White and Black Pearls 2 - One Remaining Pearl

Chapter One

She looked up then, and Will looked up as well, curious about what she was staring at. His eyes widened as he watched the clouds above begin to swirl and change from cotton white to a dark and sinister black. “I have a bad feeling about this,” he said to himself as he watched the clouds stretch out and seem to reach for each other while swirling together. A lead ball sank down to the pit of his stomach as they began to form a funnel.

“Order your men to stay below deck where they’ll be safe,” Celeste called out politely over the increasing roar of the winds as the boat began to rock and waves crashed against the Dutchman’s sides.

“I would think it more than likely my father’s already done that,” Will called back. “But what about me?”

Celeste pointed to the main mast. “Hold on tight,” she beckoned.

When Will did as told and went over to the mast, he glanced over to where she’d been and saw that she was gone. His head turned sharply when he heard a metallic clank however, and he frowned as he saw that a set of shackles left over from Davy Jones’ time as captain of the ship had clapped shut around his wrist. “Women,” he hissed. His anger didn’t have time to fester, however; Will’s eyes went wide as he lifted his gaze again and saw the funnel cloud’s finger extending down towards his ship, and growing. He paled as it continued to swell, until it was a yawning, wide open hole in the sky. Up through the middle of the funnel cloud he could see the clear, blue expanse of sky, but all around him the funnel cloud was touching down. Lightning struck the ocean all around the ship as thunder boomed, and Will shielded his face from a huge wave that struck the ship and soaked him to the bone. “Celeste!” he bellowed. “This is madness, what are you doing!” Again his concentration was broken as he heard an eerie, deep groan. He knew that noise, he’d heard it enough times while ships were being dragged beneath the sea by the Kraken.

Ice rushed through his veins as the Flying Dutchman shook, and began to lift. He gasped and lifted his head again when the ship rocked violently, tossing him to one side and suddenly making him thankful he was chained to his vessel. Will gripped the chains hard as he was spun back to the other side and the groaning got louder. His whole ship creaked and roared in protest as it was lifted out of the water and began to rise into the air, yet strangely the Flying Dutchman seemed to be unharmed. The masts remained firm, and not even a sail was blown out of place as the distance between the water and his ship grew greater and greater. The wall of swirling clouds around either side of the Dutchman prevented Will from being able to see just how high they were going, but as he was slammed down against the deck of the ship when it began to rise too fast for him to resist gravity, he knew that all reality as he understood it was slipping through his fingers yet again. Just when he thought he couldn’t see or experience anything stranger than the things he’d gone through so far, something like this came along and lowered his expectations even further.

When the roaring, the wind and the motion seemed to stop, Will was left on his back on the deck of the Flying Dutchman. He was shivering, and he was soaked through and through. His wrist was raw from where he’d been chained, but he was alive and his ship seemed to have survived just fine. The captain turned his head to the side and coughed up water a few times before taking a deep breath, and he sat up slowly, looking around. He spotted Celeste sitting calmly on the base of the bowsprit, dry as a bone. Will got up to go march over to her, but paused when he was held in place by his chains. Reaching for his waist, he removed the key ring from his belt, and unlocked the shackles before marching towards the goddess. “Don’t,” he hissed, “Ever do that again without warning me first. Hells, don’t even ever do that agai -- !” He lost the words in his throat as he froze before her and stared out over the edge of his ship. Will went silent, awe written on his face.

His ship was sailing slowly through an ocean of soft white clouds. They were most certainly not sailing the waters of Earth any longer, nor were they on land.

She turned to look at him then, and a small, almost amused smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. “You look like a drowned rat,” she said softly.

“This is hardly the time for comedy,” Will retorted. “Were you or were you not weeping all through last night?”

Celeste was the one to take pause then, and she let her hands drop to her lap. “I was,” she breathed. “I’m not safe any longer. But that’s not what concerns me. Neither is Jack. Neither are you.” She began to twirl a lock of her hair slowly. “Calypso had six of my pearls when she was human. Before I gave those seven to Jack, three had fallen from that strand into the ocean. She’s recovered those three as well. There’s only one left – Jack’s – until she has all ten.”

“So?” Will frowned.

The goddess let her fingers slip higher up her hair, to another strand twined beautifully within her black tresses. “Each of the twenty one remaining strands of pearls has ten pearls per strand. Each strand represents approximately four hundred and seventy six quintillion stars.” When she saw that ‘quintillion’ meant nothing to Will, she sighed. “One pearl represents four quintillion, seven hundred and sixty one quadrillion, nine hundred and four trillion, seven hundred and sixty one billion, nine hundred and four million, seven hundred and sixty one thousand, nine hundred and five stars.” Still he gave her a blank look, and she looked at him with frustration. “It’s a lot of zeroes,” she remarked. “In total, think about a one, followed by twenty one zeroes. That’s how many stars there are, give or take a couple. The number changes all the time because of stars exploding, falling and being created, but the wavering number tends to stick around that neighborhood.”

Will nodded dumbly, before coming back to his senses and frowning anew. “And you gave pearls of that caliber with sway over the stars… to Jack Sparrow. ~The~ Jack Sparrow. The Jack Sparrow I know. The Jack Sparrow I know that can’t even keep track of his own massive ship, never mind a few tiny pearls. The Jack Sparrow I know that…”

“I get the point,” Celeste interrupted.

“But!” Will blurted.

She looked at him frankly, and Will realized he was being insensitive again. “I was young in the ways of the heart and in love,” she explained. “It’s no excuse, but I only meant well by entrusting them with him. I’ve given pearls away before, to those that pleased me… but only one at a time and never from the twenty one strands… the pearls I gave all other men represented but one star, and I usually gave them the pearls so that those men could gift them to other women. But those are ancient, Old Sea Tales. I let Jack Sparrow have seven pearls, because the other three had fallen to the ocean floor and no man could ever retrieve them, so even if Jack did lose them, nobody would ever be able to assemble a full strand of ten.” Her frown darkened. “Never did I expect my sister – even if freed, which I also doubted was going to happen any time soon – would care about those pearls. Of course I figured she could have those three if she really wanted them if ever freed, but I didn’t think Jack would give her the others; I had no reason to think that!”

“What’s the significance of a strand of pearls, aside from how many stars they represent?” Will asked softly.

“They don’t just represent the stars,” Celeste admitted as she shifted her position on the bowsprit and looked over at Will face to face. “They are the stars.” Again he didn’t look as though he comprehended her words. “I am the stars. I am the sun, I am the moon. They are a part of me, the very same. When my tears fall, so do the stars… are you not understanding this? Calypso is the ocean and the seas, but with my stars in her hands, she can control a part of the sky. And she seeks her vengeance upon me, upon those that I love… and upon those that she wishes to turn her wrath onto. Like, say, perhaps…”

“…The new captain of the Flying Dutchman,” Will finished grimly. “But I would think she would instead go after the Pirate Lords who trapped her.”

Celeste arched her brows. “Really?” she mused. “If I was her, and Jack was David, I’d be going after the man that had stabbed Jack’s heart as one of the top on my list.”

“Right,” Will carped out, not liking what he was hearing. “But Jack...”

“…Is in about as much trouble as you are in that regard, but here he earns a rank higher on her black list than you, because it’ll be a strike at me to harm him as well. I’m number one on that list.”

“But what can she really do to you, you’re still a god,” Will pointed out. “She would need some way to manipulate you into submission, and the only thing that seems to be able to sway you any longer, is…” His gaze lifted to her once more. “Jack.” Will paled again as realization set in and the lead ball in his stomach grew heavier.

“Jack,” Celeste agreed breathlessly, pain written clearly on her face. “Jack Sparrow has the last pearl, my last hope… and I can’t find Jack. He is not under the eye of the skies, he’s underground or underwater… I think she’s captured him and hidden him. She’s had him since yesterday, having sent a tsunami to crash against his ship and cast him into the ocean. I can’t see him, I can’t find him; she must be holding him prisoner beneath the water and waiting.”

“Why hasn’t she hurt him yet?” Will probed urgently.

“She waits for me.” Celeste offered Will a small, weak smile when the man brushed a tear from her cheek. “In fourteen days, there will be a Blood Moon. I will be most vulnerable then. She knows I will come to his aide the instant she calls me out to meet him, she knows I will not be able to stand by this time as he is killed. Calypso will exact her revenge upon me, and then upon Jack… and then upon you. I’m surprised the stars have not begun to rain down upon the face of the Earth yet, I don’t understand how Jack has kept her from getting the last pearl from him.”

Will’s stomach churned. “And what do you want me to do about this?”

The woman’s face became grim as she looked at the captain of the Flying Dutchman squarely. “In fourteen days, on the Blood Moon, I want you to help kill me, William Turner,” she whispered.

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