to the rail, I spied the other, still in the water, with its painter tied to the ship's ladder.

Ordinarily, this lack of discipline would have annoyed me; a ship must be kept in order for the safety of everyone aboard her. But under the circumstances, this was all rather convenient. I hurried down the ladder and, in another three minutes, was rowing to shore.

As I plied the oars I began to consider which man might be to blame for this reckless excursion. I had suspected Hector of wanting the map for himself, but in fact, he had given me no evidence of such a design. On the other hand, I had certain knowledge that Maroto felt very ill-used and possibly desperate.

Would Maroto endanger the person nearest and dearest to me for the sake of the map? Why not? What was Hector's life, when compared to his own great quest to destroy the Fountain? He could have played upon Hector's greed to convince him that they should explore the hill. I vowed to find out who was responsible and have it out with the both of them.

Fear, uncertainty, and anger were making my arms shake, and I had all I could do to keep a steady hand as the boat drew near the shore. Once I felt the hull drive into the sand I leapt out, landing in salt water that just managed to spill over the tops of my boots.

One or two scattered drops of rain landed on my face, and the wind began to freshen.

The other longboat lay beached not twenty feet away, empty. Then I saw them: two silhouettes almost at the edge of the jungle. I ran towards them.

-o-

"Halt! Before I shoot you both!" I shouted at the top of my voice.

They stopped in their tracks and waited, stock still, as I approached with pistols drawn and trained on their frozen forms. I arrived somewhat out of breath, and challenged Hector first.

"By all the powers," I demanded through gritted teeth, "What devil prompted you to venture here? Was it he?" I gestured towards Maroto with my pistol.

Maroto made as if to speak, but I instantly took aim and cocked the hammer back. "One word," I said, "and I'll drop you where you stand! I could have given you back to Spain! Is this the return I should expect?"

"Ye have it all wrong," Barbossa retorted. "I mean to destroy the map, just as ye wanted. I brought him along because the two of ye are the only ones who know the way."

There was silence for a moment as I struggled with myself; he had said the words I was hoping he would say. Now I had to believe them. But I was still smarting from his decision to go it alone.

"That was for you and I to do together," I snapped. "Now I see the real reason for your generous proposal-you wanted to keep me out of the way! Well, I won't have it!"

He shrugged. "I thought t' spare ye, because ye let a flock o' birds fright ye." There was a hint of derision in his smile. He gestured at my pistols. "An' ye can put those away unless ye mean t' kill the priest. I don't fear bein' shot, madam, and ye should well know why."

It was useless to threaten; not only was he wearing the Basilikon, but even in the heat of my anger I would no more have fired on Hector than on myself. I lowered my weapons, still glaring.

He smiled like a conqueror. "Now go back t' yer berth an' leave this t' me," he ordered. He would never have spoken to Elizabeth in this way, and that fact by itself was enough to keep my anger simmering.

"I shall do nothing of the kind," I replied hotly. "And I don't propose to be ordered about. Your choices are these: either I accompany you, or I give the alarm. If you don't like it, you can kill me."

Maroto looked from one to the other of us. I imagine he expected Hector to shoot me then and there. But Hector's scowl slowly changed into a smile, and at last he chuckled.

"Fierce as a wildcat, ain't ye?" He eased towards me, took hold of my arm and leaned close to my ear. "I know ye mean well, little bird," he whispered, his breath tickling my ear. "Hold yer peace now. Yer welcome to come along."

I put away my weapons, and my breathing became steadier. If he was ready to let me join him, then he truly must mean to destroy the map. My trust had been rewarded. Although a sense of unease lingered in me, the turbulent flood of emotions subsided.

We made our way cautiously through the undergrowth, Maroto leading the way, followed by Hector, and lastly myself. Occasionally, a flash of distant lightning would illuminate the landscape, and this was our only light. Hector had a lantern with him, but we could not light it until we were farther from the beach, so as not to be observed.

I kept close behind Hector as he chopped branches out of his way and pushed through the dense jungle with all the purposeful determination of an officer leading his troops, his mind focused on the battle ahead. Several times I was alarmed by the sound of a dead frond falling from a palm tree, or the wind stirring dry leaves, and I would strain my ears, listening for the imaginary footfalls of men or other creatures. Once, a drop of rain struck my face like a cold, lifeless fingertip, and I gasped. Hector turned for an instant with an incredulous glance at me; he was utterly unaffected by our surroundings.

When we reached the clearing, my anxieties faded perceptibly, just as they had on my first visit, almost as if I had crossed some invisible barrier. We paused while Hector lighted his lantern. In its dull, yellow light, I saw that Maroto was watching me with a very subdued expression. "You must guide us from here, señora," he said simply.

I nodded, and walked ahead as we approached the base of the hill. After a few moments of searching, I located the narrow opening to the cave, and pointed it out. Hector removed some of the debris blocking it. Holding up his lantern, he went inside for five or six minutes, then returned. "Goes to a tunnel," he said. "Too many twists and turns t' see how far it leads, or what be at the back of it." He looked at me.

If the words on my map meant anything, we needed to find the offering table. It wasn't likely to be in a tunnel. Sensing Maroto's eyes on me in the darkness, I cleared my throat and ventured an opinion. "We should climb the hill. I'm convinced there must have been a temple of some sort-a place dedicated to their nature gods."

We circled the hill until we found the place where the steps began-at least, there were four tall limestone blocks, and then another three, some distance ahead, followed by another gap. Each gap forced us to stop and search for the place the next stones were set. I didn't like to think how we would manage our descent.

Hector led the way now, and whenever he climbed a particularly steep block, he would turn back and offer his hand to me. Although I was likely more nimble than he, I knew how dearly he loved to play the gentleman. I took his hand each time, and it was as if we shared a kiss.

As we reached the broad, round top of the hill, the temperature dropped a good ten degrees within a few seconds, and I knew that rain was nearly upon us. Hector shined his lantern about, but the only structures we could see were the silhouettes of two stone arches standing about one hundred feet away at each side of the summit. We approached and examined one, which proved to be of no very great height, its stones held in place by a web of ficus roots which had grown through and around it. But there was no foundation, or any other sign of a structure.

So much for finding an "offering table". Then, just to make matters worse, there was a brilliant lightning flash, answered instantly by a terrific crack of thunder that sounded as though it were directly overhead. "Here it comes," I said, but no one heard me over the sudden noise of the downpour that burst from the heavens, drenching us to the skin in mere seconds.

Hector cursed under his breath, although he was possibly the driest of us all, since the brim of his hat gave him at least some shelter from the deluge. In contrast, Maroto and I resembled two sopping wet rodents. I surveyed our surroundings, blinking and wiping the heavy rain from my eyes, and wondering what to do next.

What I could see of the hilltop seemed wild and neglected, an expansive, weedy field that sloped gently down to form a depression in the centre, very like a shallow dish. The rain was causing rivulets to collect in this hollow, forming wide pools of water. I could see many small limestone blocks and even boulders tumbled about, half-buried in the sandy soil or sunk in the pools of rainwater. Hector's rough voice interrupted my observations.

"Don't expect me t' stand here all night," he growled. "I'm inclined to go back to that cave below."

"I want to look there first," I said, gesturing at the field, "before it's too flooded."

Hector held his lantern aloft and squinted through the rain. He looked back at the arches. "Don't ye see how they lean? Like as not, a sinkhole made the earth give way there."

But I was already searching the place, my intuition driving me forward. Soaking wet, in shadows beyond the light of Hector's lantern, I hunted amongst the broken stones, thorny vines, and the huge puddles of rain, looking for something that I could not even describe to myself.

I reached one of the larger boulders just as another flash of lightning illuminated its edge for an instant. "Bring the light!" I shouted at once. I was sure I had seen the strange symbol carved on the boulder—the serpentine image connected to the Fountain. Could this have been part of an ancient offering table? I was almost too excited to breathe.

Hector sent Maroto to bring me the lantern, and shouted at me, "Don't tarry! The rain-"

But just as he spoke, there was a sudden shift under me, and I felt the earth drop perhaps two feet. "Angels of grace," I whispered, not daring to move. I had seen sinkholes open up in Cornwall when mine shafts collapsed, and all at once I knew what was happening.

Maroto reached out for my hand. I took one step towards him.

There was a deafening roar and all the ground suddenly gave way. I screamed. Maroto toppled, sliding towards me in a torrent of sand, rock and water. In an instant, Hector and the upper world had disappeared. I was swallowed up in darkness as I fell into the earth, choking, clawing at the rubble, fighting for my life.

Next: Chapter 19 – Kingdom of the Dead – Maroto extracts a promise from Nina, and Barbossa's piratical nature proves very costly.