White and Black Pearls 2 - One Remaining Pearl

Chapter Thirteen

It had been Jack’s coat next, then his shirt four days afterwards. Next was a bit of his bandanna, and finally… this.

Will stared at the tricorne in his hands in horror. Jack was in serious trouble if he’d given up his hat. He tossed the soaking thing onto the pile of Jack’s stuff on deck, and lifted his gaze to Celeste, his forehead creased with concern.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said painfully. “It makes me worry.”

“Sorry,” Will mumbled, trying not to look so horrified. He scratched the back of his head and found himself struggling to say this nicely enough to keep Celeste from further agitation. “But… how do you know that Jack isn’t… I mean, that somebody hasn’t already… that maybe by chance he…”

“He’s not gone from this world,” Celeste said with a nod that was very sure. She looked at Will for a moment before deciding that she could offer this information to him. “Nobody has passed from this world since Jack went missing, without passing through my barriers. I’ve placed pillars of wind in a solid wall at World’s End, and none may go by without stopping at them and having my blessing to go through. I’ve been examining souls with every passing moment since he left my side, refusing to let his through should it arrive, which it hasn’t.”

The Dutchman’s captain was stunned anew. “You’ve been doing that this whole time, while on the ship here with us, while talking to me?” His understanding of her power grew a little more then, and so did his respect for it and her. “But what happens if his soul does arrive? Surely you can’t hold it off forever.”

Her shining eyes remained steady on Will as she was asked the very question she’d presented herself with the instant the fingers of her powerful tornadoes had touched down to bar off World’s End. “Then I will make the Fair Trade,” she said softly.

“Fair Trade?” Now Will’s attention was fixed so steadily upon her that he had to remind himself to blink.

“One soul is not equal to another,” she said in a whisper, not wishing others to hear as she explained the trade to the Dutchman’s captain. “You know this. All who have any dealings with the passing of souls know this. What you’re not told, even as the man who is meant to guide souls to their intended destinations, is that one soul can be pulled out of the stream headed to the forever beyond the living, if it is replaced with another that is more powerful. The currents and the balances will not be upset at you taking one that belongs to them, if you give them something even better to hold onto. While Jack Sparrow’s soul is high in value for its own reasons – the last estimate upon it was by Davy Jones at one hundred human souls equivalent – it is always trumped by any soul belonging to Those Who Reign.” She touched the middle of her chest, just above the breasts, gingerly. “I let Jack go into that abyss once,” Celeste breathed. “Not again. Never again. I’ll go there first before he does.”

He was deeply moved; this was pure love before him right now; the look on her face, the language of her body, they all spoke clearly of Celeste’s dedication to Jack Sparrow. Any remaining doubts in Will’s mind that she might be doing this to further ruin or wreck anyone’s life evaporated under the heat of his blazing determination to help this woman reclaim her lost love. “And I’m going to see to it that neither of you pass that way,” Will affirmed, grabbing her hand and squeezing it. “Trust in me Celeste. No matter what anyone says, I believe your intentions are good, and your love is pure. I will help you with my last breath if I must.”

Her smile was soft, but reserved as she looked at the fiery-eyed captain. He was so young, so sweet… so idealistic. She didn’t say it, because it would upset him, but she could never allow Will to throw himself to the dogs on her behalf either. He had a wife, and child, and though his brash masculine ability to forget about those things in the face of adventure and excitement was endearing, it was not something she could forget. “Thank you William Turner,” she said softly, patting his hand until he let hers go. “Your words have given me comfort. Please, take your rest now; you’ve been awake for a very long time. I do not want you less than in your best condition for when we arrive at our destination; we are fast approaching.”

Will looked at her as he drew his hand back. He felt like he was being placated but couldn’t put his finger on why. She was right though, he was weary and needed rest. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he said with a nod.

“Sleep well,” Celeste smiled.

The captain of the Flying Dutchman headed to his quarters with a few last orders to his men for the night, before collapsing on his bed. He didn’t even bother getting undressed, falling face first in the sheets and closing his tired eyes. Dreams came to him almost immediately as he drifted into a deep sleep, and images of goddesses and souls balancing on a scale disturbed him until dreams of Elizabeth came and washed his nightmares away.

Bootstrap Bill shuffled along the deck, making sure all the men were doing as they should in his son’s absence, but his gaze drifted over to Celeste and her position on the bowsprit now and again, distrustfully. When he heard her say something, he thought maybe it was the wind because surely she wasn’t calling for him.

“William Bootstrap Turner,” Celeste said again softly.

She was definitely saying his name. A chill ran through and through in his body; nobody had called him William Turner since before he’d been tossed overboard the Pearl strapped to a cannon. He tried to ignore her, but her stare made him feel horribly awkward and he figured that giving her his back would be far worse than possibly listening to whatever it was she had to say. Slowly he made his way over to her but he didn’t answer her.

“You want your son to be safe,” she said in a gentle voice.

He nodded soberly, still not making eye contact and instead looking at her hands.

“I want him to be safe too,” she agreed. Celeste leaned in, lowering her head while looking up, until she caught Bootstrap’s gaze. Once she had it, he didn’t look away, even when she sat back up properly. “I don’t want him anywhere near the actual trouble,” she whispered. “Or any of you for that matter. I didn’t come to you looking for your help to fight, though that seems to be your son’s impression.”

Bill’s eyes widened slightly; he was listening intently now.

“I have recruited this ship and crew not for the voyage towards the battle, but the voyage away from it. No ship can carry Jack Sparrow away safer than a supernatural one with the likes of your son at the helm. I do not expect to come out of this fight on the living side of these realms, but I intend to get Jack onto this ship with every last breath in my body and every last strength I can call up. What I am asking of you is a small betrayal of your son, but for the greater good, to keep him safe and alive. I want you to keep him and the Flying Dutchman here to be Jack Sparrow’s escape vessel while I go and get him.”

A long pause passed between them as Bill looked at Celeste, before he frowned slightly. “And what makes you so sure that I won’t agree to this now but just steer the ship away the instant you’re off it?” he asked quietly.

Her eyes reflected deep hurt and he regretted the question but couldn’t take it back as she replied, “Nothing. Hope. Possibly the off chance that you wouldn’t be willing to upset your son to the extent it would if he realized you’d aided in abandoning Jack in his time of need. But mostly, I know you’re a good man. I watched on that ship as the others tore Jack down in the mutiny. I hated you for a long time, for never lifting a hand to help him… but I know that you couldn’t have done anything even if you had, not to stop that mob. I forgave you for it long ago, and I know that now that you have this chance to do right by Jack and save him instead, you’ll take it.”

Bootstrap Bill nodded slowly, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Tell me what I have to do.”


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More to come....