Adrift

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Dear Readers: Hope you continue to find some small entertainment in my fanciful tale. R.F. - thank you, your input made me 'look' a lot harder at my own work!

With no further ado, here is the latest installment in the Barbossabeth saga that is...Adrift. Please, rate or review, it really does mean a lot!

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It was the change in the sound of the waves against the hull of the Corazón that finally woke Elizabeth, the movement of the water telling her that they had hoisted anchor. Through sleep-swollen eyes she could see that the sun had not yet arisen on the day; the stateroom was still filled with muted navy shadows and the sky through the portholes showed a velvety indigo blue. Nestling deeper within the warm, thick blankets on the captain’s bed, she turned to wrap her arms around Hector but was disappointed to find only rumpled sheets to mark where he had lain beside her through the night.

As the fog cleared from her brain, she understood that if they were on their way in pursuit of Beckett, Hector was likely overseeing the efforts of his crew as they prepared to make sail. In her utter exhaustion, she’d not even noticed his departure. If she had heard him getting up, she thought with a wicked smile, he wouldn’t have made it as far as the door before she’d have had her way with him. The intimacy between them, as intense as it had been before, felt new and more arousing than she could have predicted. Where the possibility of what they might find together had made their coupling a powerful experience at one point, the reality of knowing that they now truly belonged to one another made her yearn for him with such hunger that she felt an empty ache inside.

As she tossed back the covers and stretched, the muscles in her arms and legs cried out in protest and she whimpered in a brief indulgence of self-pity. Some of the dull pain was no doubt due to the trek through the everglades, but the acrobatics in the shower were definitely to blame for the pull she could feel on the inside of her thighs. The memory of it made her flush – all over, as she could easily see. Hector must have divested her of her clothes before he’d crawled in beside her the night before, ‘though for the life of her she had no memory of it at all. Maybe he’d wanted to be sure she’d be comfortable...or more likely, he’d wanted to savour the feel of her naked skin on his, every bit as much as she would have enjoyed his doing so.

She hugged her arms around herself but her own embrace was a poor substitute for Hector’s. Without him there to offer physical satisfaction, staying in bed was pointless and more than a little frustrating. Rather than lament his absence, Elizabeth decided it would be better to get out on deck as well and offer to lend a hand. Considering the danger that the crew had had to face on her behalf over the preceding two weeks, it seemed the least she could do.

Her choices of wardrobe for the day were limited; most of what she’d brought back from the Morgan LeFay during her last visit to the vessel remained crumpled up under the covers of the bed back at the safe house. The clothes she’d been wearing the day prior were beyond salvation, so that left her with a solitary pair of cut-off shorts and some fluorescent green flip-flops. She scrounged through Hector’s dresser and found a ridiculously large t-shirt to complete her ensemble but drew the line at appropriating his underwear, opting to go ‘commando’ instead, as the men she employed at Swann Song would have said. Just as she was about to head out the door, Elizabeth grabbed the Blackheart cut and pulled it on; at least it would offer a bit of a windbreak in case the morning was a cool one.

She emerged from the stairwell into a gradually brightening day as starlight faded in the cerulean heavens, reluctantly giving way to the burgeoning glory of the sun. The breeze, already warm despite the newness of the dawn, played over her face, and the briny mist off of the ocean kissed her bare arms and legs as she scanned the deck for Hector.

When Elizabeth did spot him, the pangs of longing she had suffered moments earlier in his stateroom paled in comparison to the rushing tide of need that the sight of him brought forth. Her mouth actually gaped open as she watched him hoisting the mainsail single-handedly, the hard muscles of his arms and smooth, naked chest flexing as he pulled steadily hand over hand at the halyard line. His teeth were clenched and in the faint daylight, she watched the glistening drops of sweat slide over his tanned skin as the heavy sailcloth climbed higher and higher up the mast. Other men were attending to their tasks, but they all seemed to fade into the background as he worked, each of his movements efficient and fluid from years – no, centuries – of practice. Time slowed as she stared and she swallowed hard enough that she heard a click in her throat. God, but he was magnificent, so much so that her fingers tingled with the overwhelming need to touch him.

The few clothes she wore suddenly felt hot and constrictive, and she eased off her leather vest as he finally wrapped the line around a winch and used the leverage to take the sail the last few feet up. He noticed her and winked as he put the brake on the halyard and coiled the rope so it was safely out of the way. Picking up a bottle of water, he took a deep swig and then splashed half of it over his head, rubbing errant drops over his face as he sauntered slowly towards her.

“I don’t remember seeing you do anything like that on the Pearl,” she said, her voice gravelly and her throat parched. She gave a dry little cough and tried to sound more nonchalant than she felt.

Hector’s eyes flashed and he took another quick drink as he regarded her mischievously. “Most of me crew is still a-bed and every hand on deck shares in the duties, captain included, when ‘tis necessary.”

“Is that right...?” she murmured, distracted by the primal drumming of her heart. She watched with fascination as a single drop of water fell from his chin and meandered down over a broad pectoral. Had they been alone, Elizabeth would have leaned in closer and licked at the rivulet, but the background chatter of the Blackhearts on deck compelled her to check her impulse. Instead, she settled for sliding her tongue along her bottom lip and wiping the tempting trickle away with the tips of her fingers.

He stepped in closer and pressed her hand against the damp sheen on his chest. “See somethin’ ye like, missy?” he teased.

“Hmmm?” Elizabeth knew he had spoken but was not really paying attention. She pulled her hand from beneath his and began to map a course across the expanse of his upper body, the muscles contracting beneath his skin as her fingers wandered what had become, for her, a much-loved path. Here and there she followed the ridge of a whitened scar with the edge of her fingernail and only barely noticed that his breathing had become heavier as she went. The Blackheart cut dropped from her clutch, quickly forgotten as she lost herself in her journey of tactile exploration.

Whether Hector was continuing to perspire as a result of the heat, his efforts with the sail or due to something else entirely, Elizabeth wasn’t sure, but she watched more droplets slide down over the smooth skin of his torso and disappear beneath the waistband of his rather-tight jeans. She followed the silvery beads of water down his abdomen with her hands, insinuating her fingers over the edge of his belt and pulling him closer. Closing her eyes, she leaned closer and breathed deeply, smiling contentedly at the bracing scent of her man and the burning heat of his skin. If she loosened his buckle, she thought she might be able ease her hand down just a little further...

“’Lizabeth...unless yer wantin’ me to swive ye here in front of me men, ye’d best temper yer affections fer the time bein’,” Hector cautioned in a low, raspy voice.

She blinked a couple of times and shook her head, coming out of her daze to look up and see both arousal and amusement on his face. Her cheeks went warm with a blush of embarrassment, and flushed twice as red when she saw that the crew had halted their work altogether and were watching the two of them as though observing some unusual spectacle. “Oh my God...I’m so sorry,” she stammered, stepping clear of him. “When I touched you, I just got caught up...you looked so...if you hadn’t said something...good lord!”

Hector gave her a sinful grin as he scooped up the cut from where she’d dropped it, taking her arm as he guided her over towards the doorway. Applause and wolf whistles followed them as he led her back to the deckhouse steps.

“Quiet, ye cack-faced bilge rats!” Hector hollered at them brusquely. “Ye’d think ye’d never laid eyes on a woman, the way yer actin’!”

“Is that what yer gonna be doin’, Cap’n?” called out one of the men. “Layin’ yer eyes on ‘er?” His question prompted a burst of uproarious laughter from his mates. “I think she might be interested in more than yer baby blue peepers, sir!” More laughter ensued and Elizabeth thought it entirely possible that she would die from the humiliation to which she’d subjected them both.

“I’m sorry, Hector,” she repeated as they got to the bottom of the stairs and he kicked the door closed behind them. “There’s no excuse for my behaviour. And to put you in that kind of position with the men looking on...”

He flung her vest aside and seized her, taking her in his arms and kissing her fiercely. His lips moved over hers in a way that demanded complete submission, his mouth hot as he pushed his tongue between her lips and ruthlessly sought the soft flesh within. She threw her arms around his neck, roughly tugging away the band that bound his ponytail so she could anchor her hands in his long, sweat-dampened hair as their kiss grew more heated. They stumbled and fell against the hard side of the chart table, the impact causing them to draw apart momentarily and gasp for air.

“To have ye look upon me as ye were...to have ye touch me in such a way...,” Hector growled, grabbing her hips and lifting her up onto the tabletop to bring them face to face. He kissed her hard again and her swollen, bruised lips responded in kind as he pushed her knees apart, wedging himself between her thighs. His solid throbbing need was clearly felt all the way through both her shorts and his jeans.

Elizabeth hooked her calves behind his hips and drew him closer, rocking against him to find some small relief. “Your men...they...oh!” she whimpered as he pressed closer, hot and rigid. “Don’t they need you out on deck?”

He growled as though about devour her and she bunched his hair into her fists to keep him close, desperate to revel in the full flavour of his desire. Suddenly he pulled back and grabbed hold of the front of her t-shirt, ripping at the material until it came apart in his hands. “Ain’t their needs I be intent on satisfyin’ just now,” he snarled as he tore the remnants of the shirt from her body and threw them behind him.

Her nipples hardened painfully and a tremor swept through her body, her senses heightened with the adrenalin rush that came from the sheer savagery of the action and the promise of his words. This was no moment of soft romance or flowery declarations; it was sex and lust, pure and simple.

With one hand she tugged mercilessly on his hair, bringing his hungry lips back to hers for another taste. The other hand she slid down his bare midriff and found his belt, intending to wrestle his buckle open. He gasped harshly as she bumped against the stone-hard swelling that strained the stitching on the front of his jeans. Elizabeth nearly screamed in frustration when the stubborn clasp on his belt caught, but when it finally gave way, she wrenched with all her strength on both the belt and the waistband of his pants. The brass buttons from Hector’s fly snapped off in her haste, pinging metallically against the edge of the table before dropping to the floor and rolling away.

Hector’s breath shuddered hot against her face as she slipped her hand between the soft cotton of his underwear and his skin, curling her fingers around the rigid column of flesh and causing him to lunge against her hold. She freed him from his constraining clothing and stroked the glorious length of him, feeling the quiver of his arousal against her palm. Trailing kisses along his jaw to his neck, she licked at the tender spot where his pulse hammered and sampled the slightly salty tang of his sweat. He turned his head to the side and moaned, clearly enjoying the sensation of her tongue running over his skin. She smiled to herself as she sucked hard, knowing that he would carry the brand of her love bite for a few days to come. He was hers and she would mark him as such if she so chose.

Too quickly for her to understand what he was doing or to attempt to stop him, he grabbed hold of her wrists and squeezed, causing her to release her grip on both his hair and his cock. Elizabeth gave him a startled look as he yanked her off the end of the table. The man she saw was every bit the terrifying Captain Barbossa of her memory – eyes wide, lips curled back in a scowl and nostrils flared. Her heart jumped to see him so impassioned and even if she had been of a mind to speak, the awe she felt left her incapable of it.

He whirled her around and pushed her face-down on the chart table. The edge hit her sternum and knocked the wind out of her. Before she could catch her breath again, she felt his hands grab the waistband of her cut-offs and jerk hard. Unable to protest the destruction of her last piece of clothing, she could do nothing but surrender to his will as the seams of the worn denim gave way and she was indecently spread before him.

Her thighs shook in expectation and wetness trickled from between her legs as he shifted behind her. Pinned in place by a large, strong hand on the small of her back, Elizabeth had barely regained breath enough to cry out when he thrust sharply into her, stretching her channel wide with the force of his entry. As a spasm of blinding-white ecstasy shot through her every nerve, the only movement she could make was to claw the slick surface of the table with her fingernails.

Sunk up to his balls inside of her, Hector stroked the swell of her buttocks and spread her legs further apart with his knees. She whimpered and tried to push back against him, but she was completely at his mercy. He chuckled salaciously at her vain efforts and began to withdraw slowly only to slam into her again, the broad head of his cock delving through her tender depths. She opened her mouth to scream but the sound caught in her throat as another wave of bliss surged through her.

All coherent thought was chased from her mind as he pounded into her over and over, each stroke finding unimaginably sensitive spots of sweet pleasure. The noises she was making were echoing back at her, short grunts of animalistic rapture she was helpless to suppress. She tucked her arms beneath her, bracing against the force of his relentless, albeit welcome, incursion. The serpent necklace she still wore– the only thing she still wore – thudded rhythmically against the table as he rode her hard and fast. She grabbed the pendant, clutching it firmly between her shaky hands like a lifeline as she was engulfed by a sudden, heart-stopping climax.

Her limbs stiffened and she shrieked, writhing beneath Hector as her pussy clenched tightly around his pulsing member. He was trapped snugly within her for a moment and as his tempo faltered, a string of hoarsely muttered epithets spilled from his lips. For reasons beyond her understanding, hearing him curse with such vulgarity prolonged her orgasm, and she was seized in the renewed grip of contractions so powerful that tears welled in her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks.

The magnitude of Elizabeth’s reaction was too much for her lover; with a roar, he grasped hold of her hips with both hands and plunged himself inside her as far as he could. His thighs trembled against the backs of her legs as he came, and she could feel every twitching inch of him, every spurt of his seed as it broke against her womb.

His lust finally spent, Hector slumped over her and planted a kiss between her shoulder blades. The additional weight made her arms cramp beneath her and she gradually relaxed her grip on the bejewelled snake so she could stretch her hands above her head. Through one half-open eye, she saw that she’d been holding the pendant so tightly that a mottled image of the reptile was embedded on her palm. She smiled to herself and thought that Hector, however inadvertently, had left his mark on her as well.

He slowly slid his hands along the length of her arms, finding her fingers and entwining them within his. Little aftershocks of passion still sparked through her exhausted body as she basked in the warmth of their contentment. “I think it’s a poor captain who can’t keep his clothes on long enough to issue proper orders,” she whispered, and her grin widened when she felt the rumble of his answering laugh.

“Ye offer too temptin’ a distraction, girl,” he said, his beard tickling her shoulder. “Ye’ve got me thinkin’, though, that perhaps it be time to pass the job o’er to another. Long enough have I served as captain to this unwashed group of misfits. Let ’em chose a new leader and relieve me of the burden.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and huffed. “You thrive under the heaviness of that so-called burden. You were to the manner born, as the saying goes. You love being captain...”

“Aye, always have I enjoyed takin’ the helm and leadin’ the charge,” he replied wistfully. “And when we ruled the seas as pirates, t’was as invigoratin’ a life as one could ask. But to a man, we’ve grown complacent as well-fed cats. No chance of dyin’, no need of wealth, no unexplored worlds to make our own...I’ve nowhere left to take ‘em.”

The sadness of the words shocked her and she tried to twist around to look at him. It wasn’t until he’d eased himself up off of her that she could turn and see from his expression that he was serious.

“Where is this coming from? I’ve never heard you even hint at being dissatisfied with your situation...not back so long ago and certainly not in recent memory. Is this truly how you feel or...” Her eyes widened in dismayed realization. “This is because of what I said about riding away with you, isn’t it? Hector – that was only a fantasy. Just talk!”

He shook his head and hoisted up his drawers, the belt hasp jangling as he tucked himself into his briefs and fastened his pants as best he could without benefit of buttons. “Well I know it, ‘Lizabeth. But that don’t change me feelins’ on the matter.” He stepped closer and took her by her upper arms, ducking his head slightly so as to catch her eye. “I’m but a shadow of me former self. What the remnants of the Pearl’s crew have now ‘tis not a life but merely an existence. Or so it seemed to me until I found ye again.”

Her throat tightened and she swallowed back the threat of a sob as she clutched at his arms. “I’ll never forgive myself if you lose something dear to you because of me.”

Hector’s brow darkened. “Am I not speakin’ clearly enough fer ye? O’er three hundred years have the Blackhearts subsisted on naught but the memory of what we once were. And don’t get me wrong – glad we were to be around at all and cheatin’ the devil out of all them souls as he was owed. But ‘tis not enough now, not fer me.”

“Then what do you want?” Elizabeth asked, the lump lodged in her throat making her hoarse. It had never occurred to her that the gift of immortality might seem like a curse as time marched on and all that made life worth living slipped away into the mists of distant memory. Her heart broke for the loneliness and isolation that must have plagued Hector and the crew for decades.

“I want to break the shackles that bind me to Wisteria,” he said, hope gleaming in his clear blue eyes. “Take me cut of the treasure and let the men decide fer themselves what ‘tis they want. They can choose to vote in a new captain, go their separate ways...to each his own, says I. Then you ‘n me...our lives will be our own, lass! We can sail or make port as we see fit. Can even take the bike along with us and set to discoverin’ a world of our own makin’, by land or by water.”

“I...I don’t know what to say...” she stuttered. He couldn’t have taken her more by surprise with his decision but as she thought about it, the idea of having him all to herself and living whatever life they chose certainly appealed.

Hector seemed to take her hesitant reply as reluctance. Clearly intending to offer some sweet persuasion, he wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed her in a slow and thorough way. “Always will I be yer captain, ‘Lizabeth,” he murmured, his words falling soft and warm on her lips.

Elizabeth spread her hands over his back. “Don’t you forget it, either,” she said before she kissed him in return, her heartbeats quickening in anticipation of the path they had chosen. “Wherever you go, I’ll be with you.”


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Nothing had really changed; without a clue as to Cutler Beckett’s whereabouts, the prospect of danger hung like a sword over their heads and the future was as uncertain as ever. But there was hope in Elizabeth’s heart that belied the troubles they had yet to face...hope that the torments being visited upon them would end soon.

Standing at the bow, she swayed in time to the ship’s lazy waltz as the Corazón Perdido made its way back to Wisteria. The hot wind caught and ruffled the material of both the tank top and the pyjama pants that she’d been forced to nick from Hector’s stash of clean laundry. What she wouldn’t give for five minutes in front of her own closet and access to at least one item of clothing intended for a woman.

For a brief time Hector had playfully tried to convince her to don her burgundy gown of old, but Elizabeth had put him off with a kiss and a promise to wear the dress when next they found themselves with a private moment. Besides, she’d decided in her own mind that she'd entertained the crew enough for the day. No need to invite more lewd commentary by reprising her role as the governor’s virginal daughter.

She smiled to herself. Privacy hadn’t exactly been top of mind when they’d gone at it like hormone-addled teenagers in the deck house. Anyone could have walked in and caught them in flagrante delicto, as it were. Yet the two of them carried on despite that fact...or was it because of it? Whatever the reason, it had been unspeakably exciting. And just thinking about it made her want him all over again.

It wasn’t the time, though, and she mentally chastised herself for allowing her libido to continue dictating the direction of her thoughts. She needed to keep her head clear and her eyes open, and that pretty much precluded further lurid fantasies.

The low rumble of her captain’s voice caught Elizabeth’s ear, and she turned to see that he’d gathered his men close to talk strategy. They were hunched over a chart, discussing their plan for bringing down Cutler Beckett.

As she watched Hector with his crew, she could understand what had compelled the men of the Black Pearl to keep Barbossa as their commander for so long. Everything about him made it perfectly clear that he was the man in charge. The way he held himself when addressing the crew, the uncompromising tenor of his orders and even the underlying hint of menace that he projected...all of it inspired confidence. And although she had seen for herself that his orders occasionally seemed senseless or even insane, time had taught her that there was usually a brilliant method to his madness.

What the hell were the men going to do without him? Elizabeth turned away, suddenly feeling sad and more than a little guilty. Would they be lost or would they see Hector’s departure as a chance for long overdue freedom? Was there a place for any of the Blackhearts in the modern world? Their home on Wisteria was a haven of sorts; perhaps they would remain there indefinitely. And maybe Hector would eventually return to them when...well, when she died.

She had worked hard to convince herself that the two of them needed to live for the day. Hadn’t she told Hector that there were no guarantees? But even if there was nothing but smooth sailing ahead and their life together the very icon of perfection, he would ultimately be the one to pay the price for loving her…for loving someone who was merely mortal. It didn’t change Elizabeth’s feelings for him and she knew with certainty that it wouldn’t sway him in his affections either, but the fact remained that it was the fate that awaited them.

As she pondered their destiny, the wind tossed her hair across her eyes and she pushed it back, lifting her face into the sunshine. Their time was short and they had a choice to make – they could spend those days moping about the inevitable parting, or they could savour the adventure and make the most of the extraordinary chance they’d been given. Elizabeth looked back over her shoulder at her beloved pirate and her heart squeezed tightly. It really was no choice at all; she’d just have to make sure she loved him deeply enough that the memory of it would sustain him forever.

Their course began to shift slightly southwest and Elizabeth knew that they were only a couple of dozen miles from their destination. At least the island could offer relative safety; apart from Jack’s sneaky infiltration, no one else had dared try to breach their security. Half of the Blackheart fleet would launch and patrol the search grid that their captain had laid out for them in the hopes of catching Beckett on approach; the other ships would anchor in a ring just off shore of Wisteria and act as a last line of defence should someone manage to evade detection and slip past the patrols.

As much as she would have liked to imagine Beckett slinking away and giving up on his obsessive quest, both she and Hector agreed that the despicable little cur would dog their steps relentlessly until he had what he wanted. Elizabeth wasn't sure she believed that the mirror held the power that they all believed, but it was enough that Beckett believed it to be so. In any case, their only advantage came in the fact that they could lay in wait for him. So long as they remained vigilant, Beckett would eventually present them with a target that would be impossible to miss.

She turned to stare back out over the prow again and frowned. There was a strange, greyish mist swirling above the water ahead of them. As the Corazón bore down upon it, she realized that it wasn’t mist at all but smoke that carried with it the distressing smell of burning wood and plastic...and it was coming from the direction of Wisteria.

“Hector! Look!” Elizabeth yelled and his head snapped up, his eyes widening in alarm. He abandoned the group and ran to join her where she stood with her heart thudding and her stomach twisting. Grabbing the forestay, Hector leaned out to get a clearer view before he dashed back towards the helm and took the wheel. Elizabeth hurried after him, wanting to be close at hand if he needed her.

“Mister Rackham! Use the com and see if ye can’t raise a response from the sentries we left back at the island! Mister Morris, see that the armaments are brought aboveboard and made ready!” He turned his gaze on Elizabeth and there was the briefest flare of uncertainty in his eyes before he assigned her orders, too. “Miss Swann, I’ll be needin’ ye to get down to the engine room and ensure that all is in good order with the Cummins before I start her up. We haven’t the luxury of trustin’ that the wind alone will get us home fast enough.”

“Aye, sir,” she answered, not giving a second thought about their reversion to formality; she had sailed long enough that the response was automatic. Elizabeth dashed as fast as she could through the orderly panic and slipped down the back stairs to the engine room. She flipped the cover off of the engine, wrinkling her nose at the strong smell of diesel. Quickly she checked the oil level and the battery charge; both were good. She loosened the bleeder screw slightly to test for air in the lines, but it was clear at a glance that Hector kept everything aboard his ship in perfect shape. It was standard procedure to check first, though – preparation always took less time than repair. After replacing the cover, she vaulted back up the stairs and slid to a stop beside her captain.

“We’re good to go,” she informed him, and he nodded curtly to her as he pushed the ignition. As the low rumble of engine grew, the crewmen scrambled to adjust the sails so that they wouldn’t cause drag as speed increased. A handful of men huddled around Morris, loading shells into vicious-looking guns and weapons that looked suspiciously like grenade launchers. They’d come prepared to take on the full force of the Navy; Elizabeth only hoped that Beckett didn’t have such resources at his disposal.

The smoke was growing darker, and the thick toxic cloud caused her eyes to water and her lungs to spasm in protest. Hector pulled the bandanna from his head and pushed it into her hands, and she nodded at him gratefully as she covered her nose and mouth with the thin piece of cloth.

“Cap’n,” coughed Rackham, charging up to the helm to give his report. “I tried to hail them as was left back on the island. There’s no answer.”

Hector’s lips thinned in anger and his eyes sparked. “Leave off fer now, Mister Rackham, and prepare the for’ard guns. Keep a careful watch fer the enemy and be ready to open fire on command.”

“Aye aye, Cap’n,” Rackham hollered back over his shoulder, already on his way to carry out the orders. Despite the desperate situation, Elizabeth couldn’t help but be impressed by the synchronicity that the crew demonstrated in going about their duties. It was what came of working together for so long, she understood, but it still spoke to the competence of their captain and their abilities as sailors. For a second or two, her heart was buoyed by her pride. They were a fine crew, pirates or not, and she counted herself lucky to be among them.

The wind blew a little harder and as the men in the riggings called out to one another, the haze before them cleared and Wisteria came into view. In that instant, Elizabeth almost wished that the smoke had stayed in place to offer a barrier against the gut-wrenching sight that greeted them.

At least three of the ships berthed were fully engulfed in sinuous, black-edged flame. The docks closest to the burning boats were also beginning to smolder, hampering the efforts of the few men trying to extinguish the blazes with buckets of water drawn from the Gulf. As she watched, one of the trawlers exploded as the fire reached its fuel tank and pieces of wreckage flew through the air, sending the men scrambling for cover and causing her to instinctively throw up her arm in front of her face. As far away as the blast was, it was still powerful enough that Elizabeth felt a burst of hot air as it rushed over the bow seconds later.

After the heat dissipated, she lowered her arm and watched helplessly as the inferno grew, licking at the ships with greedy orange tongues and hungrily swallowing more of the dock. The column of smoke rose to an amazing height, a great billowing cloud of soot and ash that seemed to roil and writhe like some newly awoken demon. It was more than smoke in her eyes, though, that caused tears to flow unchecked – it was the look of utter despondency on the faces of the crew. Stunned into silence, they watched their homes – the precious refuge they’d built – being consumed by an unquenchable firestorm. Their loss left her with a terrible, hollow ache in her chest.

“I don’t understand. What did he hope to accomplish?” she gasped, stepping closer to Hector and laying a hand over his forearm. His knuckles were white where he grasped the wheel and his mouth was pressed into a tense, furious line. His eyes had gone cold, though, and there was a stillness in him that warned of impending violence.

Hector’s jaw worked and he swallowed hard, trying to muster up enough control to answer. “Revenge, perhaps...or an attempt to keep us from launchin’ a proper search.”

“Maybe it’s a sort of distraction,” said Ragetti. When the crew turned towards him, he shrugged and looked nervous. He backed up a step or two but didn’t get far before his captain grabbed a fistful of the slight man’s shirt.

“Explain yerself!” Hector barked.

“I’m just sayin’...maybe he set our things on fire so’s our attention would be on the dock and we wouldn’t notice goings-on anywhere else on Wisteria. Could be he figured out that this would be the one place we’d bring the mirror fer safe keepin’ an’ he wanted to be sure he could take ‘is time an’ look fer it when we wasn’t lookin’ fer him...” Ragetti rambled quickly, twisting slightly so he could work his way out of Hector’s clutch.

“Blimey, but yer stupid!” spat Pintel. “He wouldn’t dare!” Reaching out to cuff the younger man upside his ear, the bald man’s eyes flew open in shock when Hector snatched hold of his wrist before the blow could fall and shoved the offending hand roughly away.

“Unless ye have a better theory, Mister Pintel, ye’d best be keepin’ yer hands to yerself,” Hector snarled as he turned his attention back to the pirates' fire-ravaged settlement. “On me island, ye say? And walkin’ about as if he owned the place, I suppose?”

“Just walkin’ about,” Ragetti said under his breath, surreptitiously shooting a victorious glare at Pintel, who huffed and looked heavenward in exasperation.

“Huh,” said Elizabeth thoughtfully, surprised once again at Ragetti’s acuity. He always did have a way of seeing to the heart of things in the midst of total confusion, so perhaps they shouldn’t have been as shocked as they were when he repeated the feat. It made perfect sense, though, and she could see that the captain believed that the skinny pirate was spot on.

Hector stood straight at the helm, his shoulders set back and a steely expression on his face. “We’ll allow him to think he’s pulled the wool o’er our eyes, then. Let him stumble about fer an hour or two; ‘tis all the time I need to set the trap and smoke the weasel out.”

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Da da DUM!!!! Oh, whatever will happen??? More to come soon!