"Yeh didn't really t'ink I'd let yeh go so easy, did yeh?" The voice belongs to her goddess.

Emily's raises her eyebrows, looking around calmly. Ok. Where is she, then? She's standing in the doorway to a small hut, creaking and run down. Stealing a glance behind her, she sees a rickety balcony and some steps leading down to a small dock. It's a river bank they're on. She can just make out the trees on the other side, tall and massive and draped in Spanish moss. She's nowhere near Spain anymore, though. The air here is just different enough to tell her she's closer to home where she's standing now.

There are lights flickering, dotted among the swampy jungle. Emily shivers at the feeling that she's being watched.

Cradling her left arm delicately, she wanders further into the hut. It's full of all sorts of exceedingly strange odds and ends. Jars hang down, things like snakes and frogs preserved within them. She thinks better of inspecting them any closer when she notes one that could very well be full of eyeballs. Skirting around them, slow and tentative, she comes to face her goddess.

Calypso looks different here. She's taken on a form much closer to the one Emily's parents described first encountering her in, some sort of ragged voodoo queen.

"I did wonder." She answers the goddess finally. "Just for a moment there." But then, that had been the point of her punishment.

"Yehr mother would t'row me a fit if I allowed yeh to end up in her care." The goddess beckons her forward, gesturing to a chair next to where she's seated at a small table.

"Mmm, suppose this is the easier way to go for you then?" Emily sits, careful not to jostle her arm too much but hissing as a sharp pain shoots down it from her shoulder anyway.

The goddess gives her a sharp look. "It would save us all de trouble if yeh would only learn not to be so stubborn." She reaches forward and pulls Emily's shirt away from her wound, brushing it off her shoulder.

Emily looks down, grimacing at the sight. The bullet is still there. A few inches further down and it would've hit what she assumes was its intended target – her heart. "Damn."

Her goddess had already prepared for this. There's a bowl of water with a rag, and a cup full of – something. Emily doesn't question anything as her goddess begins dabbing at the area around the wound with the rag. She winces a few times.

"Brace yehrself. Yeh know as well as I dere is no way to do dis wit'out pain."

For a goddess there probably is, but Emily doesn't question, never questions. She clutches at the chairs armrest and closes her eyes. Her goddess uses magic to make a quicker job of it, but the pain is still sharp and intense as the bullet works its way out. She sucks in a sharp breath and holds it, not sure she can let it go without crying out. Its over soon enough, though, and the pain subsides again, becoming more bearable than it was to begin with. She relaxes slowly, opening her eyes.

Her goddess takes the cup with its unknown mixture and shoots into it a small spark of magic before handing it off to Emily. "Drink."

The taste is bitter. Emily suspects her goddess left it that way on purpose, but knows better than to complain. She manages to get it down, and is soon glad she did. Whatever the mixture was, combined with the magic it sends her shoulder to mending itself. The sensation is strange and again quite painful, but over as quick as if Emily were still immortal. She rolls her shoulder when it seems to be over, and the only sign of the wound left over is a distinct scar.

Emily touches the scar on her cheek and sighs at the fresh one on her shoulder. Add it to my growing collection. "Will you send me back?"

Her goddess nods. "But I warn yeh, de troubles yeh facin' started wit' magic, so wit' magic yeh will have to end it all."

Emily huffs, but nods, resigned. "I know." Getting to her feet, she dips into a curtsy, albeit only halfway. "My goddess. Thank you."

Her goddess waves a hand, as though sending Emily halfway across the world is effortless. Probably it is, for a goddess. Emily closes her eyes, and waits.

.

She pops back into existence rather abrupt, way out in the water. She's not unused to such sudden scenery changes by now, though; this is rather routine when dealing with her goddess. She starts swimming.

She drags herself ashore on a beach that stretches as far as the eye can see in either direction. The island is beautiful in that same vibrant, too-bright, over-colorful way that Calypso's paradise is. Emily allows herself to stand and take it in a moment as she catches her breath, then spins around to scan the waters surrounding it. There are three ships anchored, each well out of the others way, but just close enough for Emily to recognize the Queen just in front of her, and Adrienne's Spanish galleon to her right. And then, to her left… her eyes narrow as her blood runs cold, and the only explanation to this reaction is the sudden dull ache in her head. That ship. She recognizes something about it, the same way she recognized something about the streets of Port Royal. Familiar-but-not-familiar.

Her answers are here. Right again, Riley. She makes a mental note of just how much she owes him, too.

She sets her sights on the Queen. She's not going anywhere unarmed. Adrienne will almost certainly have left a skeleton crew to man the ship, but she's not too worried about this. Not now that she's resigned to the fact her magic is a necessity. Deciding to make this quick and simple, she brings up a hand and with a flick of her wrist, she's standing on the deck of her ship.

She's immediately met with the sound of swords being drawn. Raising her eyebrows, she turns to the men holding them. Two of her crew, men she's known since Ana was still their captain. "Nice to see you too, gents." She replies, easy.

They both look – confused. How cute. She doesn't have time for them to try and piece anything together, if they can even, so she simply brings up a hand again and flicks her wrist. The swords go flying. The men's eyes widen. They each hold two hands up in surrender, backing away. She gives them a lazy solute before slipping below decks, making for her cabin – and, hopefully, her affects.

Someone had put her cabin back in order somewhere along the line. The desk is neat and tidy now. She grimaces as she looks around. If Adrienne had been using this cabin… where are Emily's things?

A warm breeze flows across the cabin, carrying on it the feel of her goddess. It sweeps across the room – and pushes open the door to the tall wooden armoire on one end of it. Emily jogs over and opens it, eyes lighting up at what's inside.

The island is beautiful in a way that's almost unnatural. The trees are too green, the fruit they're laden with too colorful. The jungle around them is teeming with all sorts of strange, colorful creatures he's never seen before. And something about it all feels off in a way he couldn't explain if asked. They've been walking for what seems like ages, but the sun looks to be in much the same position it was when they first stepped foot on the island.

He wonders if Emily would better understand what's going on. It's likely she would. In fact, she's so used to adventures like this, she'd probably just be basking in the light of the sun, happy to be out of the brig.

She is. She was. Riley can't seem to get it right in his mind, and every time he thinks of it his stomach turns as his blood boils. She's gone, gone, gone, and he doesn't know what comes next, and she was supposed to fix things. She'd promised, kept reminding him, she'd get him back to his Sarah somehow. Maybe he's a fool to keep hoping that'll be possible someday, but Emily…Emily has a way of making him believe anything is quite possible just by her existence. He'd heard the things about her and it all happened while she was still half a child herself, and by rights a woman shouldn't be able to…just, shouldn't be what Emily is.

Was. What she was, and that's just it. If she can be gone, then it all seems much more hopeless.

He glares at the back of the Frenchwoman he's directly trailing behind. Captain LaBelle. No, not captain, never his captain. He's going to kill her, he thinks, and startles himself, and thinks it again more firm. He hardly owes Emily anything, but he'll give her this anyway. Captain LaBelle is going to find herself on a one way trip straight to the Locker, and Riley's going to make sure of it. He's sure Emily's mother will be more than happy to send the Frenchwoman there personally.

He's startled out of his dark reverie when a too-thin hand shoots out and grabs him. Miss Gibbs has been hovering close at his side for the very purpose of reaching out for support if she needs it. He blinks as he realizes it's his arm she's grabbed and not his shoulder. He hadn't been imagining it back on the ship. She is smaller. It seems that's because he's grown. He scarce feels the weight of her on his arm.

A bit more important than that, though, is the fact this is at least the third time she's stumbled in as many minutes. She's still not well, and it seems her goddess doesn't have as much sway over things on this strange island. He casts a worried glance in her direction, but she rights herself and trudges on. He thinks better of asking if he can help in some way. She'd be likely to react to that about as well as Emily would (have. Would have.)

Instead he clears his throat and very pointedly wipes the sweat from his own brow, gasping a little harder than he needs to as he calls out. "Captain – how much farther is it? It feels as though we've been going hours, might a rest do us all some good?"

Miss Gibbs glances at him, eyes full of clear gratitude instead of the annoyance he'd expect. Worrying.

Captain LaBelle glances back but is, mercifully, too preoccupied to notice anything amiss. "We should be close." She's got the map open in her hands, and scowls down at it. "We should be…"

"There's a clearing up ahead." Riley points out, insistent as he dares as Miss Gibbs nearly trips again. "Lay the map out on that rock there, get a better look or you'll have us going 'round in circles."

Captain LaBelle huffs, but does as Riley suggested. Riley, in turn, hovers close by Miss Gibbs until she finds a large tree root that's looped up high enough out of the ground for her to sit. She's pale and gasping a bit. Joshy comes over, looking worried, and Riley leaves them to talk to Captain LaBelle.

"How is it the sun is still so high in the sky? Surely some time has passed."

Captain LaBelle sends a glance skyward and heaves a frustrated sigh. "I don't know. It is not as though I had much time to find out anything about this place."

"Look…" Riley steals a glance back at Miss Gibbs. "Let me scout ahead. I'll see how close we really are, and if we'll have any company when we get there."

Captain LaBelle hesitates, but nods. "Go on."

Riley steals one last glance back at Miss Gibbs, heaves a sigh, and gets moving.

The compass always spins. She can't remember a time where it didn't spin for her. Focusing herself has never been an easy task, there always seems to be one too many things going on, one too many things that need doing or fixing. But she needs it now. She can't do her little disappear-reappear act to get across the island, she has to know where she's going for that to work, has to be able to visualize it. She's just glad she'd thought to take the compass back from Adrienne and tuck it away safe in her desk with its magic seal.

She does use magic to get back to the beach; she doesn't have the time or patience to deal with rowing there. She hesitates a bit with the compass in her hands. It only ever points her to him. This had been proven on several occasions. But things are different now. All she can really think about is Adrienne. In fact, her thoughts are so singularly focused on Adrienne, on just what she's going to do to Adrienne when she gets her hands on the Frenchwoman – she's almost scaring herself. This anger she feels – the only comparison she has is to how she feels about the Admiral.

But even with him, it's different. With the Admiral it's all tinged with fear, a need to never end up in his grasp again, a need to be rid of him so she doesn't have to worry about him anymore. Adrienne…is only a threat because of her medallion. And Emily's got magic that should be strong enough to combat that. She snakes a hand up to feel at her chest with its fresh scar, and the hand clenches into a fist. With Adrienne what she feels is an entirely different kind of rage. Its fire in her veins, so intense that she envisions herself standing before Adrienne…with her father's sword stuck through the Frenchwoman's stomach.

Bloodlust. What she wants is revenge, and this feeling is so intense that any qualms about using her magic were left at the bottom of the ocean where Adrienne tried to leave her.

Emily opens the compass. It's already settled on a direction, further inland. Strides long and determined, she gets moving.

.

They're speaking Spanish, she knows that much.

They don't seem to find any sense in the idea of killing her. At least, she figures this is the case, because they don't seem to be threatening. There's one that speaks English, if only just, and she manages to communicate she's on her own and convinces him she knows nothing about where she is. It's easier than it sounds, maybe because she looks as clueless as she half is for all that she can barely understand the broken English of the man she's attempting to talk to.

Anyway, she ends up more annoyed than anything else. Her new friends, she gets the impression, actually believe her to be a boy. She could pass for one, really, without her corset and looking rather the worse for wear. The men keep a sharp eye on her, but allow her, by some miracle, to keep her sword (maybe this is because they think the sword is all she has. They don't have to know about the knife hidden up her sleeve and the other in the scarf keeping her hair back and the pistol in her boot…there's a reason she learned how to hide these things.) And she doesn't doubt that they know exactly where they are going – incidentally, they're all heading in the very direction the compass is pointing her.

Emily supposes she could get creative and find herself a magical remedy to this problem, but her control with her magic gets so dodgy at times…she decides it's not worth the effort. Besides, the one who speaks something-vaguely-resembling English did have the oddest look on his face when he saw her…almost as if he knew her, though he doesn't appear to have mentioned this to the others. And the more she thinks about that, the more she starts to feel that dull ache in her head.

Answers are still needed. She sticks with the Spaniards.

Riley sprints back through the jungle, vaulting over tree roots and any other odd obstacle. He near trips several times, but manages to regain his footing and keep up what might be a pretty impressive pace. The sun finally seems to have begun the descent it should have hours ago, but still shines bright and too warm, and he's gasping for breath and soaked to the bone with sweat by the time he bursts back into the clearing housing Captain LaBelle and the Queen's crew.

Captain LaBelle scowls as he near runs right into her. "Riley! Mon Dieu, what is the matter with you?"

"Caves…so many of them…" He gasps out. "Full of those jewels…but we do have company."

"How many?"

He shakes his head. "At least as many men as we have…well armed…" He pauses, trying to regain his breath. "But Captain, there's a woman…she glows like your medallion does!"

Captain LaBelle swears. "Bah! I should have known Turner would still be useful!" She grumbles. "Unless…" She turns to Jo, who appears to have overheard their conversation. Her shoulders slump in a tired sort of exasperation at what Captain LaBelle is clearly suggesting.

"I couldn't come close to matching up to Emily on a good day, how exactly do you figure I could manage anything useful now? Gods above."

"I just need a distraction." Captain LaBelle replies. "Get and keep the witch's attention and we will take the men."

Jo grumbles – something unladylike as ever – and throws up her hands, but gets to her feet. "Aye, then. Lead the way." Addressing Riley now, apparently.

He doesn't like this any more than she does, but leads her away all the same.

How long have they been going like this? She can't actually tell. It feels like hours, but the suns about as high in the sky as it was when her new friends first caught her. She tries to reach out with the more non-mortal senses she's gifted with, but all that tells her is that she's in the territory of a god that is not her patron. The strange presence doesn't seem hostile, just wary of her. A small mercy, but one Emily's thankful for.

Right. Back to the sun not moving…well, it's still staying put. But she and her new friends are definitely getting somewhere. The jungle around them is starting to thin out, and the strange but beautiful birds and assorted other creatures occupying the trees and brush are becoming scarcer as well.

Emily thinks, maybe, she's sees a set of cliffs up ahead…

"There."

"I see her. Bit hard to miss, isn't she?"

The witch Riley had seen is indeed glowing, very visibly. She's dark of skin, with long, stringy hair done up some in braids, and wearing a dress adorned with jewels and baubles. The aura around her is soft and tinged a dark red. She looks much more like what he'd sort of expect a witch to look like, aged and bent in on herself a bit, an old crone.

"Why does she glow like that?" Riley asks, unable to contain his curiosity.

"She's a voodoo queen. Dark magic. Not what we're used to. Any kind of magic takes its toll on the one using it when used in excess, but dark magic…well. As you can see." She nods toward the witch.

The crone turns in their direction, or at least, it certainly seems like it. Her eyes glow the same color as the aura surrounding her. Miss Gibbs tenses next to him and makes some sort of odd gesture, presumably some old way of warding off evil. He rolls his eyes a bit. "Do you think you can keep her attention?"

"I won't be much more than an annoyance to her, I expect, but I'll try."

"I'll watch your back. If that's worth anything in this case."

"S'ppose the thought counts, anyhow." She grumbles, and gets to her feet. He watches as she begins working her way out into the clearing surrounding the entrances to the caves.

The Spaniards grow more animated as they get close to the cliffs. The reasons why are more than apparent – for one thing, there are caves set into the cliffs. A lot of them. And all of them quite possibly holding those gems Adrienne had been after. Another reason the men are growing more excited might well be because the clearing they are approaching is already teeming with men. But this isn't too much a concerning thing for Emily. The thought of Adrienne has that fire, new in its intensity, rushing through her veins and setting her blood to boiling. Adrienne and the Queen's crew must be close too, by now, and Emily can't wait…

Her magic tries to start building itself up preemptively. Emily holds it back with a control that is actually well practiced by now. She needs to map out what the situation here is first. As the Spaniards dart forward and into the clearing, hands already at their swords, Emily slips off to the side to hide away a bit and just watch.

There's quite a bit going on already, with the Spaniards so blatantly confronting the second group of men, but it's something entirely different that catches Emily's eye. A woman. Or, something resembling a woman. She's an old crone now, bent and ragged and haggard…she looks a bit like Calypso had when Emily just saw the goddess, the way she's dressed. Except the old crone is, rather obviously, not using any kind of magic that Emily's familiar with.

She's glowing. That's…new.

There's a second group of men stalking forward into the clearing, hands already at their swords. Jo hesitates. She's perhaps a mere three steps away from being right out in the open herself, and is attempting to gather the energy to put on the display she needs to. The second group of men seems to be providing quite a distraction themselves… but not for the witch. She's staying out of it, very firmly, and is instead scanning the tree line.

And pausing right about where Jo's just barely hiding. Blast! Exhausted as she is, Jo brings up her hands and begins summoning her magic.

Joshy can't decide what to do anymore. He wants to burst into tears. He wants to run away. He wants…to hit Captain LaBelle, though some part of him is unsettled by this, but then why should that be unsettling, Captain LaBelle had taken Emmy's pistol and…now he wants to burst into tears and hit Captain LaBelle and then run away, in that order.

It still hasn't settled in. Emmy can't be gone. She'll be fine, she'll be back. She always comes back for him.

He's trembling something fierce as he trails behind the other men, led along by Captain LaBelle, who stops them now. Joshy hears voices up ahead, some sort of commotion. What's going on?

"Boy." That's Captain LaBelle's voice, beckoning him forwards. Joshy slips past the other men to face her. She points to a group of trees whose trunks are obscured by a thicker set of bushes. "Hide yourself." Captain LaBelle says, firm. "Riley or I will come for you, stay put until then."

He nods and does as he's told without complaint. He hates being useless, but knows that's just what he is, being still so small. He has a pretty fair view of what's happening from his hiding spot, anyway, and his brows furrow when he sees two groups of men that appear to be arguing, and an old woman who scares him at first glance, though he has no idea why.

The compass is pointing her off to the side, through the jungle. What Emily's after isn't in the clearing where all the other men are looking about ready to go at each other. And the ones who'd been watching her so close on the way here have now forgotten she exists. The witch, undoubtedly, will prove to be a problem at some point, though. Emily deliberates for longer than she should. Take care of the witch first? Or finish hunting Adrienne down?

Unsurprising, Adrienne wins out. Emily slips back further into the jungle again, and begins cutting across to where the compass is pointing her.

Riley hears rustling coming from somewhere behind him, the clear sound of someone else picking their way through the jungle. He only has a split second to decide – see who it is, or duck down and hope he isn't noticed?

He wants to be at hand to help Miss Gibbs if it's needed, in whatever way he can manage. He ducks down.

Jo's rather impressed with herself. The raw power making her hands glow might not be much compared to what the glowing witch could conjure, but for Jo it's impressive. Well, impressive considering the state she's in, anyway. She forms the energies into a large ball in her hands, hauls back, and throws it with all her might. It shoots forward at a fair speed, and hits its intended target.

The dark witch stumbles back, though she obviously isn't hurt. Her glowing eyes focus in on Jo's location, and she begins conjuring her own power-ball. Unsurprising, its larger than Jo's and glowing far brighter.

Jo throws up her own hands, conjuring a shield of energy that glows a faint blue, and braces herself as well as she can…

She could cloak herself, she realizes. It would be easy that way. She could cloak herself, take out the knife in her boot, slip up to Adrienne entirely unnoticed, and… But that's playing dirty, even by the standards Adrienne's set, and would be low even for Emily. She wants revenge, but she'll be damned if she's going to do it in such a cowardly way.

Instead, she reaches for her sword as she sees yet another group of men up ahead, through the trees. This group she recognizes all too well. Her men, they used to be. Hadn't she promised to keelhaul them all? Strange to think that was weeks ago. It feels like a lifetime. Actually, none of the anger she feels is for them anymore. It's all just Adrienne now, Adrienne and that medallion.

Besides, as satisfying as it is to threaten, Emily doesn't have the stomach for any kind of prolonged punishment. She wants it quick and simple, and knows how to make sure it will be. She has a feeling that medallions magic won't work so well if it's chief victim is well aware of its effects.

This time, the fight will be fair, and by the old gods, Adrienne will lose.

She stays on her feet, but slides backwards on them all the same, and is thrown into a tree. The shield she'd had up fizzles out, rather pathetic, and she collapses to her knees, dazed.

The witch stalks towards her, murmuring in another one of those ancient languages, chanting a spell. Jo tries to throw her shield back up. Hold her hands out…nothing. Try again, please, please…sort of something, it fizzles out too quick to be useful. Blast it all, Calypso herself would be ashamed… now it works. Just in time. Another ball of power flies at her, but disperses against the shield that is a bit stronger.

Jo isn't sure how long she can keep this up…

"Should we try to get around them, Capitaine?" Adrienne's first mate asks.

There's a bit of a pause as she watches the two groups in the clearing begin arguing. "We wait. They may take care of themselves, no?"

Emily steps up behind the older woman. "And while they are, I think you and I have our own business to attend to." The rest of the men are already staring at her, eyes wide and skin going pale as if they've seen a ghost (though she really isn't one, she'd have had to die for that and she actually – well, trifles). She just grins.

Adrienne turns slowly, brows furrowed over dark blue orbs that take in Emily's (alive and kicking) form. "But you – you're dead. I killed you!"

"Ah. About that." Emily brushes the sleeve of her shirt down over her shoulder, revealing the new scar. "Long story short, mate, you're a bloody awful shot."

The Frenchwoman gives her a look that is somewhere between anger and bewilderment, then throws her shoulders back, haughty. "So what is it you are looking for now? Revenge? With a sword? Do you think that will turn out any better for you this time?"

"Oh, I know it will." Emily draws her sword and twirls it with all her usual skill and precision.

Adrienne doesn't bother with theatrics. The men around them scramble to get out of the women's way as Adrienne draws her sword and charges Emily. Metal clashes, Emily parries every blow, but Adrienne matches her in skill, easy. This makes sense; she doesn't have to draw it from Emily. She's got a crew's worth of men close at hand to steal it from, and it must be easy, as they've been under her spell for weeks.

Emily just barely manages a spin out of the way as Adrienne's blade slices through the air and takes out a small chunk of a tree. Adrienne shrieks in frustration. Emily just smiles, wolfish. She does enjoy a challenge – makes it all the more satisfying when she wins.

Jo's shield breaks again. The dark witch apparently decides she's had enough; she throws up her hands and before Jo can make another move there are thin red tendrils of magic snaking out – and around her too-thin frame. She struggles, but they have an iron grip. She's dragged out of the forest and out into the open, lifted into the air as the witch stares up at her and murmurs in an ancient language.

The pair of them dance their way out into the clearing, swords still clashing. Emily's beginning to tire of this game, but can't figure how to end it. As long as Adrienne's got that bloody medallion…

The medallion!

She backs the Frenchwoman up, towards the cliffs. The terrain grows trickier the closer they get to them; rocks jut up, large and sharp in cases. Emily's not particularly advantaged here with her leg, but if she can just…back Adrienne up far enough, just far enough…

Adrienne thrusts forward with her sword, slicing through Emily's shirt – and barely missing her belly. With the Frenchwoman distracted by frustration, Emily is able to shoot out her peg leg to trip her, sending her stumbling back a bit – and right into a very large boulder. Adrienne flips right over it backwards, landing awkward and hard on her back and, it appears, cracking her head a bit on the rough, hard ground. Emily shoots forward, jumps the rock, and lunges with her sword, aiming for Adrienne's neck.

Adrienne gasps, eyes going wide, hands shooting up to feel at the flesh there…and covering up a wound that is shallow, and probably more startling than painful. What Emily was really going for is now lying on the ground beside the Frenchwoman, glinting in the light of the sun that is finally waning. The medallion.

Adrienne's hands fall away from her neck all too quick, now darting out to search blindly for what she realizes is missing, but Emily holds her sword up to the Frenchwoman's neck. "Keeping going like that and that little scrape gets a whole lot deeper." Voice hard and cold and deadly serious. Adrienne freezes, and nods once. Emily motions a bit with the sword. "Up."

Adrienne gets to her feet slow, wary of the blade that remains at her neck. Emily maneuvers with care so she's standing where Adrienne was, and then bends down to snatch the medallion up quick. She can feel its magic, powerful but not dark, and Emily thinks she'd like to know what goddess could have produced it and for what exactly.

Adrienne eyes the bit of gold. "I could get along without it."

"Oh, I know you could." It's true. Emily has suspected all along that Adrienne's knowledge of running a ship wasn't the medallions work; she'd watched her own father and learned well. "S'why I'm not letting you out of my sight, so move."

"My sword."

"You're more useless with that than you are with a pistol, that I do know. Forget it."

"Please – capitaine, it was a gift from my papa."

Emily snarls, growing annoyed. "If I have my way you won't be needing it. Move."

Adrienne does. Emily keeps a sharp eye on the Frenchwoman right up until something else entirely catches her attention, a cry of pain, and the voice… she's never heard it give a sound such as this before, but she'd know the voice of her sister anywhere. She spins around without thinking, eyes sweeping over… the witch she'd seen earlier. She's got Jo. The older woman is trapped by tendrils of dark magic, not a good sign since she looks rather the worse for wear even from this distance.

Before she can decide what to do, she feels a tap on her shoulder. Brows furrowed, she turns back around… and the world goes dangerous fuzzy as her head snaps back hard, and she only just manages to keep a grip on her sword. The medallion, on the other hand, slips from her fingers.

When she finally manages to regain her bearings, the Frenchwoman is coming back at her, sword and medallion both clutched in the wrong hand. She's shaking out her right, the knuckles already turning purple, and Emily is grudgingly impressed.

"Let me go." The Frenchwoman demands, already backing away.

"You can't win a fight against me now."

"And you have other problems, no? Josephine will be killed if you do not aid her."

"You killed me!" Emily growls, but she's the one fighting a losing battle.

"And yet here you are, so I am sure you will get over it."

Another shriek from Jo. Emily glances back, the hand holding her sword twitching as she can't decide what to do. Adrienne smirks. "You still have a heart. I think that is what will kill you one day. Au Revoir, Capitaine Turner." And she spins around and disappears back into the jungle. Her men follow, no doubt.

Emily can't…She wants the Frenchwoman…that lovely, satisfying image of the woman with a Turner blade stuck through her belly calls to Emily, but Jo is…

Bugger, bugger, bugger!

She shoves the pistol away and turns to Jo, still struggling to be free of the dark witch. Throwing up her hands, Emily summons all the power she can, holding little back, and sends it all to Jo. It engulfs the older woman, burning so bright the witch is now the one shrieking as she drops the older woman.

Emily staggers a bit, exhausted now and thoroughly, but she has to be sure, so she sprints forward and watches as the light around Jo fades. The older woman, who'd looked haggard and pale as death even from the distance Emily had been at, is getting to her feet and looking just herself again, strong and healthy. Very healthy indeed. She's glowing with the excess magic Emily had just dumped into her, just like the dark witch is. She clenches her fists, and the power explodes out again, throwing the witch back.

Figuring this means Jo's got things handled now, Emily turns back to where her crew were – only to find them sprinting out into the clearing, led by Riley.

Emily's not sure of what's happening anymore. The dark witch is lying quite unconscious halfway across the clearing from where she had been, but still glowing, suggesting she's not hurt too bad. Jo is hovering close by her, but looking down at her own still glowing hands and then up and around, confused. The men the dark witch had been with are still going at the Spaniards, but both party's numbers are dwindling, and now the Queen's crew is charging in…

"Wait!" Emily snaps, panic overtaking her. "Riley, wait, stop!" She heads him off, though he seemed to be heading in her direction anyway.

"Emily?" He asks, looking her over, and then shooting forward to pull her into a crushing embrace. "Gods, it's really you! But I thought…how did…" He pulls away to look at her again, bemused.

"You thought wrong, look, just, there isn't time." She gestures to the men fighting a ways away. "I need those men alive. You understand? It's the only way to get answers to any of this."

He nods, and glances at the rest of the crew behind him, and Emily watches them run off and almost follows but really ends up contemplating… are those caves really full of those jewels? The island was awful heavy protected, she has a feeling there's more going on here.

She picks out the one that seems the hardest to access, with a series of rocks and vines blocking the entrance, and climbs around and swats at the vines and finally manages to slip inside… only a few paces, because one of the Spaniards is blocking her path now, the one who spoke some English. Too tired to be worried about it, she brings up her hands and waits the brief moment it takes for her magic to build…

Except it's not building. She can feel it trying, swirling around her, but she can't contain it, can't gather it for use. She tries and tries, but she just can't grab a hold of it and the Spaniard is smirking now and without another word he turns and sprints off further into the cave. She follows.

.

There are traps set. Hundreds of ancient, clever traps. She finds out because she's nearly impaled stepping into a circle of sunlight; it looks like a bit of the caves ceiling had simply collapsed, but it was designed that way. Spikes shot out of the wall the moment she got close enough. The man she's chasing could be dead already, lightly as she's having tread herself, but then again, he could've known what he was facing too. She keeps going.

There're paintings on the walls that grow more intricate the further in she goes. Ships sailing on the oceans. Strange figures floating along in small boats. A pale man surrounded by jewels, facing down a dark haired woman in white who has swirls of blue twisting around her. Water, maybe? The woman in white makes Emily think of Calypso, but then who is the man surrounded by jewels?

Still treading carefully, she comes upon a room lit up by flickering torches. She's not precisely sure how they're lit considering they're also surrounded by cobwebs and look to have been in the same position for ages, but then, this isn't the strangest thing she's ever seen, is it? Glinting in the dim light, the walls of the cavern are studded with jewels – millions upon millions of the sapphires Adrienne had been hoping for. In the center of the room there's a pedestal of sorts situated, bathed in the sunlight from another hole in the roof of the cave. Sitting on the pedestal, is the largest jewel Emily has ever laid eyes on. It's in the perfect shape of a water drop, and seems to be an even deeper, clearer blue than any of the other jewels around. And Emily doesn't like it. Whatever this thing is, she can feel that it's what stopped her magic in its tracks earlier.

Maybe she'd been right. There really is more to all of this than just a quest for treasure. This is more than confirmed by the fact that the man she's been chasing is standing behind the pedestal, hands hovering over the water-drop-jewel as if preparing to snatch it up as he glares at Emily.

"Bastante pequeña mujer del diablo. Detenerme si puedes." He smirks a bit when her brows furrow, as she has no real idea what he'd said. All she can pick out is 'diablo', which she's heard before and knows means 'devil'. Not that that's surprising; it's hardly the first time the descriptions been put to her and will almost certainly not be the last. Before she can think on it too much further, he's snatching up the water-drop-jewel in one swift move, and turning to sprint off towards the back of the cave. She doesn't know how, but a small entrance opens up as he approaches, and with a last smirk sent back at her, he disappears.

The room around her begins to shake, and she can feel a strange magic at work. The god whose presence is so strong on this island is not happy. The caves are beginning to collapse. Emily wants to try and run after the Spaniard but she has no idea how he'd opened the other entrance, and if she doesn't get moving now she won't make it out the way they'd come.

The walls are starting to crumble. Sparkling blue gems rain down around her, and she watches in awe a moment before forcing herself to turn around and run for her life.

Not entirely satisfied with this chapter. Writer's block, ugh…

Thanks for reading. :)

Spanish
Bastante pequeña mujer del diablo. Detenerme si puedes. – Pretty little devil woman. Stop me if you can.