~~~~~~~~~~

Now don't tell me you didn't enjoy it at the time.

"What? What was that?" Jack muttered, prying open one
eye.

He sat up, surveying his surroundings. Two triangular
Bermuda-rigged sails bellied out, angled to catch a close
wind. The tiller was tied, the rudder cutting a course
roughly North-northwest. Small chop slapped against the
dinghy's hull in a way that made Jack reflexively reach up
to rub his cheek. His coat and effects had been shed, tossed
haphazardly on the stern bench, along with the magic
broken compass. A couple of inches of water sloshed about
his boots. His silent company, an empty rum bottle and a
rolled-up bamboo map, was nestled against his side. And
beyond the confines of his tiny boat stretched miles of
empty blue horizon. All in all, nothing had changed since
the last time he'd been awake--before the noon sun had
risen to its oppressive throne.

He scowled at the no one who'd dared interrupt his nap,
closed the one eye, and flopped back against fiferail.

You'll not be finding what you're seeking without her. Nor
without me.

"All right! That's it." He lunged to his feet, sword drawn.
"Who's having me on?"

"Wasn't us," replied one of his maddeningly ephemeral
selves from the stern seat, its hands held up defensively.
"It's too bloody dangerous out here for hallucinations.
You're on your own, mate." The smirking face disappeared
just as Jack stepped forward with his blade and slashed
through the empty space, careless of the dinghy's
precarious pitch and roll. He frowned and sheathed his
sword.

"If it wasn't me, and it wasn't...him, er, me," he figured,
ticking off the options on his fingers, "there's only one
other voice could be heard out here with any problihood."

That right, Jack. And don't pretend you didn't miss me.

"I haven't had much of a chance to miss you yet," he
pointed out. "You were loosed but two weeks ago."

The wind sighed and shifted, loffing the sails and tugging
at Jack's dreadlocks.

But how long it been since we reached our accord?

Jack closed his eyes as a warm breeze flitted against his
face and arms and conjured ghosts of fleshly touches. He
grinned, swaying happily with the memory. "Ah yes. That
accord."

Wicked man. Mon suzerain...mon malfaiteur.

"I've not suffered ye," he said. He opened his eyes, noting
dark clouds gathering to the east. His spine stiffened. "If I
recall my recollection correctly, after our little rendezvous,
you said that perhaps being trapped in carnal form wasn't
such a bad thing..."

But eventually I had to follow my nature. T'is the way of
things, of gods and men. T'is fate. You cannot cheat fate.

"Pirate!" he said, jabbing at his vest with his fingertips.
"It's my nature to cheat." He hooked his thumbs over a belt
and puffed out his chest.

The waters stilled.

Not a pirate only; there be much more in you, Jack
Sparrow. You want to gain immortality, but first you must
regain what you've lost.

He winced. "The Pearl," he said, deflated as the flapping
main sail.

Yes. There are reparations to make. The Pearl, she's
tainted with ten years' blood. And so are you.

"Bullshit!" He waved a hand in dismissal. "Talk to dear
Hector about that. I'm not responsible for his turpitude."
Jack busied himself with the mainsheet in an attempt to
better angle the boom. "I'm going after that fountain, love,
Pearl or no. And once I find the sweet waters of Bimini, I'll
have all the time in the world to take back my ship."

And you'll be damned! You slipped the Locker, clever Jack,
but there is no escaping Tartarus. The fate of the Black
Pearl and Captain Jack Sparrow is one and the same.
Those were the binding terms. You decide whether she be
wings or weight.

"And why, pray tell, are you suddenly so concerned with
my eternal welfare?" he inquired, hands on hips, glaring at
everything and nothing.

Because you have the power to change things --to make
good. I... Humanity needs you. The world needs you.

"Humanity? Humanity needs me! Oh, that's a pisser."
Jack's torso began to shake violently. A deep rumbling
started low in his chest, bursting forth in raucous peals of
laughter. He wrapped his arms around his body and bent
over double. The spasms continued as his dry howling
whipped into the wind. He stopped at length, choking for
air, and collapsed with his back against the hull and his arse
in the shallow pool of water.
"Same humanity what stopped by earlier today just long
enough to club me noggin and divest me of my shot and
powder and few provisions? I may be a pirate, but even I
never left a man to starve or die of thirst at sea. Or are you
referring to the humanity what absconded with me ship? Or
me life? Or perhaps you're referring to that which turned
me out from an honest living, only to hunt me down like a
dog?" Madness gleamed in his eyes as he snarled, shouting,
"Why, exactly, should I care?" He swept his arms wide in a
grand gesture. "Looks what caring's got me: not one but
two lifetimes of scars, a lost ship, a tiny dinghy, and a
distinct lack of rum. I'm not the right man to save the
world, love. There's no freedom in it. From now on, I'm
going to do right by old Jack."

That's not you--I know better. If it's freedom you want, you
won't find it trying to be someone else, not even hunting for
all eternity. I'm not tasking you with saving the world; this
path is difficult enough.

"You make me head hurt." He ground the heels of his
hands against his eye sockets, trying to press back the pain.
"I thought I was--am already being me. Er, meself.
Meselves, if you include those other dodgy blighters, but I
suppose they don't rightly count..." Jack paused and
frowned, on the verge of hopelessly confusing himself.
"Anyways, what I'm still wondering is how you be obliged
to bestow such preternatural wisdom upon my person.
Nothing comes without a price."

You once showed me what it like to be human--to move and
feel and live while trapped in fleshly confines. After so
many years of loneliness, I'd forgotten. And the joining that
breaks those bonds...

An easterly wind blew, and the ominous clouds boiled
nearby. Jack stood and scanned the horizon for shelter--and
found none. Suddenly he felt very vulnerable.

I'm offering you a taste of what you seek in return.

He squinted and licked his dry lips, nudging the empty rum
bottle with the toe of one boot. "Immortality, eh?"

Just a touch...

"Well, that doesn't sound so ba-"

A wave rose up, canting the boat precariously and sending
his few possessions rolling toward the starboard side.
Jack's arms pinwheeled as he fought for balance. He
reached for the boom to steady himself. But before he
could grasp it, an easterly gale shoved him back, contrary
to the current. His calves slammed against the port rail,
hooking his knees over the edge, and he tumbled
backwards into the water.

~~~~~~~~~~

It crept into his nose and mouth. It soaked through his
clothes, dragging him down. He choked as the brine snaked
its way down his throat.

Jack's eyes flew open. He fought back a nauseating wave
of disorientation and sought visual cues for the direction of
the surface. The black wedge of the dinghy was just a
fathom overhead. He kicked and pulled for the surface, but
he could make no progress. A tingle ran down his spine as
invisible tendrils wrapped around first his ankles, then his
wrists.

Not yet. You must trust me first.

Jack shook his head. His lungs burned. He fought and
struggled to no avail. In a final gust of rage, he lashed out,
kicking and flailing. His curses spewed forth in bubbles and
froth. Then all the air was gone, and Jack waited for the
black veil to fall.

But there was no crushing darkness. He felt a solid mass
brush against his chest. The water around him swirled,
refracting splinters of light into deep blues and greens.

Breathe.

An powerful survival instinct kicked in. He could not
oblige her even if he had wanted to. The ethereal force
surrounded him, spreading from his extremities to his torso
until he was completely paralyzed. It crept up his neck and
pressed against his mouth. A tongue of water wedged
between his lips, between his teeth, and soon the chill of it
spread deep inside him, invading his lungs.

Now I show you what it is to be a god...

Jack raised one eyebrow, amazed that the hand of death had
not begun the process of ripping his soul from his body.
Instead, he became aware of a new and startling sensation--
his center of thought and feeling was no longer trapped
inside his head; it spread throughout his body, and when
the edges of that began to fray, beyond.

I have really, truly gone mad, he mused.

Not any more than usual, Jack.

The goddess's words reverberated through the water. He
felt them shake his entire being, which was becoming less
and less defined with every second. His fingers wavered
before his eyes, melting into swirls and eddies. The ropes
of his hair whipped into the current, the ends of their
sinuous lines fading. He was dissolving.

Oh, shit.

Jack jerked and twisted, trying to free himself from her
grasp. It was more effective than he expected; his body
completely disintegrated. He was flying in all directions.

Bloody a~.

Be calm. Pull yourself together.

So says you.

His clothes went floating by. When he reached for them,
they drifted farther, pushed ahead his grasp.

Very interesting...

He focused, imagining swimming toward the clothes. It
seemed to work, as he perceived being closer. He found
that he could not manipulate the items directly, but he
could move the water around them at will.

I think I'm beginning to get the lay of this.

Jack mulled it over, eventually looking up at the dappled
rays of sunshine.

Not so eager. You must stay in the water.

What if I take the water with me?

He bounded upwards, slicing toward the surface. And then
he burst through, shooting a towering column of ocean into
the sky. For a few seconds, he flew high in the air, shining
and powerful. Free.

Very impressive.

Her words reverberated through him, disrupting his
concentration. And he fell back into the sea with a
resounding crash.

Exasperating, salty, duplicitous...

You wouldn't have me any other way.

Not so easily dissuaded, Jack made for the surface again,
this time with more momentum. The wave rose up, white
foam curling over the top. Jack flew into the wind. Spray
peeled off as he gained speed, and the wall of water
rumbled and shook the air like a broadside from a British
man-o'-war.

You might want to change course...

Just ahead of the rogue wave sat a small, unassuming, and
very familiar dinghy. Jack tried to stop, but it was too late.
The brunt of the force fell upon the beleaguered vessel.
There was an audible snap.

Bollocks!

These things happen. Like you, the sea cannot be tamed.

Indeed. So this is how you cause us poor, lowly sailors
so much vexation, he thought morosely, watching oars,
mast, dinghy, and effects scatter in all directions.

No, Jack Sparrow. This is how...

The floating debris began to circle over him. Suddenly
murky waters swirled around him. The whirling motion
increased in velocity until Jack could barely tell where he
began and ended. She was too strong for him. It was her
domain and he was a mere wanderer: of that she would
leave no doubt. The center of the maelstrom spun a funnel,
which pulled him downward, inescapably deeper, until the
last of his control was finally shattered against the coral
bed, and his salt spilled into hers.

I believe we've reached a new accord.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Mmm. So thirsty. Ah, but a drop..."

Rum. Lots and lots of rum. Jack was surrounded by it.
Swimming in it. And Elizabeth was nowhere in sight. He
was pretty sure he must be dead. But when he tried to drink
of the deep amber liquid, its slow, sweet burn was replaced
with a bitterness that made him wretch.

"Bleedin', slimey, foul--"

A waved lapped over his face, cutting off his tirade and
washing away the last dregs of his dream. Jack spluttered
and wheeled his arms until his head was pushed above the
surface. He registered that there was an oar repeatedly
poking him in the shoulder. He took deep, even breaths,
trying to clear his befuddled mind. Jack took stock of the
situation: he was floating on his back, a dismasted dinghy
and pair of oars bobbed about nearby, and there was not a
speck of land in sight. And he had nary a stitch of clothing.
But he did not panic, being somewhat familiar with waking
up confused, lost, and completely naked.

"Definitely not good," he mumbled. There was an
unhealthy reddish glow to his skin extending from his waist
to his knees, except where covered by tattoos or hair.
"Hm." He spun, awkwardly twisting his body to check the
other side. Assured that his posterior was not similarly
burned, he set about collecting the oars and catching the
boat.

One oar was right next to him, the other only a few feet
away. Retrieving the vessel required more effort. Jack
towed the oars behind him with one arm and stroked with
the other. Aided by several strong kicks, he was finally able
to grab onto the rail. He hoisted the oars over the side and
paused for a moment before pulling himself into the
dinghy.

"Hang the bloody sun," he gritted out between clenched
teeth as his scorched hide scraped over the rail.

Jack slid bonelessly into the hull. He flopped over,
shoulders against the bottom, feet still hanging out of the
boat. A throbbing pain behind his eyes threatened to
overwhelm him when he moved, so he stayed down.

There are more worlds I can show you, if you pursue what
you truly want. Some things simply cannot be shared with
them of fleeting nature. But first find the Pearl, or Fountain
will flow not with water but blood. You see now?

"See what? Me vision's gone all blurry..." he complained,
drawing his hands over his face.

What the Fountain gives depends on who you are. Or who
you choose to be. But once that choice is made, t'is forever.

"My finding the Fountain is going to be a null point very
soon, love," he pointed out. His words were slow and
deliberate. "I just shot my chances of sailing anywhere in
this bucket. There's neither rum nor water. And I
am...decidedly mortal...right now." He closed his eyes,
battling with the growing ache inside his skull.

I can't help you any more. T'is your journey to make.

There was no reply. The only movement was his mouth
opening as his jaw fell slack.

A breeze blew and rocked the small boat. Jack groaned but
did not stir.

This is cheating, you know. You turn everyone into pirates,
even the gods.

He remained silent and still, oblivious to the heavy clouds
rolling overhead.

So be it.

The rains came--not in torrents, but a steady, cool shower
that pattered against the wooden hull. The drops covered
Jack's body, forming tiny rivulets on his face and chest.
Fresh water dripped into his mouth. He swallowed the tiny
amount and licked his lips, searching for more.

Wake up, Jack. There be no rest for the wicked.

A clap of thunder sent Jack scrambling to his feet, only
half-aware, and stumbling over the benches and oars.

"Uh? A-avast! Belay that hellish racket!"

He held onto the tiller for support, swaying even more than
usual. The vertigo did not go away after a couple of
minutes, so he just sat down. As soon as the dizziness
subsided, he slipped off the bench and began scooping up
and drinking the freshwater accumulated on the
floorboards. Even a few sips helped the pain in his head
subside. Then he heard a curious sound. He stood up and
frowned, noticing that the ocean was churning around the
boat. Scuttling noises crept up the outside of the hull. One
stone-gray leg reached over the side. Then another. Jack
soon found himself staring into a pair of pedunculated,
beady eyes.

"Oh, no. Not those grabby little beasties again," he said,
backing away slowly. Another crab joined the first, and
then another, until a dozen and more were perched on the
rail.
"This is not fair! Go away," he said, making shooing
motions with his hands. "Sod off!" He tried to get away.
But the crabs pursued him, and he was running out of boat.
His dancing heels slid on the wet boards, and he found
himself once again on his arse. One persistent crab with a
twitchy eyestalk quickly climbed onto his ankle and began
crawling up his leg. Jack glanced nervously at the claws of
his attacker, which were getting alarmingly close to his
most prized possessions. The crab flexed its claws, clicking
with anticipation, and advanced.

Jack screamed like a distressing damsel. He tried to protect
his goods with one hand and shook his leg while frantically
batting at the creature with the other hand. "All right, all
right! You got me attention!" he shouted, followed by
babbled apologies and curses and something about vile
black teeth. Finally, his hand connected with the crab,
sending it flying into the water. He scooted up against a
bench and stood, panting and eyeballing the gathered army
around him.

"Ye-ow!" Jack yelled, hopping as he pried a claw off of his
foot. He grabbed the offending crustacean and drew back
his arm to lob it. Something fell from the crab with a thunk.
He bent over, retrieving a brick-red bead. The rest of the
crabs followed the first, each of them bearing an item he
had lost to the ocean.

"Ah, my effects!" He gently released the crab into the
water and watched as his possessions were piled up inside
the dinghy. The map appeared, the compass, the sword and
pistol, even the empty rum bottle. Last came his sodden
boots, clothes, and hat. The crabs scuttled away once their
job was done. Jack made a deep, flourishing bow to no
particular direction. "Thank you kindly, me dear." He took
his hat, shook the water off of it, and jammed it down on
his head.

"Gah!"

He gingerly pulled it off again, swearing and cursing. He
touched his forehead; it was hot with sunburn. The hat was
left on the floorboards to collect rainwater. Soon after he
had filled up the rum bottle and the hat was also full to the
brim, the rain stopped. He squinted, shading his eyes with
one hand as the afternoon sun made its appearance.

"Can't let these burns get any worse."

Jack held up his breeches, contemplating. He looked down
at himself, shook his head, and laid the breeches over a
bench to dry. He settled for tying his shirt around his waist.
The soft, worn fabric, when arranged just so, would protect
him from the sun without further irritating the skin. The
long, red head wrap was tied loosely to serve as a hat. He
then took a seat toward the middle, facing astern, and slid
the oars into their locks.

"A new accord, is it?" he said to himself.

"We ssshould cogitate about the ramifications of accepting
that particular proposition prior to pondering said
acceptance, mate" Jack replied helpfully, pointing at Jack.
It was a very drunken and smug self which perched on the
bow, hiccupping and grinning like a fool.

"Muse over the nymph, eh?" Jack said, eliciting an
inebriated giggle from himself. "A surprisingly sound idea,
seeing as how things turned out for Davy, the old scroat.
We, uh, I will have plenty of time for musing, assuming
this all goes to plan. All the time in the world, in fact... And
why is it you're soused and I'm not? Haul off!" Jack
scowled and waved his hands, soon finding himself alone
once again. "If you leeches don't have the decency to share
your imaginary rum, I've no use for the lot of you!"

He wrapped his fingers around the black case of his
compass, pausing for a moment before opening the lid. He
looked at dial, raised an eyebrow, and laughed. Then he
snapped the lid shut. Jack took up the oars and began
rowing, humming quietly to himself.

A smirk played upon his lips. The needle of the compass
was pointing north.

~~~~~~~~~~