She's been behind bars before. At least four times now that she can remember. And each time with a very definitive sentence of 'hanged until dead' hovering over her to make it all the more depressing, too. But there's nothing quite like being thrown in the brig on her own ship by men who had, at one time, followed her all the way to the End of the world and back again. Added onto the fact that Jo looked to be in pretty bad shape, and…

There's no one around to see her. Emily lays herself in a corner, curled up tight, and cries until she sleeps.

.

She dreams of her goddess, in the cell with her.

"If yeh bot'ered more to learn de gifts yeh've been given," she speaks calmly, sitting at the other end of the cell with her legs crossed straight before her, "yeh might've known de loss of yeh memories was a problem created by magic. And, had yeh known dat, Josephine would have known not to try dat which she did."

Emily stares down at the deck beneath her, silent for several minutes. She doesn't look up when she finally decides what to say. "Will she be alright?"

"Mmm, wit' time and de proper care. Which, you can give. Wit'out it, she will not wake 'til de curse put on you is lifted."

"I can't give her anything stuck in here."

"I could fix her." The goddess replies, almost airy. "Or, I could see to it yeh are let out so you might help her yehself. De choice would be yours."

If Emily apologizes. If Emily promises to be a good little girl and practice her magic and do all that she's told, no matter how difficult. But she's not feeling very forgiving right now. In fact, she feels sick and cold and almost ready to try out her magic now, if only to see what she could do to the being across from her. Instead, she just glares up at the goddess, eyes hard. "I'll get myself out. And if I can't – suppose Jo'll just have to wait."

"My stubborn, stubborn blessed one." The goddess shakes her head, and leaves.

.

"I did have a plan. I knew you'd be in the cell at the fort. I also knew you were missing your memories." Adrienne lists off, answering questions Emily doesn't even have to ask. "This, was not part of my plan."

"I know." And Emily does. She'd pieced that much together, waking up with a clearer head. "So. What was your plan for me, then?"

Adrienne hesitates, glancing at the guards posted at the entrance to the brig. "Leave us." They do. The Frenchwoman turns back to Emily. "My plan was to wait until you were scared enough to be in a more forgiving mood. Once I thought you had reached that point… I thought we might come to some sort of understanding."

"Understanding?" Emily snorts. "With you in control of my ship?"

"Well, I could hardly captain two ships on my own, could I? Once I had back my Sapphire, I thought we could work together. With the Admiral still breathing down your back, I thought it might be…beneficial to us both. Having the promise of my help would also mean having the help of my papa."

A pause, and Emily thinks this over. "Clever." She says shortly. "But not bloody likely."

"Well. I don't blame you for being testy now." She gestures to the cell Emily is locked in. "What really happened last night?"

"I don't know." Emily decides to keep it simple. "Jo was trying to help with my memories. What she did didn't work, I spent several minutes feeling like my head might split open, and then found her like she was. That's about the sum of it."

"I believe you."

"Is that supposed to improve my mood? All that does is prove you've somehow turned my men into… mindless…" She waves her hand, unable to find the right word, then just huffs. "Look, now will you tell me what that thing 'round your neck does?"

Adrienne picks up the medallion in question, playing with it, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "Mmmm, some secrets I prefer to keep."

"Then what are you even doing down here? Just – gloating? You've won. I admit it. Leave me be."

"Now, where would be the fun in that?"

Emily glares. Adrienne turns to go, a smirk playing at her lips. "You might wish to start being a little less hostile, capitaine. We still have quite a ways to go, after all, and certainly there are plenty of islands left between here and Spain."

Emily's stomach drops at this, but damned if she's going to let Adrienne know it. "Maybe you should try being a little more original, eh?" She snaps back, snarky.

Adrienne's cold laughter is the only response.

"Would you really, though?" Riley asks, forcing his tone to be more curious than anything else. "I mean… is that really what you want? Her dead?"

"Well, I do suppose she is just clever enough to be more useful alive. And really, that is saying something." They're in Emily's cabin. Captain LaBelle has been picking through the mess that's been made of it.

"My argument exactly, if I may be so bold as to make one."

Captain LaBelle throws the cushions back onto the window seat and drapes herself across it. "This ship is lovely. I'd be quite jealous if I did not have my Sapphire."

Riley snorts softly, unable to help himself. The Frenchwoman raises her brows at him. He scowls a bit. "Forgive me, Captain. Just seems to me like you'll end up jealous of her for something, one way or the other."

Amusement flashes across her eyes. "You may not believe it, but I have nothing against Emily. At least, nothing of a personal nature. I told you why I am doing this. If I have truly bested her and that is the end of it, then I will let her go when this is over. If not – then I will do what I must to come out on top. But trust when I say it would bring me no pleasure to see her dead. In another life, I think the two of us could have been friends."

Riley shakes his head. "Look at it from her perspective, though. This isn't the end, Captain." He warns. "Knowing her, it's just the beginning."

"Mmm." She nods, slowly. "To tell you the truth, ma chérie, I would be disappointed in her if it was not."

Riley tries not to bristle at the endearment. Deciding he's had all he can stand of the Frenchwoman for the moment, he leaves.

It's ironic, really. If not for the guards – again, her own men – keeping such a sharp eye on her, she'd be quite tempted to pass the time practicing her magic. As it is, she doesn't think she'll get away with that considering what got her in here the first place. Riley comes down a few times, but doesn't have much to say. Again, possibly because of the guards. He does bring her down some of her books to read.

("You're more amazing than you know. I think the boredom alone shall drive me mad down here."

"Drive you…I feel the need to inform you that that might be an exceedingly short trip, darling."

"You're lucky you're handsome. Cheeky ginger bilge rat.")

She keeps hoping Joshy might come down to see her. He never does.

She loses track of time after a while. Or, more like she stops bothering to keep track so much, as it really does begin to drive her bonkers. But she knows it's been weeks when Riley comes down with a bit more authority than he'd previously possessed and turns to the men standing guard.

"Leave us." He says with a firmness that impresses Emily, and they do.

"Well." She says, not bothering to stand from where she's managed to make herself somewhat comfortable at the back of her cell. "Captain LaBelle is being good to you, then, isn't she?"

He rolls his eyes. "Only because I've taken a page out of your book and somehow got her thinking I'm enjoying the sight of you in here as much as she is. Honestly, I'm beginning to scare myself."

"Mmmm, I've taught you well." She says, feeling a vaguely twisted sort of pride.

He shakes his head, but looks amused. "I suppose, at the moment, I ought to be thanking you for that, but anyway, that's not what I came down here for." He gestures for her to come closer. She sets down the book she'd been reading and makes her way over to face him. He goes on, tone a bit more hushed. "There's something stranger going on here than I think you first thought."

"That would be saying something."

"I stole a peek at the course she plotted out for us. There is no island where we're headed. Unless – did you already know that?"

Emily just blinks. "No. I mean – I gave her the compass, at the time I had no reason to think there was anything off yet."

"Well, there are no islands this side of Spain that I could see. I think…that may be why you're still here."

"Not sure I follow."

"If this island's not on any map by now, maybe that's because no one can see it? I don't know, but I think getting to it will require your magic."

"Good to know I won't outlive my usefulness for a while yet, but that's not particularly comforting." Emily runs a hand through her hair. "I don't think I like the idea of an island that can't normally be found. We're getting dangerous close to history repeating itself here…"

"Yes – well, let's not go doomsday just yet, shall we?"

She shrugs. "If you're right, if she does need me for a real reason…that is good, I suppose. I can work with that, maybe." A pause, and she has to work up to asking the next thought that flitters across her mind. "Jo." She hesitates. "Any change?"

He softens a bit. "No. Which – isn't good, certainly, but at least she doesn't appear to be any worse off than she was."

Emily looks down so he won't see the guilt she feels in abundance for this. "She could end up just like that forever."

"Hey. We've had that conversation already. It wasn't your fault."

"Maybe, if I'd been smart enough to at least learn my magic better – I mean, I didn't have to use it so much, did I? Just had to get a better feel for it."

He reaches throw the bars as far as he can, pulling her chin up gently. "It wasn't. Your fault. And even if it was, I have a feeling all our answers are waiting for us at our destination. We'll put it all to rights before this is over."

She snorts softly. "You're too much the optimist. I don't know how you keep it up."

He smiles back. "By remembering that my best bets are on the woman who escaped the Admiral two times before she was even eight and ten years. If nothing else, Peg Leg Turner, I believe that your ridiculous amount of pure, dumb luck couldn't possibly have run out just yet. I mean, you are the one who keeps pointing your Uncle out for reference…"

"My Uncle waited ten years before it all came full circle with Adrienne's father."

"Is that you admitting defeat?"

"No." She says, decisive and abruptly cold as she thinks on it all. A feeling she's not over used to races like fire through her veins – blood lust, pure and intense in a way she's not sure she's felt it since the last time she'd seen the Admiral. "That's me promising that'll I'll wait just as long if I have to, but believe me. Turning my own brother against me? Adrienne will pay for all of this."

"Now that, sounds more like you."

He leans in, and they manage a kiss between the bars of her cell before he takes his leave.

Emily feels it long before there are any visible signs. The magic is so strong, creating such chaos; it raises the hairs on her neck. She's never felt anything like it before. The skies outside are bright and clear, but she already knows what's coming. Riley had been right. Getting to the island would require magic.

It's a few hours yet before Adrienne makes her appearance. She hasn't come down since the conversation they'd had on Emily's first morning in the brig. To spite the fact that Emily's spent the past weeks cursing her to the depths and then lower, she finds she has nothing to say when the Frenchwoman pauses a moment to eye her up.

Adrienne doesn't seem in a talking mood either. "Bring her." She says simply, tossing the keys to the men guarding Emily.

They do.

The sun is blinding for all that she's scarce gotten any of it in weeks – the brig has two very small barred windows, and both of them are opposite Emily's cell. She stands a moment and squints into it before the guards hurry her along, up to the helm to accompany Adrienne. The feelings worse now that she's out in the open, and it only gets worse as she takes in the source. Though the Queen is resting in calm waters, the sun bright and warm, there's a storm raging a few leagues out. Fierce enough to be considered a hurricane, clouds thick and rain pouring down in steady sheets as lightning strikes and thunder rolls. It's unnervingly unnatural, too contained and so dark nothing past it can be seen. It's almost enough to have her pointing out that perhaps, just maybe, there's a good reason why the island's so protected…but they've come too far now for Adrienne to think about turning back.

"Alright." Emily ventures. "What now, then?"

Adrienne waves her over to where there's a book set up on a barrel, a very familiar book. One of Jo's spell books. The men holding Emily let her go, but hover close by as she makes a wary trek over to join the Frenchwoman. "Clear the way." She says simply.

Brows furrowing, Emily reads over the page the book is open to. Apparently, whatever spells been cast on the island isn't one that can be done by a mortal witch like Emily or Jo, not on the scale they're working with here. But there is a way to counter it. The counter is simple enough – Emily has only to cite a simple chant, and some manner of sacrifice has to be thrown into the waters to honor whatever god is responsible for the strange island.

"Can you do it?" Adrienne asks, impatient.

"Sounds easy enough." Emily hesitates. "Any idea what kind of sacrifice we need?"

"Mmm, I think that is what the handful of jewels I found on my Sapphire was for. I have found a substitute."

Knowing she'll get no more information even if she pries, Emily just nods. Throwing up her hands, she turns so she's facing the chaos spread out before them. Allowing the dam to open, she throws up her hands as the familiar pressure builds. She mutters the chant, pronouncing the strange words as best she knows how, and the power travels up through her arms to coat her hands. A moment passes, she continues chanting, and the power builds until it explodes out in two steady streams, shooting forward to mix with the darkness of the storm. The sight is beautiful. Bluish strands of light whirl around as though caught in the winds, and then travel up along the bolts of lightning to dance through the black clouds shrouding the sky.

She finishes the chant, and that seems to be it. The power she'd built up is all used, suggesting she doesn't need any more. A light wave of dizziness overtakes her as her hands drop – that took more out of her than she'd been expecting, but she steadies herself easy enough. Nothing she can't handle. She continues to watch the spectacle her magic has created as she opens her mouth to ask what's next…and freezes, eyes widening when she hears the distinct sound of a pistol being cocked.

Oh. Bugger.

She turns around slow, eyes trailing down to stare at the weapon now aimed at her. It's her own pistol. Her stomach drops. She opens her mouth but no sound comes out. Out of the corner of her eye she sees Riley move half an inch forward, and she remembers herself enough to glance sharply at him. Riley Connelly, for the love of…DON'T do anything stupid.

He stops. What can he do, anyway?

"I wasn't going to do this." Adrienne says, calm. "It is possible we could have found another way, I think, but there would be no guaranteeing it would work. And Riley – he's clever, this one – he pointed out that leaving you alive would only give you the chance to ruin all this for me. And I can't have that, can I?"

"Ad-Adrienne." Emily stutters, but can't think – nothing comes to mind, no good argument. "Please." Is all that makes it past her lips. "Please."

Something flashes behind the Frenchwoman's too-blue eyes, regret or guilt or...well, whatever it is, it's gone too quick to be identified. It's replaced by cold determination. And…

Emily doesn't remember hearing the pistol fire. Nor can she remember feeling too much pain. She just feels – cold. Cold and numb. Looking down in shock, she really can't believe it. Can't understand that the blood blossoming on her blouse is her own; that there's a hole in her own chest. She stumbles back, her legs giving out, runs into the rail. She's beyond comprehending whatever else happens after this. Somehow she ends up in the water – and after that, it all goes quite dark.

.

Her last thought is of Alex. Because of course it would be of him. Him and that New England farm and the pretty little English lily he'll be sharing it with instead of Emily.

He wouldn't grieve for her overmuch, she suspects. But that had been the point of letting him go, the one thing she'd managed to get exactly right. So she hopes he won't, if he ever even finds out.

And then, she closes her eyes, and lets it all go.

Riley's stomach lurches as the shot rings out. He keeps himself from going to her, but only just. There's nothing he can do. Blood blossoms on her blouse, she's looking down to watch it with eyes wide and mouth moving, though no sound makes it past her lips. She stumbles back, hits the rail of the ship, collapses.

Captain LaBelle nods at her first mate. He and another man move forward, picking up Emily's slight frame with ease, and just like that, she's gone. There's a splash and the men who'd just thrown her overboard watch a moment before turning back to their captain and shaking their heads. It's all over.

Gone. She's gone. Dead. Riley's hands shake and he feels as though he may be sick. How can she be dead? The rest of the crew don't look as thrilled as it had seemed they would be either. In fact, they look considerably unsettled, to say the least. Could it be that watching Emily…that seeing what they've just seen was enough to wake them up a bit?

Captain LaBelle's not paying attention to any of them, though. Her eyes are fixed straight ahead, into the storm – which parts like a curtain. A smile almost graces her lips, but it seems even she has the decency to be a little more solemn after what's just been done. She nods once, throwing her shoulders back as she addresses the crew. "Take us through, gents! No cost will have been too high for what awaits us, this I promise you!"

They hesitate. For the first time in weeks of Captain LaBelle being in charge, they properly hesitate. But now's not the time. The treasure that awaits them will in no way make up for the loss of Emily, at least not for Riley, but it's better than nothing and he still wants answers to all of this, and only Captain LaBelle can get them there. Riley clears his throat and steps forward, standing tall. "You heard the lady!" He barely recognizes his own voice, low and gruff as it comes out. "Get to work!"

Captain LaBelle sends a nod of thanks in his direction before taking the helm. He meets her eyes, steady as he can manage, then stalks past her and down the steps. He needs a moment to – just, to think. He ends up half stumbling over to the rail and staring down into the water, hoping for some sign of Emily. You owe me. You owe me too much you miserable, selfish little hellcat. I'd call it all even if you could just – Captain, please. Don't be dead.

There's no sign of her, of course. He'd seen the blood. She's gone and he knows it and it turns his stomach.

"Connelly." A voice croaks out, scratchy but familiar.

He spins around. "Miss Gibbs!" Eyes wide, he shoots forward to offer the older woman some support. She's teetering precariously as she tries to cross the deck to him.

Her skin is ghostly pale. Cheeks, normally full and dimpled, are now sunken and shadowed, and there are deep bruises beneath her eyes. "Where's Peg. I need to – I know what's wrong, I have to tell her…"

He's not sure she can handle what he has to tell her now, not in the state she's in. "You're not well." He begins leading her back below decks. "Let's get you…"

"No, please, I need to see her. Where is she?"

"She's…" He trails off. He's not sure he could get the word out even if he thought she was ready to hear it. "Busy. Look, I'll explain, but you need rest and water and food, you look like the living dead."

As he leads her below decks a familiar pair of big green eyes find his, wide and worried and unsure and quite possibly shining with unshed tears. Joshy looks as though he really can't decide what he's feeling at the moment, and with all that's gone on, Riley can't blame him. But he can only handle one problem at a time. He sends the boy an apology with his eyes, and leads Miss Gibbs away.

.

"How long…" She asks as he bustles about, trying to find her some sustenance. They are in the galley; he'd tried to take her back down to her cabin, but she'd refused. Conceding that he did have a point, water and food were what she needed, she'd allowed him to half carry her down and seat her at a table while he got her some of each. "How long was I out?" He places a mug on the table before her and a plate with hard bread and an apple, along with a bowl of the porridge they'd had for breakfast that morning – not much, maybe, but it'll do. She's not complaining. The bread disappears in moments. He hesitates, and she raises a brow at him. "I gather it was a while, lad, just come out with it."

"Weeks." He replies.

She nods, tucking into the porridge. "That's a powerful spell. Then again, I should've expected as much. Goddess knows nothing with Peg is ever easy, eh? Is she alright? I imagine it didn't feel too good on her end either."

She's starting to come alive again. He watches as she puts away the porridge, bites into the apple, gulps down half the mug of water at once. There's color already returning to her too-thin cheeks, helped along, no doubt, by that goddess she and Emily talk about so much. "No." He replies feebly. "Left her awful sick. Feeling like her head was fit to burst, or so she said, and dizzy."

"But she's alright now?" He can't answer. Miss Gibbs starts to look worried. "What is it, what's wrong?"

"A lot – a lots happened." He starts, voice low and gruff again. There's a thought inching its way to the front of his mind, an idea not fully formed, but he knows he needs to be hard now. "When we found the two of you that night, it didn't look good. Peg was trying to heal you, but it looked like you'd fought maybe, the room was a mess. The men thought you were bewitched by her, under some manner of spell done on purpose. Captain LaBelle had her locked up, in the brig."

Miss Gibbs leans back in her chair, eyes wide. She runs her hands over her face. "By the old gods. She's been locked up down there all this time?" She gets to her feet, much steadier now. "I have to go talk to her."

He shoots to his feet, blocking her way, and was she always so… She's lost weight being laid up in that strange coma, is unhealthy thin. That's got to be why she seems so small to him of a sudden. Shaking his head, he gestures back to the chair she'd been sitting in. "Sit back down. That wasn't all I had to tell you."

Her hands come up to plant themselves on her hips. "Now you're worrying me. Spit it out."

"Sit." He demands. She huffs, but does as she's told. He sits as well, rakes a hand through his hair. "The island has a spell of protection around it, in the form of a hurricane. The only way to get through is with magic – and that was the only reason Captain LaBelle was keeping her alive." He shakes his head, looks away. "Miss Gibbs. Emily's… Emily's dead."

The only woman he's met that's as tough as Jo Gibbs is Emily herself – the older woman is silent for a long moment, and then her fists clench as she nods once. "Aye, then." Her voice shakes, but only a little. "So what are we doing about it?"

"I don't know." His voice still hasn't cracked, not once. "It's just happened, all at once. I just know…" He reaches down into his boot and takes out a dagger, bringing it up to inspect it. Its – it was Emily's. He'd nicked it from her cabin around the time she'd been locked up. That idea from earlier is starting to come together now. "I just know we can't let her get away with all of this."

Miss Gibbs eyes the dagger. "Adrienne's no fool. She'll be watching you, expecting you'll be upset."

"Oh, and I am. But not in the way she's expecting." He leans forward, fiddling with the dagger a little. "If we can have her believing that we are, both of us, glad that Peg's gone… After all, she did bewitch you. And, as it happens, Captain LaBelle already thinks I hate Peg more than any of you."

"You're starting to sound like…" A hint of amusement lights up her eyes a bit, until she trails off. Like Peg, is what she was going to say. She takes a breath. "If nothing else, Addy'll get us to this treasure, I suppose. But what then?"

"The men – they didn't look happy when Peg went down. Quite the opposite. Whatever spell Captain LaBelle's had you all under, they're starting to shake it off – and it sounds like you are too."

"Spell?" Miss Gibbs pauses as though thinking, a hand coming up to bury itself in her raven curls. "Curse, more like. Aye. S'ppose that would explain quite a bit."

"More than you know. Why do you think we've seen nothing of Joshy yet? We just watched Captain LaBelle shoot Peg right through the heart, he should be…" Riley slumps back in his chair. "She died believing her own brother hated her. She'd promised to wait years if she had to, to get revenge just for that on its own."

"And she'll have it." Miss Gibbs replies, hazel eyes hard as he's ever seen them. "Even if we have to make it happen."

Riley slips the dagger back into his boot and stands. "Well then, Miss Gibbs. I'd say we'd best go see our lovely new Captain."

Ok, this little story arch is ending up a whole lot bigger than I intended, but I'm too tired at the moment to be worried about it. Anyway, hope you enjoyed the overdue update! :)