White and Black Pearls 3 - Ten Pearl Strand

Chapter Nine

Calypso’s laughter echoed across the waters and over the island, and it kept anybody from hearing the approaching footsteps in the sand.

Two figures came to stop at the top of the rocky hill before the group on the beach below. As the clouds in the sky parted and the moon shone brightly down upon them all, one of the figures stepped forward. “Not tonight,” one of the figures called out to Calypso rudely, cutting off her celebrations.

All eyes from below lifted to the hill. All eyes from below widened in shock.

“Davy!” Calypso blurted desperately upon spotting her once-lover.

“Beckett!” Barbossa belted out after her.

“I see there is no need for introduction then,” Cutler Beckett said curtly as he walked down the side of the hill, his march regal and proper with his hands tucked behind his back. Davy Jones followed behind him slowly but surely, hobbling and struggling along. “But I’m sure you understand that I simply cannot allow you to strike these deals with pirates,” he continued as he looked down his nose at Calypso. “Nor can I allow you the power of the skies alongside the power of the seas. Quite frankly, I don’t believe I can trust any sort of independent power in the hands of either of you women. You’ve managed to make a fine mess so far and it will be me who cleans it up.” He caught Calypso’s hand by the wrist before she could slap him. “Careful,” he said darkly as he gave her wrist a squeeze with a wicked smile. “You don’t want to upset me.”

When her wrist was free and she was over some of the initial shock, Calypso pulled away from Beckett and ran towards Davy, throwing herself at him and wrapping her arms around him. “David,” she whispered against his chest. When she got no response and the embrace was not even returned, Calypso pulled back slightly and looked up at him. “David?” she mumbled. It was then that she noticed the blackness growing across his whole body, covering huge parts of it. “What is this!”

“Black Moss,” Barbossa carped out, taking a step back. Pieces of the puzzle that he didn’t like were starting to fall into place.

Calypso looked over at Barbossa desperately, waiting for further explanation as to why there was a sad, deadened look in her Davy’s eyes and why he didn’t embrace her.

“Calypso…” Davy Jones whispered sorrowfully.

“Indeed,” Beckett said with a smirk. “Black Moss. It was an interesting little discovery I made back in my more adventurous days. You wouldn’t know about it having never been on land and having never to deal with relationships directly aside from squid-face here so I’ll explain it to you.” Beckett reached into the front of his jacket and drew out two small clumps of what appeared to be thickly matted and tangled hair. “This is Black Moss. It is known as the Marriage Root in some cultures, and the Suicide Root in others. When it is ingested by one party, their soul and body both become infected with it, binding them together. The soul then cannot leave the body, but nor can the body grow or change in any way. The infected cannot die by normal murderous or natural means no matter what happens to them, but over time the black moss spreads and grows. Its infection will reach the brain and the core of the body, filling up every organ and the lungs, until it eventually has eaten away and absorbed the entire host’s body. When there is nothing left, the Black Moss dies, and along with it the infected… but by that time it has eaten both body and soul of the infected and there isn’t even anything left to send to the Locker.”

Jack shuddered as he looked up at Davy and their eyes met for a moment. “I’m really sorry mate,” he said quietly.

“Don’t be so quick on the draw Mister Sparrow,” Beckett clipped out as he turned his gaze onto Jack. “You’ve been infected with it too; every dinner roll put into your cell that you ate up so hungrily was filled with the moss as well.” He looked at Calypso again as Jack’s face filled with horror. “But before that foul end comes about, there’s more that can happen. You see, the one who has done the infecting, they become infected too. Immortal in a way, since the infection isn’t nearly as bad as the one the infected suffers through. All that happens to the infector is that their soul too becomes bound to their body.” He waved a hand at himself. “Which explains the question I’m sure is burning on your tongues as to how I’m even here when you all saw me die. I infected Jones when he was under my control, doubly ensuring his compliance with me even if he regained possession of his heart.”

Jack was feeling sick to his stomach then, panicking and running up and down the beach, wiping at his tongue to try and get any Black Moss taste out of his mouth.

“It served as a double benefit it seems, since it kept me alive after that little skirmish at sea. But the cures for the infection…” He grinned anew. “Those are why the Black Moss has its other names. It’s called suicide root because it can be cured if the infector decides to consume some of the original moss used to do the infecting on that person, and the infected will be cured… but the infector will die instantly in a noble but foolish suicide. So I don’t think you should hold out much hope there for a change of heart on my behalf and a decision to kill myself to free your precious Jones.” He waved a hand Davy’s way. “The other cure is much more plausible. It is called marriage root because if the infected is joined in holy matrimony with another, their souls bond together as one under the eyes of God, and the root can only infect one weak soul not two joined ones, so the combination kills off the infection, leaving the infected cured. I thought it was a bunch of foolishness myself when I heard about it, but those thoughts were curbed when I saw first hand the women from the lands this moss came from infecting the men they wished to marry but whose hearts they could not earn. They infected those men, and the men indeed married the women to save their own lives, leaving both parties cured and at least one of them happy.” He nodded at Calypso in acknowledgement of her role in this venture. “Since I’m disinclined to give up my life, that leaves only one cure for your precious Jones: marriage. But he is under my control right now; the will of the infector is the task of the infected. He might as well be my guard dog.”

“What do you want?” Calypso whispered, shaking all over with rage.

Beckett held out his hand. “That bracelet,” he said with an accomplished nod. “And your trinkets as well, the ones that give control over you.”

Calypso’s mouth tightened as her gaze became even more intense, filled with conflict. “I can’t,” she hissed.

“Then I guess you’re going to have to watch your precious Jones die,” Beckett said with a shrug.

She shook all over then, as she looked up at Davy Jones. Their eyes met; Calypso’s dark stare fixed upon the watery, sorrowful gaze of Davy Jones. Her lower lip trembled slightly as she moved her hand and reached into her bag. Slowly she drew her hand out, and in it was a small collection of trinkets; a piece of coral, a tiny fish skeleton, the seedling pod from a piece of seaweed and many other little objects strung together on a second bracelet. She unclasped the pearls from her wrist and added these to the collection of items in her hand before offering them out to Beckett. When he had the items, she looked over at her sister, who was standing on her own and appearing to have given up hope. So she’d been wrong about Celeste and Davy… that changed everything.

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