Voyage 2 - The water of life

The players

Jack Sparrow – a pirate captain and a smart man, with a taste for rum, long hair, long words and even longer plans

Elanor – a ship’s captain and a smart woman, with similar tastes - except that she’d rather have brandy

Ariadne – a ship’s ghost – well maybe – very smart but with no tastes at all

Calypso – a sea goddess with a weakness for pirates, a wicked sense of humour and no sense of fair play

The Lady – herself

Barbossa – a pirate captain and a hard man with a liking for big hats, and a fear of inescapable curses and impending doom

Various crew – all of whom who had been loved by their mothers but possibly no one since

A monkey

A parrot

Chapter 40 Moving On

As the sun rose they were already far from the port. They had collected their meagre goods from the lodging in a hurry and left as the moon still rode high in the sky. Neither man was sorry to be gone, though they both felt their failure keenly.

" What gave us away?" Groves asked as they scrambled along a track beside the cliff edge.
Hathaway shrugged,
"One question too many. That and the fact that Jack Sparrow is an old hand at the game and chooses his allies well."
They stopped for a moment to stare out over the shore towards the direction that the Intrepid would take in another day's time. Hathaway sighed as he watched the surf rolling in under the pale dawn light,
"I had hoped than never going back to the same place twice would be enough to avoid being caught out, but clearly it wasn't. Someone noticed us more than once and wondered. Or maybe they just happened to mention it to Sampson, and I doubt that he is ever a trusting soul."

"But did they know who we were?"
"No, they can't have done, if they had then we would have been quietly knifed in that alley without any chance to explain our intentions. Sampson was suspicious but he wasn't sure. I suspect that he has let us run to see what we will do, or maybe Sparrow has given instructions that those who come looking for him are to be harried but not killed, for fear of what might be the consequences."
"And what of our reason for being here? Do they know that?"
Hathaway shook his head with a wry smile,
"Oh no, I'm sure of that, Sparrow will be most tight lipped on that subject, whatever he intends to do. A man cannot survive as a successful pirate for ten years, and with a price of that size on his head to boot, and not know how to hold his tongue. No, Sparrow is the only one who knows about that, and maybe this man Gibbs."

"And what of the woman?"
Hathaway paused for a moment,
"Ah, yes, the angel who appears to be riding his coattails. Or she devil, depending on whom you believe. Yes, she is something of a puzzle is she not? Obviously she is someone of considerable note, and yet we have never heard of her. Neither the pirates, nor Beckett, nor even Davy Jones explain her presence in this mix, nor who she is. I must say I am fired with a considerable desire to see her."
Groves shuddered,
"From what they say of her I'm not sure I share that desire sir. It seems she is prodigiously well armed!"
"True, and not adverse to a fight either. Strange lady she must be, and I'll take a bet that she is a lady Groves. Not some fisherman's daughter or pirate lass she."
"So where did she come from sir? Is it possible that she did return with Sparrow from the locker? If that is indeed where he vanished to."
Hathaway was silent for a moment watching the first rays of day strengthening its hold on the land,
"I don't know," he said eventually. "The idea that Sparrow truly did die and was brought back is almost too much to comprehend, that he brought some strange being from beyond the maps back with him when he came is truly beyond my comprehension."

Groves thought about that for a moment then sighed,
"But if he did not bring her with him then why have we not heard of her before?"
Hathaway nodded,
"Yes, there is always that question too. But there is a question that is even more important."
Groves looked at him in confusion,
"There is? What?.. Sir."
Hathaway stared out at the horizon with shuttered face and far away eyes, the early light striking a warm gold tint from his sweat straggled hair and the stubble peppering his chin, his mouth tightened as he thought,
"Why is she aiding him Mr Groves?" he said softly. "What is it that she wants from the exchange? She seems powerful enough for it not to be his protection, and clever enough for it not to be his help, so what advantage does he hold for her?" He looked towards with Groves with a slight smile, "he may have some physical charms but I doubt they are sufficient to explain this lady's interest."
He turned away, looking back towards the sea,
"With all the world to chose from why did she come to a scorpion pit like this one, and why in search of Sparrow?"
Groves eyebrows rose as he thought on that,
"Why indeed sir?"

Hathaway reached out and patted the other man's arm,
"The world is become very strange Mr Groves, and my gut tells me that she is a stranger part of it. But I may be wrong, the Admiral may know of the lady and what he knows may tell us why she is with Sparrow. The sooner we lay the matter before him the better."
He looked up the road at the steep forested hills on either side and then back to the sea chewed rocks on the shore below them,
"And yet... I am not so sure that anything is as it seems these days. The bay her ship was seen in is on our way to our rendezvous. We'll see if we can find more news there."
He set off again and Groves hurried after him.

As he took his place at his captain's shoulder again a sudden thought occurred to him,
"What did you mean back there, sir, about Nassau?"

***

Jack had gambled that his observations of the creatures had been sufficient and not for the first time his gamble paid off. The creatures did not rise so high when they had their prey to carry, and with the weight of two humans added to its catch their unwary benefactor flew lower than it might otherwise have done. Elanor, watching the stone causeway some ten or so feet below her could only pray that their transport did not turn away or climb too high before they reached their target. Pray too that Jack could hold on long enough for them to reach it. So far he had shown no sign of losing his grip on the fish tails but she did not underestimate what it must be costing him, and she couldn't help but wonder how long his failing strength could hold.

Nor could she avoid wondering what they would do if the creatures turned away from the road. She could almost feel the green waters watching and waiting as they were carried towards what, she hoped, would prove to be both safety and an answer.

But it seemed that the hunters were making for the same rock, whether it was their home or simply a marker along the way she could not tell but they seemed to follow the line of the causeway, keeping over it as far as they could.
'Probably because it gives them a chance to recapture any prey that wriggle free', she thought.
The leisurely beat of widespread wings was deceptive and the creatures were covering the distance to the rock spire far faster than they had ever had the hope of doing on foot. Elanor clutched Jack tighter still and tried to avoid wondering what it would feel like when he let go and they fell back down to the road.

As the spire came closer they could see that it was not smooth, but nor was it rocky and it had not the look of a crag. Instead it appeared like a fluted column of volcanic glass, wider than it had appeared at a distance. As they were taken closer still the surface took on a metallic texture and colouration, a midnight blue base colour with flashes of silver, indigo and green buried within it. The glitter of these hinted that somewhere within the body of the spire there might be a powerful light of some kind.

As they approached within thirty feet of the spire Jack felt the slight increase in the downdraft that betrayed the creatures intention to climb, and knew that it was time to part company with their ride. He turned his head and spoke into her ear,
"Hold on, we're going down .. Now."
With that he closed his eyes, held his breath and let go.

***
Gibbs woke with a start, knife springing to his hand as he wondered where he was. Then he remembered and settled back against the hot rock with a sigh.

The fountain of youth they had come looking for, he remembered, though Captain Elanor had spoken of it as something else. He stared out towards the reef and the ship waiting there and wondered if such a thing could truly be here. He'd seen many such islands, and few had held anything more eldritch than a fresh water spring. But after sailing over the edge of the world he was less than willing to say it might not be, and if Jack thought there were a chance then he'd better a flagon of rum that it were here.

For Jack's sake he hoped that it were, and that they found it. The man he knew was back again but there was something about him that suggested his fear of the Locker was not dead and buried.

He knew that ut had not been easy for Jack to give up command of the Dutchman, and more than once he had cursed himself for not following Will over, for sendin' Miss Elizabeth over. If she had just stayed on board the Pearl matters might have fallen out quite differently, though at the time there had been little choice in the matter. But he couldn't help but wonder what might have changed had he gone over with her. But then again someone had needed to keep the Pearl's crew together with Jack gone and Barbossa behaving more than a mite strangely. He sighed, t'were easy enough to want it changed, think on how it might have been changed, sittin here, but at the time..,,, well that had been different.

He'd not expected Jack to stand against the Armarda when he came back, and he'd delayed the order to fire longer than had been comfortable for any of them, but his instinct had been right. No doubt his instinct about this place were no less right. Captain Elanor now, she obviously thought so, she and that ghost of hers, elswehise they would not be here. He turned his eyes back to the white ship and wondered what the ghost was up to at this moment. Fine ship it were and that was fact, but where did they come from? No denying he'd be more comfortable if he knew that. Jack said it weren't the locker but he weren't so sure. Strange place it must be wherever it was, that lightening of hers was surely the stuff of the gods.. Was she some relation of Calypso then? No, he'd like to know more about this lady, for he'd never known her like before.

Though when it came to it just how much did he know about Jack? For he had never realised that Jack were the keepers get, though it answered a question or two. Barbossa now, he must have been real shaken when he realised how matters stood. Maybe that were why he had left them where he had, rather than abandoning them to die somewheres. But then again Barbossa was scarce hisself either now was he? Hadn't been since She had brought him back.

Gibbs frowned and swallowed another gulp of water and wished it were rum, these thoughts were both uncommon and uncomfortable and he would feel better if they would go away.

With a grunt he pushed himself to his feet and stumbled over to the hole in the ground into which the two captains had disappeared, staring into the shadows with a feeling of sudden fear Whatever they were doing he hoped it would be over soon.

***

The falling seemed to go onto forever, hanging between nothing and forbidding rock with the sight of Jack's flying braids visible at the corner of her eye telling her that he was still with her. Then, with a sickening jolt that seemed to splinter bone and rip sinew, she hit the causeway.

Their landing was inelegant and it sent them tumbling over each other before leaving them like landed fish, gasping from breath and sprawling, dazed, within the shadow of the spire. The world darkened for a moment as pain exploded and she didn't hear the curse as Jack landed or feel the slap of his hair across her face as he slid over her. But she was briefly aware of the heat of him through her shirt and felt the thud of another heartbeat against her ribs before she was alone again.

Elanor rolled over on to her back and watched the hunters pass over her before they rose effortlessly to vanish into the shadows on the far side of the spire. Beside her she could the rasp of Jack's breath as he struggled to sit up, but she continued to lie immobile as he pulled the lantern from his belt and sent a beam of light across the causeway still between them and the base of the spire.
"Well we've arrived where we wanted to be, and in something approximating one piece. Can't ask more than that in the circumstances."
There was relief in the familiar voice, but the rasp of it, and the breathless hiss that followed the words told her that he was hurting just as much as she was. Remembering the sight of his fingers just before they took flight she wondered for a moment how much more than her he was hurting.

If he could sit up then so could she!

With an effort, but a silent one, she hauled herself upright pushing her palms against the rock to lever herself to her feet. The air was thin here making their lungs labour for breath, but the stench was gone and though they could see tendrils of mist closing in behind them there seemed to be none between them and the tower. Jack stayed kneeling for a moment, shining the light down at the dark waters below and frowning, before he, too, scrambled upright. She pulled her own lantern free of her belt and thumbed it alight. In the sudden glare Jack's skin had the tint of a demon from hell, even the whites of his eyes were taking on a bloody colour. The deep vertical lines between his brows, just visible below the edge of his scarf spoke volumes of his discomfort and his lips looked cracked and dry. Water, he needed water.

It was only then that she realised what was missing, that somewhere in the confusions of the hallucination, the climb or the sudden appearance of the hunters they had lost their packs. Elanor swallowed on the sudden sinking feeling, going forwards would be hard enough, getting out would be harder still, but without water then both were probably impossible, for the air here was if anything hotter than it had been on the shore.

Jack saw her widening eyes and wondered what was happening now, a quick look around showed him that the causeway was deserted but for them and the hunters had all now passed. What then caused her momentary look of despair?
"Water, we've no water. We left it behind," she whispered.
He bared his teeth and swore, it was not only water they were without, there was no food, nor shot either, other than the little had had on his belt. Fool that he was, why had he not kept a better check on things? Why hadn't she come to that, though he thought he might know the answer to that, had he not seen the same concern in her face back there as he had that day when her little animals had attacked him? It was a long time since anyone had cared for him at all, he made sure of that, and he didn't want anyone starting to do so now. Brought all sorts of uncomfortable feelings and responsibilities that did and he would not have any part of it, didn't want any part of it.

At least he didn't think he did, but there was that moment when he had returned from the locker hadn't there? When he had not been himself and it had all felt different. He always went cold when he recalled that moment, just as he had on the dockside as he realised that the crew had stolen his ship and abandoned him again for Barbossa's less than tender mercies. That feeling had driven him to an unusual spurt of anger, a luxury he rarely allowed himself, both with Gibbs for allowing it and the ladies for not caring, for seeing and not seeing. No he didn't want her care, when the time came she would take her ship through her door without a second thought, better not to have than to have it and then have to do without. Care was a dangerous quanitity in their situation, brought all sorts of uncertainties that could cost a branded man his life. Had not the commodore demonstrated as much on the dock at Port Royale in what truly had been a life time ago?

That she, of his blood no less, had forgotten the practicalities in her caring was only more proof, if he needed it, that such care softened the brain, for look where it had left them!

But then he had not done so very much better in his not caring, had he?

He swallowed on the angry words and sighed, looking up to where the sky should be.
"Bugger! But nothin' we can do about it now. Not unless you fancy the walk there and back again."
The despair vanished from her face and she squared her shoulders with a slight smile,
"No. I think I'll pass on that."
"We'll just have to hope there is fresh water here, though I'd shrivel rather than drink that devils brew," he indicated the lake with a flick of his hand.
Though the fire on his skin warned him that yet may prove to be a lie.

Elanor felt a sudden sense of inevitability, avoid all water Ariaden has said, and not content with bathing it now it seemed they would be drinking it too! Assuming that there was any to drink. She would not drink that lake water either.

"Well no use standin' here bemoaning matters." Jack said, easing his shirt against his burning skin, before drawing his sword, "best get on with it and see if we can find some."

***

They crossed above the bay where the lady's ship had been seen as the sun reached towards noon. The day was hot but the scudding clouds suggested that more rain would arrive before nightfall. Both men felt a pressing need of refreshment and, as they had not even stopped to fill their water bottles before leaving town, they were glad of the sight of the farmsteads clustered about a small dip in the land just off the cliff path.

It would be over grand to call it a village for the small cluster of buildings probably encompassed no more than half a dozen small farmsteads strung out on the flat land between the wooded hills and drop to the shore. Chickens scratched amongst the sandy dust and goats could be seen grazing in the hedges beside the path, but there were no signs of people. One little cluster of roofs was slightly off to the side, a slightly larger establishment by the look of it, with a couple of small barns and a still room as well as a one story house of moderate proportions. If a pirate were to come ashore here then that would be the place they would head for. Groves and Hathaway exchanged a look and set off in the direction of this homestead.

As they approached the garden wall a girl appeared, not yet eighteen Hathaway guessed by the firm look of the unlined pale skin, she had buckets in both hands and her skirts kilted to show sturdy, sun glazed, ankles. Catching sight of them she stopped and stared then looked around as if seeking help. Hathaway raised his hand to his forelock and saluted her politely,
"Morning miss, we were not meaning to startle you, but we would be glad of the opportunity to purchase a mug of ale." He gave a disarming smile, "the road is all dust and the day grows hot."

The girl stared at him for a moment then she put down her buckets and half turned away from them, calling to someone in the building behind her,
"Ma, we have customers for your home brew at the gate."
A woman appeared from the shadows, wiping her hands on her apron as she did so; off to their left a young man appeared beside the hedge, scythe in hand and a wary look on his face. While the girl had looked only curious neither her parent, nor the lad who could be her husband or her brother, looked to be friendly and Hathaway quickly abandoned any thought of asking questions here.

Yet when they took up the road again they were better informed than they had hoped to be, for the girl had been bored and had revelled in their admiring looks while her mother and brother were so close to hand. Her chatter had been artless enough, but her giggles when Hathaway had assured her that they were not pirates suggested that she had been in the company of pirates at some time in the not so distant past, and her comments that not all pirates were so bad suggested that she had not minded the experience. Sparrow, Hathaway was inclined to bet, for the great days of the swashbuckling buccaneers were sliding into history, even Beckett must have known that, and Jack Sparrow was surely the last of those remaining that might have any claim to romance in a young girl's mind. Though it was always possible that she had just heard of him rather than met him, but given this was the bay where the lady's ship had been seen he was almost sure that seen him she had, and possibly recently.

As they lingered on the cliff edge and looked down at the steep climb up those cliffs Groves wondered what would inspire a man to climb them, and anyone coming ashore from a ship anchored here would have had to climb. If Sparrow had come ashore from that ship here then why had he done so? He could have docked in the port unmolested, so why come to this out of the way place? Was it possible that he had brought the heart of Davy Jones, if that was his leverage, here? If so where would he have left it?

Looking around them Hathaway could see no possible hiding place unless it was a in a cave on the cliff face itself. He went as far as lying flat on the cliff edge, trying to see where one might be, but gave it up deciding that Sparrow would not risk it to such an open and vulnerable spot. No, if he had come ashore here then it was not to hide the heart. In which case there was another reason why he had not sailed openly into the harbour? Something to do with that angel who had come looking for him perhaps? With a sigh he picked up his bag again and set off up the path towards their rendezvous.

***

The tower, for that was what she thought of it at this close range, was round as far as she could judge and broader than it had looked at a distance. It rose from the waters like a reed, the base lost in the deep green depths of the lake, and the causeway joined it rather than being a part of it. The structure looked to be in two sections, the second level slightly narrower than the first though it was possible that a third was lost in the shadows. The top of it would be near the same height as the forest they had fallen from.

If she had doubted that the cause way led to this then the sight of the doorway resolved the matter. They moved closer, lanterns raised high to maximise the light.

The causeway entered through a square lintel in wall then was lost in the deeper shadow within the walls. There was no door, just a wide opening where, once, some barrier had obviously stood, but what kind of barriers was less clear. There were no rotted timbers to be seen, no rusted nails, not even any dust to suggest that something else had fallen to nothingness here.

Elanor advanced on the doorway carefully but the place seemed silent and deserted. No animal stirred nor bird fluttered and, with a quick glance at Jack, she moved closer to the lintel. Her fingers brushed the surface lightly, it was smooth and cool in the humid air, no moisture adhered to it at all. She held the lantern closer still, shining it one way then another and was not terribly surprised when she saw traces of those same lines and clusters she had seen in the walls of the tunnel where they had first entered. Whatever the barrier up there had been there had been something very similar down here.

"What is it?" Jack said quietly coming to stand at her shoulder,
"I don't know but I think it was the same as what we saw up there," she ran her hands over the surface again, "I think there was a door of some form here once but I doubt that it was a door as we would know it." She gave him a warning look, "it's gone I think, but that's not to say there aren't others barriers around here, the place might be falling apart but it may still have a trick or two up its sleeve."
Jack grimaced,
"Thanks for that thought luv!"

With a smile she straightened and brushed her fingers on her shirt.
"Glad to be of help. So do we go in?"
"That's why we came her wasn't it?"
"True. But are you still sure that you want to?"
Jack came close to her, staring into her face with that gold flecked grin, yet, despite the broadness of it, it was a tight and unyielding as a manacle while his eyes seemed as darkly red as hell fire might be. His voice was soft hiss,
"Elanor, darlin, after all this place has put us to I think it owes us something in return, don't you?"
"That may be so, but there is no saying what it could still take from us, our lives for example."
Jack put out a hand and took one of hers, looking down at the red lines marching, ever thickening, across her skin. His own hand was now wrapped in a cobweb of pulsing wheals, the heat of which seemed to be burning his bones. He traced one of the frailer lines on the back of her hand with a finger, even his rings seemed red in the dim light.
"It may already have done so. Never thought it would be this hard, " he said softly "I'm thinking that we won't escape from here unless we find the fountain."
She looked at him in silence for a moment then drew a deep breath and nodded,
"I think you may be right about that. I can't see us making it back to the surface in our current shape and it is likely to get worse rather than better."
He went on staring down at her hand for a moment, then he look up to meet her eyes, his fingers still wrapped around hers,
"We go in then?"
"We go in."

***
As the two men strode away they were watched into the distance by a wary Ben and his equally wary, and suspicious, mother.
"Why did they stop here Ma? Amos's place is closer to the path if they just wanted ale."
"Ay, so I thought, though I'll not deny that I have reputation for brewin' and the coin is welcome." She shrugged, "Perhaps they did not want to be dealin' with an escaped slave. There are those who feel that way, even here."
She watched them as they climbed a small rise,
"But if they be vagabonds they are new to it, their clothes were a mite too whole for them to have been scrounging long."
"Escaped bondsmen maybe?" Ben offered.
"Perhaps, 'tis possible they are new runaway's looking for a place, yet their hands did not speak of recent toil."
Ben nodded, proud as always of his mother's wit,
"They were mightily interested in the bay Ma, the tow haired one almost fell down the cliff lookin'"
"So I saw, but I'd wager it were not the bay that interested them but what might have been there."
Her son looked down at her with a frown,
"The lady captain and her ship?"
Polly sucked her teeth for a moment then shook her head,
"Jack Sparrow more like. Somethin' about them called Josh to mind, so I'd says navy."

Ben goggled at her in astonishment,
"Navy! Here? They'd not dare Ma!"
Polly gave a knowing smile,
"Normally they'd not, but what's been normal of late? Jack Sparrow is deep in something and mark my words they are a part of it."
She saw her son reach for his billhook and grasped his wrist impatiently,
"Ben, do not be a fool! Let them be! They have done no harm, and they've not found ought here. Do not seek out trouble for no reason! Let them go, " she turned back to look up the path, "but warn our neighbours to be on the watch, if they come back we may need to ask them to explain themselves. Until then leave things be as I bid you, but warn your sister to keep mum." She stared hard at the retreating backs, "let's hope that's the last we see of them. Whatever it is I don't think I want any part of it."

With that she withdrew back to her still room and the newly fermenting rum, trying not to wonder what it was Josh Gibbs was involved in this time.

***

The first bones they found were in a tumbled heap by the far wall.

They had entered from the causeway into a large space with a ceiling high enough to disappear into the shadows. In the middle was another, smaller, circular structure, a tower within a tower, and made of the same dark and glassy rock as the outer walls. All of the walls, those of both the inner and the outer tower, seemed to be marked with a similar pattern of crystals to those they had seen beside the main door and in the tunnels above, but there was no more sign of what they meant than there had been before. They walked slowly around the inner tower and then the outer walls, examining each surface carefully, wondering what this place had been constructed for. Then they found the remains.

The huddle of bones was lying beside a shallow indentation in the floor on the other side of the inner structure, this hollow was one of several others and similar in size and shape to the several slabs of some lighter coloured stone.

Jack stirred a skeletal foot with his toe, hurriedly covering his first look of horror, and the shudder, with a look of nonchalance,
"Not the first here then." He said brightly.
"No, but then there is no reason why we should be. The map has been around for centuries and it may well have been copied from others even older. Others may well have found their way here."
"Hmm," Jack responded as he stirred the bones again, "So what killed this one? Hunger and thirst? The lake water?"
"Maybe either, or all, or none " she joined him by the remains, studying it with an experienced eye. "Whoever it was has other injuries too;" she reached out a finger, "see here, a broken leg, arm and collarbone. There may have been others that are no longer visible."
Jack peered at the bones she indicated and nodded,
"Aye and not sword made either. More like from a fall." He looked around, "but a fall from what." he tipped his head back and stared into the shadows, "There must be a roof up there but not even an undead monkey would scale these walls. Would take Cotton's parrot to get up there."

"I know, but there must be a way up, why else built the place at all."
Elanor wandered away from him as she spoke, the sudden spat of light as the lantern passed over a stretch of wall behind one of rock slabs attracting her attention, here the pattern for crystals seemed more intricate, more purposeful, reminding her again of something that she couldn't quite recall.
"What fascinates you so?" Jack was standing beside her, and the irritation in his voice suggested that he had said something to her and that she hadn't heard.
She got no chance to answer him though, for as she opened her mouth she realised that the rock beneath them was moving, and it answered his earlier question about the body for it was moving upwards into the shadows.