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

Chapter 22

The Spectre Barque

As the minutes ticked by, my fingers cramped and my arms grew heavy from the effort of clutching the ladder. Yet if I released it for even an instant the boat would drift away in the fog, and I would be lost. The strain on my muscles began to make them burn, and I glanced about for some way to tie the boat to the Berwick's ladder. The only rope in our boat lay coiled in the bow, too far for me to reach without letting go of the ladder. I strained my ears hoping to hear the thump of Hector's boots returning to the gangway, but there was no sound from the ship.

My head began to droop, and my gaze rested absently on the narrow scarf I always wore tied at my waist. Tia Dalma's silken spancel! I gave a little gasp of relief-this was better than any ordinary rope, having the power to bind things together with magic. With one hand I untied the spancel, then looped it about one of the ladder's steps and knotted it tightly around the nearest oarlock.

With the boat thus secured, I sat down and rubbed my arms. Something was pressed against my boot, and my spirits instantly sank as I realised I had nearly trod on the golden tablet.

My promises to Maroto weighed upon my heart like a stone slab, and I reproached myself for my shortcomings. I should have gone back to the island when he asked. I should not have confided in Hector. I should have made sure the map was destroyed. Maroto had been wrong to place his faith in me, and he had paid with his life.

I stared at the tablet, wondering why I seemed to balk at every chance to destroy it. I was letting Maroto down even at this very moment by not heaving it into the sea. Why not do it now, when Hector couldn't stop me?

But I had chosen to tell Hector about the map because I wanted no secrets between us. I had made him my partner in this venture. I was determined to persuade him that the Fountain was a cheat and a danger to all mankind. Then we would destroy the map-together.

I eyed the tablet uneasily. Until I was satisfied that Hector agreed with my purpose, I decided that the best course of action was to keep it with me. Sliding it under my shirt, I winced at the sting of its cold surface against my skin, and folded my arms across my chest. I muttered a few words to Maroto's ghost, wherever he might be. "I won't let you down this time, Padre. And once the map is gone, I promise to find Ponce de Leon and get that sword away from him." I sighed. "Somehow…"

Just then there was movement on the ladder, making the boat bump awkwardly against the Berwick. Hector's boots appeared on the rungs as he climbed down. He descended halfway, then looked about and spied me sitting nearby.

"Not a soul on her," he said. "She's safe t' board. Where be the map?" He surveyed the boat.

"I have it," I patted my shirt. "Let's be off then."

I followed him up the ladder, stopping to untie the spancel. By the time I had climbed three rungs higher, the Medusa's boat had already floated away into the fog.

-o-

Under the circumstances, it was a relief to board any sort of ship, even one whose former crew had suffered a sinister and unexplained fate. The Berwick was our best chance for survival, and my faith in Hector's seamanship was absolute. When I stepped onto the deck, he was already holding the sounding line. I stood behind him while he swung its lead weight and threw it into the sea, and we counted out the fathoms together. At last he shook his head.

"Too deep fer a proper anchor," he said. "We'll make a sea anchor-bind up a sail and let it drag behind the ship."

This would keep the Berwick more or less in the same area, but I was tiring. "It seems a deal of trouble. The seas are quite calm here."

He frowned. "Aye, there be no rough seas nor sharp rocks t' trouble us, but the one thing ye don't want is t' drift in the fog from a place that's safe to a place that ain't."

I nodded, but was seized by a sudden notion that our marriage was not unlike the Berwick—no rough seas or sharp rocks, as long as I kept to matters on which we agreed. What would happen when I brought up the map?

We tied a spare sail into a funnel, secured it to a long line, and let it down into the water. As we watched the line grow taut, I noticed that the sun was brightening; morning was burning off the fog.

Hector glanced at the sky. "'Tis clearin' now. I need a quadrant t' sight the sun. Likely we'll find one in the captain's quarters."

We made our way there and found it in the same state of disarray as on our previous visit. Although the scattered papers had been removed by Jeremy, the ransacked cupboards and slashed mattress still bore witness to his crew's mutiny.

Hector made for the ship's charts, but I stopped him. "First let me see your head."

This seemed to amuse him, but he paused and allowed me to remove his hat. Just under his headscarf was a thick ridge of dried blood surrounded by a swollen purple bruise. I winced at the sight. Perhaps he feared I would coddle him, for he pulled back, yanking his headscarf down. "Now ye've seen it. Time we got t' work." He resumed organising the charts, and I started searching for navigational tools.

Once I located the brass quadrant, Hector went on deck to take the measurements that would tell us our latitude. Leaving the navigation in his hands, I set myself to tidy the rest of the cabin.

I had just finished smoothing what remained of the mattress and securing it with extra bedsheets, when I glanced at the floor and spied a bit of paper caught under the edge of a cupboard.

Pulling it out, I saw a few words written in Jeremy's hand. It must have come from one of his letters. I crumpled it and dropped it into my pocket, feeling as though an unwelcome guest had surprised me.

I hated to think of how Jeremy had triumphed over me so easily. I had been warned against him long ago. I knew he was a dangerous man, fond of exploiting his opponent's weakness.

What was the weakness in me that allowed him to blind me to his true purpose?

I sighed at the obvious answer: he had discovered my high regard for the Messenger Service. I thought it could do no wrong. I was honoured to be part of such an elite corps.

Set on proving my worth, I had accepted everything Jeremy said without question. Why should he deceive me? Were we not both servants of the Crown?

Trusting and unwary, I hadn't seen him for what he was. I hadn't seen the tiger in the tall grass, watching me.

Hector had been wiser. He was sceptical of Jeremy's intentions from the start, and had wanted to examine my orders. And I had been too insulted to oblige him.

How easily Jeremy had divided us! No doubt he hoped that the dancing woman would be the final straw, and he was almost right. But he hadn't reckoned on Hector's tenacity.

After I broke with him, Hector had worked to reclaim my heart, and I loved him for it. Loved him beyond what I had thought possible. And now at last we were free of Jeremy. Only one problem remained. I touched its smooth, icy edge, resting uncomfortably against my ribs. If only I could be sure that Hector wanted me more than the golden tablet.

I looked for a place to hide it, and my eye fell upon the torn mattress. I hurriedly tucked the tablet safely beneath it.

The rattle of the door latch made me jump.

Hector entered and approached the chart table. "What ails ye?" he asked, giving me an odd look.

"Nothing. Only…you startled me." I moved towards the chart table.

"Who were ye expectin'?" he said with a wry smile. He began calculating our position, leaning over the table as he worked.

"I thought we might check the ship's stores and see what there is to eat," I said, but he shook his head.

"Later." He wrote some numbers on the chart and I watched him work, thinking how handsome and capable he looked. When he finished, he straightened himself and turned to me.

"We'll set a course due west," he said. "If the weather holds, I'll sight the angle o' the stars at twilight. After that, I'll be wantin' victuals" -he traced my throat with his fingers- "an' some time with me missus." He grasped me by the shoulders and kissed me, then held me off with a grin. "Now let's see how well she sails."

-o-

A ship that is not being steered will naturally turn into the wind until the air spills from her sails and she stops moving. With no pressure on the sail, it is light work to set it, and so we unfurled the Berwick's foresail and set it with ease. I looked at it doubtfully as it sagged, airless, over the bowsprit.

"We'll catch the wind when I turn the ship," Hector assured me. We heaved up our improvised anchor, and he took the wheel. He put the rudder over and coaxed the ship to turn just a little bit. The wind was light, but gradually our ship began to answer to the helm, and at last the sail flapped promisingly.

He called out a few instructions to me and I adjusted the lines, as the sail came under more pressure from the wind. When the canvas filled and stretched, and the Berwick gained headway, I felt a great surge of happiness. We had done this together, Hector and I. Surely we must be destined to face life the same way.

He steered the Berwick for more than an hour, then handed the wheel to me. "Tell me when ye've had enough, an' I'll take her back," he said.

I stepped in front of him and grasped the wheel handles. "Do you remember the day you let me steer the Pearl? You stood so close behind me it was a wonder I didn't instantly succumb to you."

He pressed against my back, his arms wrapped about my waist. "Hold her steady," he murmured, his whiskers tickling my ear. "This be what I wanted t' do that day." Then he began kissing and nuzzling the crook of my neck and caressing my breasts in a way that was sure to lead to trouble. I leaned against him and almost let go the wheel.

"Steady, I said!" he scolded me. "If ye lose the wind, I'll make ye get out an' push!"

I laughed and corrected our course. "Apologies, my love. But I claim the same liberties when you take the wheel again! I shall see how well you do!"

"When I take the wheel again? Who says I'm not keepin' ye here 'til we make land?"

As the afternoon wore on, we continued to banter and sport with each other in similar fashion, our spirits growing lighter by the hour. I was very reluctant to leave him as the sun began to set, but I needed to find victuals to supply our dinner. At last, with a deep, lingering kiss, I went below and left him at the wheel.

-o-

The Berwick's stores yielded much that should have been spoilt, but was somehow as fresh as the day it had been brought to the ship. An air of enchantment hung heavily in the galley, but whether it was for good or evil I couldn't say. I concocted a savoury pie that chiefly featured potatoes and root vegetables, and found a wheel of cheese and some apples, though sadly not green ones. Jack had taken the rum, but we were well supplied with brandy, and I set out several bottles on the table.

When all was ready, I notified my captain. Setting out our sea anchor once more, we returned to the captain's quarters. He smiled at the humble fare I had assembled, and we quickly took our seats and fell to eating. I was weighing how to approach the subject of the map when he brought it up himself towards the end of our meal.

"One more swig," he said, pouring out more brandy, "an' I'll sight the stars with that quadrant." He paused. "The map we took were a map o' the heavens-bring it out an' let me have a look at it."

"Why?" I asked without looking up from my plate. "We're not bound for the Fountain of Youth."

"I fancy a look nonetheless," he said impatiently. "Where'd ye hide it?"

I carefully pushed my plate back, then extended my upturned hands to him. He clasped them in a way that made me think of true lovers knots tied across the table.

"It's safe for now," I said. "But I made a promise to destroy it."

"We can destroy it later," he argued. "Afterwards."

"Afterwards?" I repeated. "After you perform the ritual and steal another man's life? Are you truly that sort of robber? The Fountain won't let you go-'afterwards' will be too late. You'll always need the next ritual, the next victim."

He scowled. "I was cursed by Cortés' gold, an' yet here I stand. And ye got all this from Maroto-who lied to ye."

"He didn't-"

"Then where be Ponce de Leon?" he retorted. "Didn't Maroto say he'd be nearby? What other lies did he tell ye?"

I released his hands. "I won't give you the map. You may not care a louse, but I do." I stood up and began pacing about the cabin. "Do you know my deepest fear? It's that you will be cursed and this time there will be no way back for you-none! It won't be like Cortés' gold. Tia Dalma isn't here to put things right. You'll be another sort of creature afterwards-a vampire whose life comes from the deaths of others!"

He made no reply, but his mouth twisted down at the corners and he looked very displeased indeed.

I nearly trembled as I waited. Until I had put my fear into words, I had not really thought what it would do to me to lose Hector in that way. It was all I could do to maintain my composure.

After what seemed an eternity, he yawned and stretched. "Well, if ye won't give it t' me, there's naught t' be said, is there?" He put his hat on the table and rose from his chair. "'Tis time I had a bit o' rest." He managed a tight smile at me, and laid himself down in the captain's berth.

My throat became dry as I watched him, hoping he wouldn't feel anything odd under the mattress. Too late, I realised what an absurd hiding place I had chosen. I settled into my chair and waited for him to fall asleep.

After some time, his breathing changed and I guessed that he was sleeping. I called his name several times, first softly, then a bit louder. The only response from Hector was a steady snore.

I rose quietly and crept over to the berth. And waited.

I inhaled and held my breath as I made my hand as flat as possible and slid it under the mattress. A moment later I located the tablet, pinched it between my fingers, and began to work it stealthily towards me. At that moment, I happened to raise my eyes.

Hector was watching me.

I jumped back with the tablet in hand as he lunged for my wrist.

"I knew ye'd go to it the moment ye thought me asleep," he declared. "What d' ye take me for anyways?"

Anger flamed in my chest. "I take you for what you are-a trickster and deceiver!"

He narrowed his eyes. "Fine words from a wench who's keepin' the map fer herself!"

My jaw dropped. "Is that what you think? I hid it to protect you. You're the one always looking for gain! You, and Jack-and Jeremy too! No matter what I do, by the powers, you're hell-bent on dooming yourself!"

He reached for the tablet.

"Not one step closer!" I cried, my back against the door.

"Or what?" he growled.

I sprinted from the cabin and he chased me to the railing. His hands seized my shoulders and he spun me to face him. I lost my grip on the tablet. It skated across the deck and we both dove for it. But we were too late-it had gone over the edge of the gangway, and disappeared beneath the sea.

For a moment, the shock of it all paralysed us both. We lay on the deck, staring at the spot where the tablet had fallen from the ship. Inwardly I still burned with anger, and it was now tinged with a fierce exultation because the tablet was lost forever. Then I looked at Hector.

He glared at me, as angry as the day he had threatened my life twelve years ago. "I swear to ye," he said, moving close and emphasising his words with an admonitory finger under my nose, "ye won't keep me from the Fountain. I'll stand there with or without ye! I'll stand there if I have t' kill Jack Sparrow and take Sao Feng's map." He glared for a moment as if he'd like to throttle me, then stomped off to the cabin.

I was so shaken I could barely breathe. All my limbs seemed frozen, and I remained where I was until the cabin door slammed behind him. Then I staggered to my feet and leaned on the railing as I stared across the water and tried to collect my wits.

Perhaps it was all for the best. I had my answer now-he had never valued me more than the tablet. And although the tablet was beyond our reach, there would always be a new treasure, a new scheme that would mean more to him. At least I knew where I stood.

All my emotions, good and bad, had drained away like a well running dry. I was surprised at how calm I felt until I realised I wasn't calm-I was deadened. I debated whether to join him, and at last made my way to the cabin, walking like a mourner in a funeral procession.

-o-

He was abed when I entered, lying on his side with eyes closed, but I knew he wasn't asleep. Though I was no longer fearful for my safety, I could not bring myself to get into the bed or even draw near him. I settled myself in a chair.

After a moment, he opened his eyes and surveyed me with an unfriendly expression. "So be yer promises fulfilled now?" he asked. "Or should I expect more?"

I studied my hands before answering, and decided that I may as well tell him all. "Maroto wanted me to stop Ponce de Leon and destroy the Fountain. He told me everything when we were waiting for you in the cave." I looked up to see if he had heard enough.

"Go on," he said.

"Ponce de Leon can't be killed, but he'll die if he's kept away from the Fountain. His time will run out and he won't be able to perform the ritual. He sails his ship with something called the Sword of Triton – that's why he doesn't need a crew. No sword, no way to sail the ship. No way to sail the ship, no way to get to the Fountain. I was to ask him for the sword. Maroto was convinced he would give it up."

Barbossa looked thoughtful. "The Sword o' Triton, ye say?"

Of course, I thought. Another treasure. "It hardly matters," I shrugged. "Who knows where to find Ponce de Leon? Perhaps it really was just a tale. I certainly can't find him."

Hector seemed about to speak, but I put an end to our discussion.

"I think I've had enough of this mission." I propped my feet on another chair and slumped down, my hands folded across my stomach. "Pleasant dreams," I said as I closed my eyes.

I dozed fitfully in my makeshift berth, waking several times from vaguely alarming dreams that I could never quite recall.

Each time I woke, I heard Hector snoring, but the fourth time, I also heard a footstep on deck that frightened me so badly I was fully alert at once, though my eyes were still shut. There was another step, and the cabin door opened softly. Keeping perfectly still, I slowly opened my eyes, just enough to see.

Then I sat up, holding my breath as my eyes slowly widened.

A very aged man was standing in the doorway, leaning on a pike, and dressed in the armour of a bygone era. His dark eyebrows creased together under the peak of an old fashioned morion helmet, and his face was gaunt, with deep furrows in his forehead and a generally pale and wasted appearance. He wore the breastplate of a foot soldier from the days of the Spanish explorers, and regarded me with a mournful expression in his brown eyes. He seemed almost embarrassed to find himself here. Motionless, we gazed at each other for what seemed a very long time. Then I rose from my chair and spoke to him in a whisper.

"Maroto? Is that you?"

Next: Parley – A meeting of two captains.