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Far below Jack Sparrow’s perch in the crow’s nest, the sea was a flat watered silk surface with hardly a breath of air to disturb it. Overhead the sky was a sullen slate grey, burnished with strange tints of copper. The air seemed to crackle with a faint fair off scent of burning and Jack could feel the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. Frowning thoughtfully, he lowered his telescope and ran a hand over his bandanna covered head, feeling his scalp prickling in unease at the scent of the approaching storm.

“Jack!” The sharp hail coming from only a foot below him made Sparrow start in alarm and nearly tumble from his perch.

“Go away,” he growled back, suspecting that as usual he wasn't going to be obeyed. The crew of the Black Pearl could be relied on to obey their Captain’s orders – nine times out of ten anyway. But then there was William Turner, pirate blooded blacksmith, who tended to view Jack’s commands the way a pirate viewed the Pirate Code; as a sort of guideline. Will had been delivering a specially commissioned sword to its new owner and Sparrow had picked him up on the way back to Port Royal. Will hadn't been a good mood about the side trip to Tortuga.

Panting, Will pulled himself up to the crow’s nest and slung a long leg over the edge of the bucket shaped nest, revealing a flash of tanned ankle beneath his short cut breeches. Like most of the crew he had taken to going barefoot. His shirt was open to the belt and his hair was wet from a recent dunking. “It’s hardly any cooler up here,” he observed. “But what a view....”

Jack scowled at him from where he had squashed himself back against the mast. There wasn't a lot of room in the crow’s nest at the best of times and certainly not space for two men unless they wanted to get intimately acquainted with each other. Now, if Will had been a woman with those legs....

Sparrow shook that thought out of his head. “Been at sea too long....” And likely to be at sea even longer now they were becalmed.

“What?” Will gave him a puzzled look.

“Nothing. Did you come to discuss the view, then, mate?”

“No, I came to discuss the fact that we’re becalmed and you’ve been hiding out up here all day.”

“Watching for the weather to change,” Jack said warily. 

“Anamaria said this calm isn't natural.”

“She’s a woman, lad. What does she know? Did she send you up here?” Sparrow eyed him suspiciously and peered over the side to check for her.

Will gave him a level look. “It was my idea. She says you picked up something in Tortuga that you shouldn’t have done.”

“Aye, well, fooling around with doxies will do that for you....” Jack retorted and had the satisfaction of seeing Will blush in embarrassment.

“That isn’t what I meant,” Turner responded indignantly. “Anamaria thinks you bought a box....”

“What box would that be then?”

“You know perfectly well what box. The one Mad Mackenzie wanted to sell you.”

“Oh....that box.....” Jack nodded wisely.  “Don’t know what she means.”

“The cursed box....”

“Don’t know anything about any cursed box.....”

“Oh Jack....”

Sparrow winced slightly. He was starting to dread it when Will used that tone and gave him a reproachful look. Surely the lad was supposed to be the one corrupted, not him. He liked being a pirate and he hadn’t been bothered by his conscience for a long time until Master William came along. “Look, so we’re a bit becalmed, it won’t last. You’re not in a hurry, are you? You sold your sword. Enjoy your last bit of freedom before you get chained to your wench. Think of the welcome dear Lizzie will give you when you get back late.”

“Her name’s Elizabeth....” Will snapped, practically purring her name with the air of the totally, helplessly in love.

Jack rolled his eyes. “And you haven’t even graced her bed yet....” he muttered, eyeing Will with a glint in his dark eyes that could tempt a saint to sin. “Or have you....?”

Will went scarlet again. “There’s no talking to you in this mood.”

“Good. Go below then.”

Will glared at him. “Anamaria says....”

“Here we go,” Jack sighed. “Does dear Lizzie know you talk about Anamaria all the time?”

“Elizabeth! And stop changing the subject. You know you’re in the wrong....”

Jack grinned, flashing a gold tooth at him. “A pirate is never in the wrong.”

The saint in Will was being sorely tempted to take a swing at the Captain. “The box has a curse on it,” he hissed through gritted teeth, determined not to be interrupted again. “No ship that has ever transported it has ever made port again.”

“Makes you wonder how it got to Tortuga then, doesn’t it?”

Will hesitated, then pushed on valiantly. “By land obviously.”

“Tortuga’s an island....”

“So help me, if you say you don’t believe in curses....”

“Now that’d be foolish of me considering. I know all sorts of curses, but as to this curse....” Jack shrugged, widening his kohl rimmed eyes at Will as he tapped ring clad fingers against his temple. “Mad Mackenzie has a sheet loose, lad. How’d you think he got the name?”

“Too much rum and sun perhaps?” Turner retorted sarcastically.

Jack glared at him for that. “I wouldn’t know. But no one believes a word Mackenzie says. He has philosophical conversations with his parrot.”

“You’re impossible!” Will snapped in exasperation and slid over the side of the crow’s nest, sliding rapidly into the rigging and making his way hand over hand back to the deck.

Jack peered after him, absently noting that his skill at sea had improved since his first voyage with the pirate. Certain Will had made it to the deck safely, he lifted the telescope once more to scan the distant clouds.

Peace, only the distant murmur of the waves far below and the creak of the Black Pearl as she oscillated gently along, barely moving at all. Jack was half asleep as he leaned against the mast, one leg popped against the side of the crow’s nest to brace him.

“Capt’n....”

“Curses,” Jack spat as he jumped violently.

Anamaria’s lovely dark face appeared over the edge of the crow’s nest as she pulled herself up into the rigging.

“Arh, me lovely, come a little closer....” Sparrow gave her a friendly leer and edged back against the mast, wriggling his fingers in invitation. There was definitely room for his first mate to get comfortable in the nest with him.

Anamaria ignored him as usual. “Will says you’re lying. You do have da box. He wants to search your cabin for it.”

“What box?” Jack repeated his denial warily. He was starting to fret about the way Will could see through him.

“Da one you bought off Mad Mackenzie.”

“My word as a pirate, love, I bought nothing off him,” Jack assured her with a flourish of his hands.

Anamaria frowned. “Then you won't mind if I help him search your cabin, will you?”

“Now, that’s invasion of privacy....”

“So? Pirates?”

Sparrow glared at her. “Don’t you trust me?” he said mournfully.

Anamaria smiled at him sweetly. “Isn't that what you said when you took me boat?”

Jack winced. “Look, we’re becalmed. It happens. Doesn't mean it’s got anything to do with some hypothetical curse on a box which I didn’t buy...”

“I’ll go and help him.”

“Anamaria, love....” Jack spread his hands wide in appeal as he leaned over the edge of the crow’s nest as she started down.

“Don’t you love me. And your kohl’s starting to run....”

                                                            * * *

“This feels wrong....” Will said uncertainly as he hesitated in the doorway of Jack’s cabin. Anamaria gave him an impatient push in the back and shoved him inside. “Maybe Jack was telling us the truth....”

“Da man doesn't know what de truth is.” Anamaria snapped as she shot a speculative look around the cabin and headed for the large sea trunk under the window. “Are you going to help me or not?”

“Isn't this mutiny or something?”

“Pirates share everything. It’s only mutiny if we didn't tell him first.”

“Even so....” Will muttered, reluctantly shifting aside a velvet drape to peer behind it.

 “Besides, we’re becalmed and I know it’s got something to do with de box. Ooh, will you look at this.....” Anamaria held up a coat of fine red velvet with a silk lining and silver embroidery. “Captain’s a dandy....” She laughed, holding it up against her slim body.

“And your box is too big to be fitting in those pockets, me love,” Jack said darkly from the doorway. “Were you planning on getting your hands on me drawers as well? Or was it a bit of pick-pocketing you were after?”

Anamaria flushed and hastily dropped the coat back in the trunk. “I was looking for the box,” she told him.

“I thought you said you didn't have the box. So why did you come down?” Turner wanted to know.

“Couldn’t have Lizzie hearing about you two shutting yourself away in my cabin without a chaperone, could I? I’d never hear the last of you getting debauched before she’s had a chance to do it herself.”

Will went bright red as Anamaria glanced at him and laughed. “He’s too much a gentleman, Jack. Now where’s de box?”

“No box,” Sparrow said flatly, sweeping them both a bow before he flounced over to the trunk and frowned at Anamaria. “Now, would you be kind enough as to get out of me cabin? I fancy a nap.”

Anamaria glared at him but stomped out, pushing past him. Will followed her more slowly and paused in the doorway, jumping as Jack slammed the lid of the trunk down.

“I'm sorry, Jack,” he mumbled uncomfortably. “Anamaria insisted we looked....”

“You’re going to have to learn to say no to woman, mate. Now would be a good time to learn before Lizzie gets her chains on you.”

“She’s called Elizabeth!” Will snapped and stalked out, slamming the door behind him.

Jack sat down slowly on his bunk, staring at the windows that looked out from the stern of the pirate ship. The storm clouds were growing thicker and more sullen with every breath, seeming to stalk the slow moving vessel. Sinking slowly onto his back, Jack crossed one leg over the other and stared thoughtfully at the roof of his cabin. “Oh, Mack, me old mate, what have you got me into this time....”

                                                            * * *

The storm had hit with a vengeance, blasting the hapless ship with violent winds that set her to tossing and quivering helplessly, heeling before the vicious gusts that tore through her rigging and whipped the sea into a frenzy.  Rain lashed at her and turned the waves into a frothing maelstrom that no one who fell overboard would have stood a chance of surviving.  

Sparrow emerged from his cabin before it hit, timing with uncanny instinct the moment the storm would reach the ship. Now he clung to the wheel, clothes sodden from sea spume and rain, face running with water that he had to constantly scrub from his face with one soaking wet sleeve so he could see. He kept her bows aimed firmly into the current, keeping her head up as the winds threatened to tear down her mast and shred her canvas to scraps.

Will clawed his way along the deck, clinging to anything that presented a handhold until he could reach the pirate captain. “Jack!” he screamed above the raging wind.

“I sent you below with the others!” Sparrow had sent his entire crew below, knowing there was nothing they could do on deck except drown.

“We have to do something!”

“Any suggestions would be welcome!” Sparrow screamed back, then paused to spit out a bit of seaweed that had somehow managed to slap accurately into his mouth.

“We’re going to be wrecked!”

“Nah! We’ll be swamped long before we hit anything!”

Will shook his head, flinging stands of wet hair out of face. “We have to give up the box before this wind tears us apart!”

Jack eyed him narrowly, squinting through the stinging rain. “You were complaining about being becalmed a while ago!”

Clinging to the bucking wheel with him, Will shook his head frantically. “Don’t you see? For all the wind, we’re not moving! “

Jack didn't answer. He was well aware of the unnatural nature of the winds tearing at his ship and it unnerved him. Not that he was going to admit it though. No chance that he was going to admit to the young blacksmith that he might possibly, by some weird chance, have been, well not wrong, but mistaken about the box perhaps....

“Jack! Please...” Will caught at his arm and gave him a pleading look. “She can’t take much more!”

“You think I don’t know that!” Sparrow looked around him wildly, hearing the agonising shrieks and moans of his tormented ship.

“If there’s anything you can do, if the box is here....”

“You honestly think throwing it overboard is going to do any good?”

“Then you do have it!”

“Sod it....” Jack growled bitterly. Blasted cunning young puppy.....

Will however didn't look triumphant, merely relieved as if Jack had somehow given him back hope that had been torn to shreds by the winds. “Where is it?”

“Where you won’t find it!” Jack answered, ducking as a flying fish was hurled past his ear at a rate of knots.

Overhead, the spars creaked violently and a rope snapped, flailing the air like a whip. Jack stared up into the ink black darkness, seeing the electrical snapping of hellish red lights around the masthead. He could feel the icy chill of the winds biting into his bare hands, chewing through to his bones....

Will suddenly dived to his knees, yanking Jack down with him as a solid pulley block went crashing past them to shatter against the rail. The blacksmith’s eyes were wide, his jaw clenched tight as he fought his own fright...

Jack had to admit to feeling a mite nervous himself.... He was used to bad weather, but the sea actually seemed to be aiming things at him,,,,

He had seen strange lights playing over ships before, knew what they foretold. Some called the eerie greenish flickers that danced over the spars, ghosts. Jack didn't know what they were, but he knew he had never seen anything like the hellish lights that made the mast look as it was on fire...

Taking a deep breath, he clawed his way back up the wheel, dragging Turner up with him. “Help me tie off the wheel!” he bellowed into his ear. “I’ll get the box....”

                                                            * * *

Bracing himself for a second against the table with his hip, Jack caught his balance and then set the box down. It was a small box, no more than the size of a small tea caddy, made from a dark polished wood and with a silver lock set in it. In fact, Will was half convinced it was a tea caddy.

“That’s it?”

“Aye, that’s it,” Jack said sourly. “Not much to look at, is it?”

“No...” Will admitted dubiously.

“Hardly looks cursed at all....”

“No....” Will agreed even more dubiously.

“That’s because it isn’t!” Sparrow exploded in frustration.

Will lifted his head and gave him a hurt look. “You said you didn't have it.”

“I said I hadn't bought it.”

Turner glared at him. “You lied....”

“Not exactly. More sort of evaded telling you everything.  I didn’t buy it. I only agreed to take it to Port Royal for Mack. He promised me the box wasn't cursed or I’d never have touched it....”

“Oh Jack....” Turner groaned. “How could you?”

Sparrow’s eyes glinted with glee. “He paid me well for it.”

“And I suppose the gold got in the way of your common sense...”

“I never mentioned gold,” Jack protested hastily, but Will wasn’t listening.

“...because otherwise you’d never have listened to a man no one believes a word of?”

“Ah.....well, me and Mack go back a long way. I trust him.”

“Please, don’t say anything about the pirate code,” Will moaned. “Maybe he told you the box was cursed, but what about the contents?”

Sparrow glared at him and fished out a length of fine chain he wore beneath his sea damp shirt. “Look, ‘tis nothing but a few gems he wants to sell to a certain man in Port Royal. Being as Mackenzie’s a mite noticeable what with the parrot and all...”

“And you’re not?”

“....he asked me to attend to it for him.”

“And you promised to take him all the profits the same way he told you the box wasn’t cursed?” Will waved an eloquent hand at the ceiling where the sea crashed noisily across the upper deck. His eyes widened. “You weren’t going to ask me to get involved in this were you?”

Screwing up his nose in disgust and muttering under his breath, Jack shoved the key into the lock and gave it a brisk turn. A bright glitter greeted him as he cracked open the lid. “There, see? Gems....”

“Gems can be cursed....” Will said briskly, leaning forward to peer into the box.

Shaped of black crystal, the hollow eyes of a perfectly carved skull stared back at him, winking with the glitter of blue fire in their depths. Turner recoiled, bumping into an equally startled Sparrow.

“Well, now, that’s interesting....” Jack murmured as he recovered from his surprise and leaned forward to peer at the skull. “What’s this then? Black diamond maybe?”

Grabbing his shoulder, Will pulled him back. “Don’t touch it!”

“Why? Not scared are you?”

“Yes! Listen!”

“Listen to what?” Jack sniffed. “There’s nothing.....”

He stopped, head cocked as he listened intently. The tremendous noise of the waves had stopped, the creaking of the ship had faded into a gentle languorous murmur and the roar of the wind had dropped to a peaceful sigh....

“Oh....”

Will was already leaping for the door, bounding off out of the cabin and out onto the deck. With an uneasy glance at the silently staring skull, Jack raced after him and scrambled after the younger man into a thick as carded wool fog. He walked into Turner who jumped a foot and nearly punched him before he recognised the pirate captain and grabbed hold of his arm instead. The two of them stood close together, feeling the damp chill of the pallid fog licking their skin. The sound of the wind was like something breathing out in the unseen mists....

Jack was the first to move, prowling towards the rail, cursing as he tripped over a stray bucket. He peered over, staring down at the water that lay glass smooth and grey green beneath their keel.

“Are we aground?” Will worried, coming up beside him.

“No, we’d have known it if we hit a shoal.” Turning, Jack peered up at the mast, studying the ghostly shape of the lower spars. Scowling, he started to peel out of his wet full skirted jacket.  “I’d best go up and have a look from the crow’s nest, see what I can see.”

“You want me to do it?”

“No, go look below. See where the others are. They should be on deck by now....”

                                                            * * *

It was a long climb up the mast, picking his way slowly from barely glimpsed rigging to spar to mast. Each handhold was slick and greasy to the touch and several times as he slipped, fright leapt through him as he scrambled precariously upwards. But he wouldn’t have sent Will aloft. His sea legs he might have found, but the young blacksmith was nowhere near skilled enough for this climb. Jack had seen more experienced men fall from the mast in better weather than this and he had no wish to be washing bits of Will Turner from the decks.

Finally he swung one leg over the edge of the crow’s nest and collapsed gratefully inside. Once he had caught his breath, he dragged himself to his feet and peered out into the gloom. From the height of the mast, the fog was indeed thinner as he had hoped. But still all he could see was the empty sea with barely a ripple of movement in sight.

“Jack!” Will’s voice sounded faint and far away, muffled by the fog.

“There’s nothing to see, mate!” Jack called back.

“There’s no one on board but us either!”

“What?” Jack nearly fell out of the crow’s nest and made a hastily grab at a rope handhold, winding his fingers into a firm grip. His stomach churned uneasily for he couldn’t see the ship below let alone young Turner.

“I said, there’s no one else on board! Everyone’s gone.”

“That can’t be! There’s nowhere for them to go.”

“Tell them that! Please, Jack, come down and look for yourself....”

Will sounded scared and Jack bit his lip, looking out again into the eerie fog that rippled and swirled around the ship in a way that no natural fog would do. Was it his imagination or could he see faces in that mist?

“Jack, please?!”

The lad was definitely scared and Jack was not naturally a cruel man. “All right, lad, hold your sail. I'm coming...”

A crackle from overhead made him look up, focusing on the wan greenish light that played fitfully around the masthead.

The mournful cry that echoed out of the fog made him jump in fright and he clutched at the mast, looking round wildly as it seemed to go on and on, screaming in anguish as if the ship was having her heart torn out....

When it finally faded away, the silence seemed even louder.

No bird had made that terrible sound....

There was a tremendous crash from below, the surging gush of water struck by great force and the whole ship lurched and dipped, nearly throwing Jack from his perch as she wallowed to starboard

Clawing his way out of the bottom of the nest where he had been thrown and favouring his wrist where it had twisted against the rope, Jack once more peered deckwards. If the Black Pearl listed much more she would swamp....

“Will! What’s going on down there?! Are you all right?!”

There was no answer but the return of that dreadful sobbing scream that snatched Jack’s voice away in dry mouthed terror....

The ship lurched again, bobbing upwards with a surge that once more nearly threw Jack from the nest.

A huge splash sounded somewhere off to starboard and when he looked he thought he saw a thick grey black eel like something vanishing into the waves.....

“Will?!” His own alarm alarming him, Jack slung one leg over the side of the nest and grabbed for the ropes, sliding agilely hand over hand downwards as fast as he could to get to the deck....

Will felt his skin crawl as he crept down the ladder into the muffled silence below decks. Shreds of mist wriggled even here, sliding away as he walked past them and making him shiver with their cold clammy touch. Anamaria’s cabin was empty when he checked, but thinking she would be with the crew, he picked his way down the gangway to the galley. It too was empty; tankards left half full on the galley table, a plate of stew half empty, a handful of playing pieces left on a board....

Feeling more and more uneasy Will crept onwards, venturing into the hold where the crew’s hammocks swung gently like some spider’s giant cocoons.

On the ladder down to the brig and the bilge, he hesitated, aware of the smell before and feeling only a rising dread at the thought of going down into the darkness. Down there only the thin width of the ship’s planning separated him from the depths of the ocean....

“Ahoy! Is anyone there?” he started to call, lifting his voice urgently. “This isn't funny....”

No one answered him. Only the lonely creak of a ship abandoned....

The confines below decks was suddenly too much and he fled back to the upper decks, needing open air. Racing up onto the deck, he got thick fog that smelled vaguely of rotting seaweed rather than the ocean.

Stumbling over to the mast, he clutched at the solid security of the wood and peered upwards into the fog, hailing the Captain. To his relief, Sparrow answered promptly but sounded unconvinced by Turner’s tale of the missing crew. Still he agreed to come down and Will started to relax a fraction, only to freeze in horror at the terrible cry that ripped through the fog and made him shudder to his bones.

For one terrifying moment he thought Jack had slipped and at any second would tumble out of the fog....

Then something slammed into the side of the ship, tossing the startled blacksmith from his feet as she dipped violently towards the side. Will slid across the deck, scrabbling frantically for a handhold....

A grey black eel like something snaked through the air, questing across the deck, groping with snake like hunger...

Will grabbed a rope and clung to it, curling up into a tight ball as the tentacle twisted across the deck leaving a slimy path across the fog wet decks. It groped towards him, seeming to sense where he was....A spiky tentacle tip touched his foot, started to slither over bare flesh to curl about his ankle....

Turner grabbed for a marlinspike and without thinking, drove it into the tentacle with all his strength, pinning it to the deck’’.

The tentacle convulsed, ripped free and recoiled as the ear sundering scream rang out once more....

And the Black Pearl leapt upwards, shedding the weight that had heeled her over in the water and sending Will slithering back the other way to slam into the mast with bone bruising force.....

                                                            * * *

“Will? Will, lad, wake up....”

The burning taste of rum dribbling between his lips brought Turner choking and spluttering back to life, avoiding the flask Sparrow held to his mouth.

“Ah, good, you’re alive then,” Jack said with cheerful humour. “I was starting to think I’d be throwing you over the side....”

Will glared at him as he struggled into a sitting position and gingerly felt the back of his head. Squinting slightly, he peered at the mast beside him and then turned back to the Captain. “What happened?”

Taking a mouthful of the rum, Jack slapped the stopper back into the flask and tucked it away inside his shirt. “You hit your head.”

“I know I hit my head! What happened before that? What was that thing?”

“Thing?” Jack eyed him cautiously.

“That, that thing. With the tentacles! It grabbed me. Didn’t you hear it scream?”

“When it grabbed you?” Jack asked interestedly.

“Before that! Then when I stabbed it....”

“Wasn’t you that screamed then?”

“Jack!” Exploding in exasperation, Will flailed his way to his feet, noting the hand Jack casually tucked under his arm barely long enough to steady him. He led the way across the deck, aware that the fog seemed to have lightened a little.

The marlinspike was where he had left it, still driven into the wooden decking that had splintered where the creature had pulled free of it.

“There? See?!”

Jack folded his arms, eyeing the spike. “You’ve been damaging my ship, Master Turner,” he observed sourly, then crouched lithely to examine the spike and the shreds of grey black skin and scraps of reddish grey flesh still secured to the deck by it. Worrying the marlinspike free, he held it up and examined the shreds carefully, sniffing them gingerly. “Looks like sharkskin,” he observed. “But it don’t smell like shark and the flesh is the wrong colour for it.”

“Aren’t you going to taste it too?” Will asked sarcastically.

Jack cocked his head to one side and brought the flesh to his lips, then laughed at Turner’s horrified expression and shook his head. “I'm not of a mind to be poisoned!”

Will pulled a face in exasperation and crouched beside him. “What is it then? A sea monster?” he suggested tentatively.

Jack looked at him slowly, then lifted his head and gazed out into the fog. Out there in the mists something moved and water slapped, vibrating along the hull of the ship. “There’s some as would say there’s no such thing as sea monsters,” he said softly.

“And some as would say Captain Jack Sparrow’s fought two before breakfast.”

Jack grinned engagingly at him, brown eyes sparkling with amusement. “Ah now, that would be an exaggeration seeing as there was only the one of them.”

Will grimaced in exasperation. Half the time he never knew whether to take Sparrow’s words for truth or lie. Too often he had thought he lied, only to be proved wrong. Jack was a lot more than he seemed and far more than an average pirate.

Sparrow unfolded himself and ambled over to the side with a lazy stride. The smooth polished top rail was scarred and splintered where something had torn into it. “Ah....” he said thoughtfully as he patted the rail gently.

“Ah?” Will prompted, peering over his shoulder at the scars and reluctant to come any closer to the water than he had to.

“Aye, ah.....”

“You have to be the most exasperating man alive!” Turner spat. “What is it?”

“Sea monster...”

“Jack!”

“Kraken, maybe a giant squid, but a kraken I’d say.”

“There’s no such thing!”

Jack cocked his head to one side, gazing mildly at the younger man. “You’re the one who mentioned sea monsters.”

“Yes, but, but.....”

“You know anything else with long tentacles that could half sink a ship by merely giving her an affectionate cuddle?”

Will ran both hands through his hair and winced as a bruise protested. “What about the crew?” he said desperately. “Where’d they go? Where’d this fog come from? What has this got to do with the box?”

“Good questions all of them. You’re sure the crew’s missing?”

“Vanished completely.”

Jack sniffed and handed him the marlinspike. “Best go take a look then....” he said easily and ambled off towards the hatch.

Flinging aside the marlinspike with a disgusted look, Will raced after him, unwilling to be left alone on deck with nothing but the fog....

                                                            * * *

“Are you serious? You’ve really seen a kraken?” Will gazed at Sparrow wide eyed as he followed the pirate along the companionway.

“Aye. Would I lie to you?” Jack said soberly.

“Yes.”

Sparrow gave him a slow look and a rueful little grin quirked his lips. “Aye, so I would. But not this time. I saw a kraken true enough. It was a small one. Got itself beached....Oddest looking creature I ever did see. Tentacles as long as a ship with suckers the size of soup plates full of claws. Beak like a parrot but razor sharp and big as a cave....Must have had quite an appetite....”

“So you didn't fight it before breakfast?”

Jack grinned. “Beached itself in terror on hearing that I was in its waters no doubt.”

Will snorted, but the tale had lifted his spirits and he looked around the ship’s galley as they entered with less trepidation than he had felt before. “Where’d you think they’ve gone?” he asked uneasily however.

“Ah now, maybe we should be asking where we’ve gone?”

“What?”

“A philosophical point, lad, savvy? Maybe we were killed and this is...what comes after....”

Turner stared at him. “But that thing attacked me, I know it did....”

“Demon....” Jack said succinctly.

“It wasn’t a demon!”

“How do you know? You ever seen one?”

“No! And don't go telling me you have! Jack! You’re not taking this seriously. What if the, the kraken comes back? It could sink the ship.”

“A good broadside will discourage it,” Sparrow mused as he fished into his pocket and took out the compass that was never far from his side. Popping open its cover, he gazed at it thoughtfully and watched its needle spin ineffectively around the dial, worrying him with its lack of decision. Finally, it settled, quivering but pointing over his shoulder towards the stern of the ship and the Captain’s cabin. He closed it gently and tucked it away again, looking up into Will’s worried brown eyes. “Shall we go see what the box is doing, lad?” he suggested quietly. “It would seem it has more to do with this than we might think....”

                                                            * * *

The box was exactly where they had left it, sitting in the middle of the table with the black skull staring at them, the twin points of light deep in its sockets glowing with the same unnatural blue eyes. The greyish light through the windows that made up the stern of the ship and the captain’s cabin lent a slick oily shimmer to its sleek crystal surface.

“I think it’s staring at us,” Will whispered as he and Sparrow hesitated in the doorway.

“Hasn’t much option, has it? Not having eyelids and all....” Jack whispered back.

Turner turned his head and gave him an incredulous look. “You.......”

“Yes?” Sparrow grinned.

“Never mind. What do you do now?” Will said through gritted teeth.

“Me?”

“You’re the captain as you’re so fond of reminding me.”

“And as such I can order you to do something about it.”

“And I can remind you that I don't have to do what you won’t do yourself.”

“Who says?”

“Pirate code.”

“Guidelines,” Jack sniffed, but he looked annoyed.

Will waited to see what he would do next, eyeing him hopefully. Sparrow however merely folded his arms and leaned negligently against the doorframe, crossing his long legs at the ankles.

“It’s your fault...” Turner prompted.

Jack quirked an eyebrow at him. “Since when?”

“You’re the one who opened the box....”

“At your prompting.”

“But you brought it on board. And as captain it’s your responsibility,”

Sparrow rolled his eyes. “What did I do to deserve being landed with a conscience?” he muttered darkly. “It’s a sour thing for a pirate to have.”

Will flashed a grin at him. “Having a conscience is what got you marooned by Barbossa, so you can’t blame me for it....” he reminded him.

“But you didn't have to go and polish it now, did you?” Jack snorted irritably. “What do you expect me to do anyway? I don’t know what this curse is. Do you?”

Nibbling his lower lip, Will leaned against the door frame on his side, unconsciously copying Jack’s pose. “Well, it started when you brought the box on board....”

“Not until we got well out to sea it didn’t. And the weather calmed down when we opened it....”

“But the crew disappeared and we got attacked by the kraken,” Will slid an uncomfortable look at the captain. “Maybe if you put it back the crew would come back....”

“And we’d be back to being on the verge of sinking? Not good....” Sparrow’s expression was unreadable as he studied the skull; eyelids or not he was half sure it was winking at him. But it might have been the motion of the ship making the light shift across it.

“We have to do something.”

“Do we?”

“We’re going nowhere fast and how long can we survive adrift at sea with a kraken after us?”

Jack half shrugged. “For all we know we can sail all the way to Tortuga if we want.”

“You don’t believe that any more than I do.”

“We could raise the sails and find out.”

“And abandon the crew?”

“Those that fall behind....”

“Jack.....” Will murmured reproachfully.

Sparrow scowled at him. “All right, all right, it was only a thought.....”

“Didn’t Mackenzie tell you anything about the box?”

“Other than that there was no curse? No. What did Anamaria tell you about it?”

“That no ship that ever carried it ever made port....” Will said gloomily.

“Can’t believe all you hear,” Jack pointed out. “One at least must have.”

“Or maybe it was thrown overboard before it could sink them....?” Will suggested, brightening up.

A slow grin spread over Sparrow’s face. “Now there’s an idea,” he smirked, but the smile faded uncertainly. “But will it bring the crew back?”

 “Oh....” Turner slumped in disappointment.

“They could be safer than we are,” Jack murmured. “I think....” He looked at the skull slowly, frowning at it. “It wanted to be at sea or it wouldn't have let us sail,” he said carefully. “And it singled us out from the crew. Why?”

“We let it out of the box. We’re the ones who saw it first.”

“Maybe. A cursed skull, but cursed to do what?” Jack wondered, shaking his head.

“Where did Mackenzie get it from?”

“He said Barbossa sold it to him. Maybe that’s why he thought there was no curse. Maybe one curse cancels another out....”

“Or it was lying in wait until it got what it wanted?” Will said nervously, licking dry lips. “They weren’t exactly....alive.....after all.”

Jack gave him a critical look. “So what does it want?” he said softly and stirred, standing away from the door frame to amble over the table and glare down at the skull. “Well?” he demanded impatiently. “What is it you want from us?”

“Do you expect it to answer?” Turner asked dryly, but he had followed Jack and stood close to his shoulder, staring at the skull as if defying it to move.

Jack turned his head slightly to eye him, a faint smile playing around his lips as he studied the nervous look on his face. He could almost see his tension increasing as he leaned slightly towards him and whispered in his ear, “Boo!”

Will jumped a foot and shot backwards, grabbing for his sword as Sparrow laughed. “That wasn't funny!”

“Oh, yes it was!” Jack chortled back, suddenly feeling better.

Will’s eyes had rounded however and he pointed past Jack at the skull, a flicker of panic crossing his face.

“You don’t catch me out that way,” Sparrow snorted, then hesitated, wondering where the ghostly blue shimmer playing over Turner’s face was coming from. Very, very slowly, he turned his head to look over his shoulder....

The skull was glowing vibrantly as if lit from within by an intense blue black fire....

Jack leaped away from the table as if it had scalded him and collided with Will in the hatchway. For a second they clung to each other, then Sparrow pulled himself together and wrenched free, turning to face the skull again.

“I don’t know what you’re bloody up to,” he snarled. “But I'm not having it! You’re not having me, Will, my crew or my ship!”

“Maybe you shouldn’t provoke it,” Will whispered, catching at his arm.

“Maybe it should stop provoking me!” Jack yelled indignantly. “I haven’t done anything to it! I'm innocent!” he could feel Will’s eyes boring into him and waved one hand wildly. “Well, innocent of this anyway! But if you, it, whatever you are, don’t stop glowing right now I'm going to carve you into little bits and sell them....”

“Throw them overboard?”

“Overboard?”

“Yes.”

“Throw them overboard!”

Jack’s threats didn't seem to impress the skull. If anything the glow grew brighter and brighter, painfully dazzling their eyes until both men were forced to look away.

Swearing under his breath, Jack grabbed Turner’s arm and towed him out of the cabin, slamming the door shut violently behind him.

The glow pierced through the gap beneath the door, casting an eerie shimmer over their feet. Mist eddied with it, swirling slowly and forming icy little fingers that licked at cloth and skin in a chill wind....

Will and Jack retreated hastily. At the steps they paused to watch the mist slowly rolling along the deck after them.

“I think you annoyed it,” Will murmured.

Jack snorted. “Good!” he spat irritably, frowning at the mist. “Where’d I leave me jacket?”

“You’re worried about your jacket now?”

“No, I'm cold!” Sparrow exploded sarcastically and gave him an exasperated look before he turned to bound towards the mast. With a nervous glance at the mist, Will followed him, glad to be back in the open air even if it was thick with the bands of grey fog drifting across the ship.

Sparrow had found his jacket and was busily going through the assortment of bits and pieces in the voluminous pockets. Spare pistol balls, a power flask, a red garter ribbon that made Jack smile in wicked reminiscence and finally a packet of papers that he pounced on with glee.

“Ah hah!” he yelped, sitting down cross legged on the deck to slice off the sealing wax with his knife.

“Ah hah?” Curious, Will crouched beside him.

“Mackenzie gave me these to take to Port Royal for him. To go with the box they were. I thought nothing of it. Mack’s turned merchant on me. True, he’s not very good at it, but he makes the effort and I like to help him out....”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Will said in surprise. “You really were going to do as he asked and take the profits back to him.”

“We made a bargain. We shook on it.....The scurvy sea rat that he is! He double crossed me this time!”

“Never trust a pirate?” Will murmured sweetly.

Jack gave him a fierce glare. “Like I said, he turned merchant. I should have known better...” He shook his head, staring at the papers in his hand. There was a lost look in his eyes, a hurt look....

“Maybe he didn't know, Jack,” Turner offered consolingly. He didn't want to see Jack thinking his friend had betrayed him. It made him ache inside for the loss. He wished suddenly to see Elizabeth again, to hold her..... Desperately, he shook the feeling off. “If Barbossa sold it to him, you can wager he wouldn't have told him.”

“No....” Jack lifted his head slightly and shrugged a little, then started to unfold the papers. “A map....” he said quietly, smoothing the crumpled parchment across his knees.

A chill shivered through the blacksmith and Will shifted round to sit closer, suddenly lonely and wanting to be close enough to sit with his shoulder touching that of the older man. The light contact made him feel less despondent about their plight. “Anywhere you recognise?”

“No.” A dark glitter sparkled in Jack’s eyes. “It’s not a treasure map if that’s what you’re thinking, lad. Pirates don’t make treasure maps despite the stories.”

 “Don’t they?” Will was genuinely interested.

“Loot gets shared out and as soon as we get it, we spend it. You only get maps in books.”

“What this then?” Will teased.

“A puzzle. You know what these squiggles are?” Jack stabbed a finger at the parchment.

“No....”

“Aztec,” Jack said grimly. “That’s what, they are! MacKenzie’s lumbered us with another Aztec bloody curse. I reckon this is a map of where the blasted thing was found by them, them....concubines!”

“I think you mean conquistadors, Jack,” Will suggested with a weak grin. “You’re getting a bit excited....”

Sparrow gave him a sharp look, then suddenly let his grin sparkle out from hiding. “You’re right, lad.” The smile wavered, fading as he gazed thoughtfully at Will and realised how close he was. “You feel it too?”

“Feel what?”

“A cold sadness, loneliness.....”

Turner nibbled his bottom lip uncertainly. “I was thinking of Elizabeth....I thought you were....upset about MacKenzie betraying you and that made it worse....”

“More of the curse. Never had no problems with melancholia before....A good swig of rum soon fixes it.....Want some?” Jack fished out his flask.

“Any excuse for a drink?”

“Don’t need an excuse,” Jack snorted as he took a brisk swig and offered Will the flask again.

Will took it and sipped, then handed it back hastily.

“Put hairs on your chest....”

“I don’t think Elizabeth would like hairs on my chest....”

“Well, there certainly aren’t any on hers....” Jack cackled. “And I've probably seen more of it than you have. What with stripping off her corset and all....”

“Jack....” Will began with a snarl, then caught himself.  Sparrow was no more than being his usual annoying, taunting, provocative self. Elizabeth had chosen him, blacksmith Will Turner over several other better choices. He had nothing to fear from anyone else. She loved him....

“Aye, Will, she does....” Jack said softly, startling Will into looking up at him and blushing as he realised he had spoken aloud. “You’re a lucky lad to have a woman like that. I envy you that if not the shackles she’ll put on you.”

“I’m looking forward to it!”

“Kinky.”

“Not like that! I mean.....Oh, you know what I mean!”

“Aye, so I do,” Jack chuckled, clearly feeling better enough to turn to examining the other papers. “Ah....” he said softly as a slim volume slid out of the packet into his hand. “We appear to have a journal....” With Will peering over his shoulder, he started to read. “So,” he said after a few moments. “They got lumbered with it same as we did. Some idiot historian bought it and wanted to ship it home....”

“On the Barracuda?” Will said after a moment. “I know that name....”

“Aye, you should. Norrington was after the ship that attacked her. The historian kicked up a big fuss when she turned up in port without his precious cargo.”

Turner considered this. “Wouldn't happen to have anything to do with the particular ship we happen to be on right now, would it?”

“Bad things happen to cursed ships,” Jack mused. “Barbossa appears to have been one of them. That must be how he got hold of the skull. Probably thought it might help him with the curse. By the way, even if this here journal does tell of the curse, Mack wouldn't know about it.”

“What was to stop him reading it too?”

Jack smiled mirthlessly. “Mack can’t read, but he won’t admit it unless he has to. He wouldn't have been interested enough in this to get anyone to read it to him.” He flicked over a few more pages of the book, idly studying a page here and there. “Hmmh......look at this, lad.”

“It would seem we’re not the only ones who suffered from melancholia,” Will said quietly as he read the passage Sparrow indicated. “It must be the curse then. If the Barracuda’s crew was uneasy too....”

“But none of them disappeared,” Jack commented thoughtfully.

“Maybe Barbossa got to them first.”

“Could be,” Jack agreed quietly as he frowned. “These waters were Barbossa’s favourite haunts. The crew of the Barracuda might have been lucky at that.”

“To have been attacked by the Black Pearl?”

“To have survived being attacked by Barbossa. And if getting the skull off the ship broke the curse all we have to do is chuck it overboard,” Sparrow corrected. He shivered as a gust of cold wind blasted suddenly around them, setting the jacket draped across his knees to flapping. Curious, Jack looked up at the mast head, a semi invisible tree groping upwards through the fog. His dark eyes widened as the fog was pulled this way and that, twisting into new leering shapes in the half darkness. “Interesting....”

“What is?” Will followed his gaze upwards but could see nothing.

“Can’t you see them?” Jack shot a sharp look at him.

“See what?”

“The faces, so many faces....”

“No, I...” Will paused, feeling a sensation of dread crawling across his skin as the blank canvas of the fog started to resolve itself into contorted screaming faces. They spun around the ship, a vast wall of faces leering down at them, silently jeering and mocking them....

“Like a crowd watching a hanging....” Jack said bitterly.

The scream erupted out of the fog, rising and falling with an eerie screech that torn metal and rending wood, like the sound of a ship breaking her heart on the shoals....

Jack shuddered and pressed his hands to the smooth wood of the mast behind him, feeling a quiver run through his ship. “Easy, girl, easy.....I’m here....” he whispered in instinctive comfort.

“Jack! Look!” Turner bounded to his feet, pointing out into the fog as a dark vast shape loomed up like a nightmare.

A tentacle lashed out of the gloom, a razor edged whip to take the skin from a man’s body....

Jack kicked Will’s feet from under him and grabbed the blacksmith, rolling away into the shelter of the deck hatch as the tentacle’s lash slammed into the deck where Will had stood. It groped for them, probing and thrashing then whipped back over the side with the quickness of a snake.

“You bloody idiot! You don’t have to stand up to get its attention!” Sparrow growled at Will in exasperation, tempted to smack the blacksmith round the ear but certain Turner would only hit him back.

The kraken screamed again and in response the ghostly faces in the fog screamed and gibbered, cheering it on....

The ship shuddered and bucked, clutched at from below, her timbers creaking as the kraken seized her. Tentacles swarmed over her sides, worming their way across the decks in a writhing vampiric hunger for flesh and blood....

 A barbed tip smashed through the hatch cover, showering the men with splinters and shards of wood.

Jack moved first, slithering frantically away from the hatch as Will scrambled after him.

A second later and the tentacles burst upwards through the deck where they had been flailing wildly in search of them before ripping free of the hatch in disappointment and withdrawing over the side.  

“Stop attacking my ship!” Sparrow yelled in outrage, scrambling to his feet. Drawing his sword, he laid into the nearest tentacle, hacking it in two. Greyish red blood burst from the severed tentacle, pouring across the deck as the horrible scream deafened them and the remains of the tentacle retreated. “Oh, no you don’t!” Jack sped after it, determined to get in a few more blows before it escaped him.

“Jack!” Will screamed as he lunged after him, but he wasn’t quite quick enough to catch up as a new tentacle exploded out of the fog, lashing towards the pirate captain with terrifying speed. It caught Sparrow across the back, lifted him off the feet and sent him hurtling across the deck to crash into the steps leading to the forecastle. The tentacle went after him, barbed point aimed like a marlinspike at its victim.

“No!” Turner caught up before it could spear the captain. As the tentacle reared up to lunge, Will slashed out, slicing the barbed tip off so that it was a bloody club that slammed into the deck as Jack rolled groggily aside.

The kraken screamed, its tentacles beating the fog to cream and the waves to froth that boiled up over the sides of the trapped ship.