Apprentice To The Sorcerer

“Just what are we doin’ back on this bump?” Pintel asked the rear of the boat. Jack sat far enough away up front that he felt he could get away with such talk. I knew better. Jack had ears like an owl.

“No one has said,” I replied. “I think it’s beautiful here.”

“Aye,” Gibbs chimed in. “Used to be a mission here. Bunch o’ French pirates killed ‘em out. I remember bein’ here a score o years back, when people lived here. They had almost everythin’ they needed. Fresh water, some wild game, plenty of rock to build with. And no natives.”

“Make a good home spot for pirates,” Pintel commented. “Why didn’t the Frenchys stay?”

“Davy Jones,” Ragetti murmured, crossing himself.

“Nah, that happened at another time,” Gibbs said, warming to the story. “Word is, Isla Cruz is protected by the same sort of magic what protects certain Aztec gold.”

“You mean we can only be here because we know it’s here?” Ragetti offered.

“Right.” Gibbs grinned. “And the Frenchy pirates couldn’t catch ships if the ships didn’t sail close enough to have a look at Isla Cruz. The water be shallow around most of the island. Only proper port to be had is on the edge of a large beach. Anyone approaching would be seen quick.”

“Couldn’t they just sail out and come back?” Ragetti scratched his head.

Gibbs cackled. “One person has to stay behind, don’t he? Or they won’t remember how to get back.”

“I don’t understand.” I made no bones about admitting this. Gibbs was talking in absolute circles. “We got here with no one left behind.”

“Maybe the French are stupid,” Marty said.

“We left dead people here.” Gibbs crossed himself. “The people that were here before got dumped in the sea. We know the island is here because we have mates buried here, or rather, because Jack does and he led us.”

Supposing that made a little more sense, it still didn’t explain why we were here. But Gibbs had done his work. The men mulled over his tale instead of questioning the captain. I smiled to myself. Jack had reasons for making Gibbs his second in command, and they weren’t all sentimental.

We made land.

“Walk around lads,” Jack said, looking at his compass. “Take in the scenery. We need to be back on ship in…eight hours.”

Having probably never been told to just wander, most everyone stared at Jack uncertainly. He hesitated. Raising his hands, he made shooing motions. “Hunt, fish, make sand castles,” he muttered. “No fights. I hear of a fight and it’s a flogging.” He turned to me. “Lei, with me.”

I risked throwing Mokulu a despairing look. My brother frowned and wagged his head at me.

We walked up the beach and into the palms. Jack kept looking at his compass and changing direction. I felt entirely used to this now, and expected it, in fact.

“Never thought you’d be back on this island, did you dearie?” Jack smirked at me. “Tell me, you like it here?”

“It’s pretty,” I admitted. “It feels calm.”

“Ah, but why?” Jack started walking toward a large mound in the distance. “Why does it feel calm?”

“I don’t know.” I felt for my pipes and stroked them absently. I had to hurry to catch up to him. “Maybe the lack of people?”

“No, that’s not it.” Jack made a swift turn.

“Then what?”

“It’s my island,” Jack answered. “This way.”

“Your island?” I ran to get parallel with him again. My mind went back to the first night we’d had dinner with Blood. Jack had said he was the only pirate who didn’t dream of owning an island. Apparently this was because he already had one.

“My island,” Jack repeated. “Never thought I’d be on it, thinking the thoughts I am.”

“What are you thinking?” I leaned in toward him. Jack stopped so swiftly I ran into his shoulder. His compass went crazy the moment I touched him, spinning wildly before settling on me. I blushed.

“I wasn’t thinking that until you made me,” Jack defended.

“You make as much sense as your compass,” I complained.

“Add ‘respectfully’ onto that or I’ll flog you with something you’ll wish was a cat o nine,” Jack murmured.

I swallowed. “Respectfully, sir,” I said carefully, “I don’t understand.” He couldn’t be inferring he’d flog me with his…

Jack snapped his compass shut. His eyes focused on me fully, widening and darkening. “Fuck this,” he muttered. “You take orders entirely too well these days.”

I wasn’t prepared for how swiftly Jack could move, not even now. He caught me completely by surprise, backing me up against a palm tree. He hugged the rough bark with his hands, not touching me but effectively keeping me in one place. “Lizzie,” he breathed against my jaw line. “You make me throw plans to the wind, girlie.”

“Jack,” I began, “What-.”

“You will come to me,” he murmured. “I’d bet the Pearl on it.”

His cocky claim made me see red. I shoved him away from me. “You arrogant, self-centered…” I stopped, too mad for suitable words.

“It’s too late for that,” Jack replied, coming right back. “I’ve got you in my glass.”

“You don’t know how I feel,” I spat, turning my face away from him.

“Then tell me.” Jack’s lips stopped mere inches from mine. “Or do you not know either?”

I opened my mouth but I couldn’t say anything. I did feel confused. I did have problems trying to decide how I felt.

“You don’t know?” he repeated.

“Maybe not,” I relented.

“If you wanted someone safe, someone trustworthy, you’d have stayed with Will,” Jack said, infuriatingly logical.

“You are trustworthy, after a fashion,” I argued, trying to not think about the heat and musk coming from his not-quite-touching-me body. “And it’s just like you to think you’ve won some kind of contest over Will. Did you ever stop to think I might have had more to my decisions than who gets between my legs?”

“Tell me you aren’t wet there, right now, and I’ll relent,” Jack answered. “I want to see you lie, go ahead. Just try,” Jack coaxed, sighing softly. “Try to lie to me when the scent of you is hot in my nostrils. Try to lie to me when your every step is slick at your thighs.”

“You conceited con man,” I said, speaking almost directly against his lips. “How would you know unless you checked? And I’m not letting you check.” I took in the air like a racehorse now, panting and heaving at the chest with my neck strained high. Another burst of wetness escaped me. Jack’s close proximity did this to me, made me crazy with a want I only barely understood.

“You remember our other island?” Jack went on. “You remember it better than I do, I’m sure, because I was tanked to the gills. If I had seen you, smelled you like this, you wouldn’t have made your sacrilegious little bonfire.”

“You couldn’t resist getting drunk,” I argued. “It wouldn’t have mattered if I’d been in heat.”

“Less about me getting drunk and more about you betting I was a good man,” Jack countered. “I don’t force sex. You knew that, with your woman’s wisdom. So I fell for it. My bottle rose quicker than my cock.” He moved in just a little bit more. Only by rigidly staying still did I avoid full contact with his body.

“You do realize there’s no rum cache on this island, don’t you?” Jack asked.

“I realize I must have been right about you,” I panted, “or we wouldn’t be talking, would we?”

“Absolutely, Lizzie my dear,” Jack agreed. “Because as uncomfortable as you are right now, you’d be even less comfortable on your back, in the sand, with your legs around my shoulders.”

“You are despicable,” I uttered.

“And you are delectable,” he countered.

“So where does that leave us?”

“Where indeed?” Jack backed away. “I’m too much of a good man to persuade you in an unfriendly manner. You’re too much of good girl to persuade me, period.”

“There is no middle ground, so don’t go in that direction,” I said, sagging with relief now that he wasn’t inches from me.

“There’s always plenty of middle ground,” Jack argued, straightening his hat. “Eventually one of us will tire of being good. I think I have the least endurance.” He consulted his compass again offhandedly, as if he hadn’t been on the verge of ravishing me not fifteen seconds prior. “Should that prove true, you should be aware I have the tendency to get very physical.”

“Oh! Oh!” I drew up, my arms going tight with fury. “So, it’s ‘give in now, Lizzie or I’ll get violent’?” I marched over to him, thrusting my face up into his. I wanted to strangle him. “You’re giving me an ultimatum?”

Jack looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. Eyes wide with surprise, he lifted his brows until they were lost in his scarf. But taken by surprise as he was, it didn’t stop his eyes from wandering me with pleasure. He liked it when I lost my temper. I had forgotten that.

“I be thinkin’ more along the lines of physical pleasure, but if you want to wrestle with me, Lizzie, I’ll be more than happy to comply,” he murmured, taking a step closer to me. I hastily backed away, lest he trap me again.

“I need a rest,” I said quickly.

“Allow me to misunderstand,” Jack said, looking disappointed. “Our destination is only an hour’s walk from here.”

“Fine.”

Again Jack took the lead. At a clear brook we stopped for a drink. Ah, fresh water after so long at sea. I reveled in it. The cold purity washed through my insides and refreshed my spirit. I enjoyed it the more for watching Jack enjoy it. He bent down and drank like an animal, wiry muscles bulging under his increasingly wet shirt. I thought he’d finished when he stood up, but he dipped his hat full of water and dumped it over himself. “Hu-oah,” he gasped, shivering violently. I could see his masculine nipples peak under the broadcloth.

He seemed a beast. I wondered how a body so refined of features, so oddly graceful, could house such a base creature as Jack Sparrow. He’d fooled me into thinking there was more to him all these months. All those lessons in spirituality were merely to take me off guard.

“Ready?” he asked.

“If the Sparrow is done with his bird bath,” I said scornfully. “You need a lot more water than that hatful.”

“All in good time,” Jack assured me, smiling a bit.

Jack led me up the side of a fairly large hill. I found myself enjoying the scenery, the smell of fresh loam and growing things. Part of being a pirate is learning to appreciate little things. Civilized people take a hot meal and a beautiful view as a matter of course, but pirates steal moments of splendor from such things. We don’t know if our next meal will be hot; we assume it won’t be. We don’t even know if we’ll ever see land or drink fresh water again before we die.

A blast of cold air coasted down my sweaty skin. We stood at the mouth of a cave. The entrance didn’t seem very big. A sense of panic swept over me. I hated being enclosed, especially in caves. It had been hard enough to control myself while collecting the bones and treasure of Thomas Veal. Now Jack expected me to enter a cave with him, alone, fully aware of my identity and in the concealing dark. I took an involuntary step back.

Jack moved a few rocks out of the way and crouched over, darting inside without so much as a by-your-leave. I quivered with indecision. He did seem all business now, so perhaps I indulged foolishness to stand out here. Still, I didn’t trust him.

“Come on Lizzie, it’s safe,” Jack shouted.

Ah, he hadn’t waited for me because he’d wanted to make sure it was safe inside first.

I followed him in.

We stood in a vast chamber, stockpiled with numerous gigantic mounds covered with oilcloths. The air didn’t seem at all damp, like it should’ve been. I shivered at the change in temperature however. “What is this?” I asked.

“A man’s dream of home,” Jack answered. “My father put all this here.”

“What is ‘all this’?” I picked up the edge of a cloth and peeked underneath. An ordinary looking building board met my eyes. “Boards?”

“Boards, nails, hardware, the works,” Jack said. “He meant to build here.”

“Surely it’s all ruined by now?” I went to the next mound. Rocks.

“No, it isn’t damp in here,” Jack replied.

“How did he get it all through that little hole?”

“Persistence.” Jack grinned. “Persistence and time. Sparrows are all about persistence, especially concerning tight spots and little holes.”

“I believe it,” I muttered, choosing to ignore his double entendre. “So why are we here?”

“Making sure it’s all still here,” Jack replied. “I’m going to build.”

“What?” I couldn’t help staring at him.

“I’m going to build,” Jack repeated patiently. “Blood and his men will be here in a few days to help.”

“And what are you going to build?”

“A free port.” Jack put his hands behind his back, surveyed the room like a king in his vault. “A stronghold for rogues and brethren of the sea. Our ocean is shrinking, Lizzie. It won’t be long before the pickings are good but the getaway impossible.”

“So Jack Sparrow is going to become a landlubber?” I couldn’t fathom it.

“I’m still a captain on land, luv,” Jack reminded me, but absently. “No, I don’t expect to ever really give up the sea. The point is, we men on the account, excuse me, women too, need a place to call our own. We need a place to call a safe harbor.”

“And the treasure of Thomas Veal helps accomplish this,” I surmised. “But you gave everyone an equal share. If you’d kept it all you could have done more.”

“Lizzie,” Jack said softly. “Most of my men are getting old. I’m getting old. They’ll look at this the same way I do. What can be more attractive to a geriatric pirate than a fortress to hide behind?”

“You’re not old.” I looked away from him. “You’re what, forty?”

“Forty three,” he said. “I didn’t say I’m old, merely that I’m getting old.” He turned his kohl-lined eyes to me. “Piracy is about getting rich and staying alive as long as poss, you savvy? Only the idiots continue to sack towns and sink ships after they have enough loot to do something else.”

“So this is a retirement endeavor?” I looked around again. “Well, how big are you talking?”

“A town, a series of homes, a formidable defense,” Jack listed rapidly. “I invited Blood’s crew because they were new to piracy and me own crew because they were old to it, savvy? And then, as we build, we bring more people. We bring escaped slaves, religious refugees, war orphans, whomever we like. This will be our own little slice of society, ungoverned by kings.”

Jack moved to the left, motioning me to follow him. “I made a promise to you. You can think about what I’ve said while you reap the benefits of a promise-keeping captain.”

We passed five more chambers full of mounds and tarps. A narrow corridor brought us to a chamber too small to swing a sword in. In the middle of the floor sat a steaming hot spring. “Me da carved it out,” Jack said. “He never got to bring mother. No one has ever just sat in it or used it for what it’s meant for.”

“Oh God.” I stared at the steaming water. “This is my bath?”

“Yes.” Jack grinned. “Total privacy, as soon as I leave.” He handed me a small bag. “Take as long as you want. I’ll be taking a complete inventory of what da left here.” He pulled a badly broken candle out of his sash and thrust it in my empty hand. “Lucifers are in the bag,” he said, turning around.

I waited until I couldn’t hear his footsteps before getting those matches out. After I lit the candle and set it in between some rocks, I emptied out the bag. Jack had given me soap, a razor, and a sponge.

Feeling much friendlier to him, I set out my toiletries and stripped.

The temperature of the water felt absolutely perfect. I knew I could stay in it at least an hour. I washed my clothes, unhappy I would have to wear them wet but resigned to it. I thought it would be worth being damp for a little while to know I was actually clean all over.

As I sat in my bath I listened to the faraway sounds of Jack. I would hear the scrape of something being moved occasionally. He sang the bad egg song twice. He didn’t have a bad singing voice. I hadn’t been able to remember that, possibly because I’d been so caught up in my scheme of getting him drunk, but upon hearing him again I did recall the sound of his drunken laughter.

And I remembered what he said about freedom, about his ship. He loved the sea and he loved the Pearl.

So did I.

I didn’t have a chance in hell of finding any other kind of life.

A bit moody now, I soaped up my legs and shaved. I did my armpits with relief. They were the worst, the place I absolutely could not abide hair.

“If you don’t want me to see you, submerge,” Jack called out from the end of the rock corridor.

I kept low. Jack came in, setting down the lantern. “Enjoying?”

“Yes, thank you,” I murmured.

“Hmm.” Jack grunted. He began to strip.

“What are you doing?” I asked quickly.

“You told me I needed a bath, in not so many words,” Jack reminded me.

“I didn’t mean you needed my bath,” I corrected him.

“Are you going to start quibbling over details again?” Jack dropped his baldric. “It is so very tiresome, my dear.”

“Let me get out if you’re getting in,” I said.

“Do you see me standing at the entrance to the bath with a pike?” Jack wrestled off his shirt.

“This was a trap,” I said, outraged.

“You had plenty of opportunity to get out before I got here,” Jack said, taking off his boots. “I gave you an hour and a half. You’re probably wrinkled up by now.”

“There isn’t enough room in here for two of us!”

“Then you can sit on my lap,” Jack offered. “Might be a harder seat than the rock currently under your pretty arse though.”

I closed my eyes so I wouldn’t know. Jack plopped down next to me. Contrary to my claim, we had enough room. We weren’t even touching. “Give me your clothes and I’ll wash them,” I offered. If I had a job he might not bother me.

Jack lazily extended his arm. His slender fingers found the pile of clothes. They tumbled into the water with a sweep of his hand.

I soaped and wrung the clothes out for awhile, actually forgetting to be uncomfortable. The water flowed through the stone bowl we sat in fairly quickly, so rinsing wasn’t an issue. Fingers gripped my knee. I shrieked, nearly standing up but aborting the unwise maneuver at the last second.

“My apologies, lass, I thought your knee was the soap,” Jack said.

I flung the bar at him. It rebounded off his chest and dropped into the “tub”. “Don’t let me stop you from using such a unique sanitary product,” I said scathingly. “Here’s the sponge too!” It bounced off his cheek.

“I thought hot water was supposed to relax women,” Jack grumbled.

“Then there’s a great, grabby lobster in the tank with us, maybe not so much,” I answered.

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” Jack parried. He found the soap and sunken sponge without much trouble. “You’re the same woman who enticed me at the rail with talk of tasting things.”

“I guess,” I said, honestly surprised by his comment. “Will certainly doesn’t think I am.”

“Will’s a fool for not liking you the way you are,” Jack reminded me. “He’s like one of those people who buys an exotic, expensive bird and then clips its wings so it can’t leave him.” Jack leaned over until his head mostly disappeared in the water. Just as I began to fear he had his eyes open and looked at me, he came up.

I confessed to myself I’d always wondered how he cleaned his head, or if he ever did. Therefore, I made no effort to look the other way as he soaped up his hair. Arching his fingers, he pushed soap into his scalp, between the clumps of ropes. He knew the arrangement of knots well enough to be speedy with his work. When he seemed satisfied he’d lathered his entire scalp, he ran soap over the rest of his hair.

I moved out of the way so he could duck down further. After staying submerged for nearly a minute, during which time he frantically lashed his hair back and forth, he came up for air. I wondered how long he could hold his breath.

Jack shook like a doused mongrel, sending a cloud of patchouli-scented water everywhere. A small object struck my shoulder and stuck there. I picked it up. It was a curiously twisted bit of metal, bent into a semi-circle on one end. “Thanks, luv,” Jack said, snatching it out of my hand. I watched him tuck it inside one of his thicker locks of knotted hair.

“Lock pick,” Jack said, noticing my questioning look. “A man gets tired of trying to find grease for his iron cuffs.”

“Is this how you…” I couldn’t say it. I could not ask him that question.

Jack knew what I couldn’t say. “No,” he answered. He held up his hands. “My hands aren’t very broad. Usually I can pull free.” He smiled. “With grease. Without it… I don’t usually do as well. But it’s worth losing a bit of skin to avoid doing the hempen jig, savvy?”

“Or getting swallowed,” I muttered.

“That would have happened anyway.” Jack yawned, showing his gold teeth. Almost absently, he washed his beard and moustache. “You did what you had to do, Lizzie.”

“I didn’t have to,” I said, angry at his calm acceptance. “It made me sick to-.” I stopped, gathering a deep breath.

“I know what you’re going to say, Lizzie-beth,” Jack said softly. “You don’t have to explain it to me. You felt sick, you felt low, you felt justified and it didn’t help at all.”

I curled into a ball, rested my side against the rock with my head on the floor. “I can’t stop thinking about it,” I confessed. “I’d never committed murder. Cold-blooded murder.”

“You’ve been trying to atone for it, haven’t you?” Jack shook his head. “Doesn’t work that way.”

“It would help if you could be angry for it,” I said. “But you weren’t even angry when I did it.”

“I wondered if you’d notice that,” Jack said, running the sponge over his chest. Rivulets of whitish soap and water ran down his hard muscles. “I really should have been angry, but I enjoyed seeing you do it too much.”

“You’re sick, Jack,” I muttered.

“Perverted, I prefer,” Jack corrected. “But there’s nothing perverse about delighting in watching a cat learn how to control her claws. Nature is not all sweetness my dear, but that doesn’t make nature wrong, does it?”

I reflected on that. I had been the kind of child that tried to nurse every injured animal back to health, the kind of child that cried for weeks over the death of a pet. I hated death. Death seemed such a part of nature. Yet, I still enjoyed a sunrise and a sunset. In fact, I enjoyed them all the more because of their uncertainty.

“Why is it,” Jack said, breaking into my reverie, “I can labor a point for hours without getting it into your skull, yet I can casually throw out a philosophy and you’ll chew on it like a dog with a bone?” He wrung out the sponge and tossed it out of the tub, along with the soap. “And why is it that although I can’t follow your methods, you still know me better than anyone? Is this some sort of female power that men can only dream of harnessing?”

“How can I say when it’s all I know?” I posed seriously. “How would we go about picking that apart?”

“You speak man well enough,” Jack grunted.

“No I don’t,” I protested, sitting back up but still well under the water. “You men don’t talk, that’s just the thing. All I have to do to fit in is keep quiet but laugh when somebody gets hurt.”

Jack laughed out loud, genuinely, helplessly. “Aye, the measure of us,” he said. “But you forgot about your penis.”

At that I also couldn’t help a bit of laughter. “Was it really an unusual size?” I dared ask.

“I don’t know how you kept it in your breeches,” Jack said, biting his lip. “Honestly, Lizzie, the Kraken is a beast but that thing’s a monster.”

I sank down until all that showed of me was my eyes. The humor of what he said slapped me, and I choked in the water.

“Mokulu undressed you,” Jack went on, grinning. “When he came out from behind the privacy screen, holding a strangely lumpy shirt, his eyes wide, I knew something was up. I suspected you had something to make your masculine disguise more effective, but I never dreamed you’d have sexual toy in your knickers.”

“It’s not like I went out and bought it!” I said, still laughing. “Why would I need something like that when I’ve never even-.” I slammed my mouth shut, felt myself turn red with embarrassment. Jack’s eyes wandered over to mine, twinkling slightly.

“Do go on,” he murmured.

“No.”

“Oh please, Miss Swann, do enlighten me,” he coaxed, leaning back and crossing his arms.

“You knew what I was going to say anyway,” I huffed.

“I did,” he admitted softly. “I shouldn’t tease you about it.”

“Especially not when you’re determined to have it,” I pointed out.

“Admittedly, but what are you saving it for?” Jack asked, slightly smiling.

“I-.” I narrowed my eyes at him. He’d nearly tricked me. “I never said I was or wasn’t saving it,” I dodged. “It’s just something I can’t get back once it’s gone.”

“Men put a lot of value on it,” Jack said.

“Yes.”

“And it’s something left over from your other life,” he added.

“That too,” I divulged.

“Have you ever even felt it?” Jack asked softly. “Seems like you ought to, considering it’s so valuable and all.”

I didn’t know if he joked or not. Keeping his eyes, I leaned back in the water. Did I dare? He all but challenged me to find that piece of skin. I could do it and prove I could, or I could play it safe and protest my sense of decorum.

“I’ve never thought to,” I confessed.

“You might not even have one, Lizzie,” Jack said, looking serious. “Anything can break it. Any woman with a rough life, like yours, can break her barrier by accident. Have you ever found blood in your knickers when your menses wasn’t due?”

“I don’t think so.” I thought about my medical books and frowned. “Why isn’t this in any of my books?”

“I couldn’t tell you that.” Jack stuck his foot out of the water and massaged the bottom of it idly. “What purpose does it serve anyway? Why do men have knobby throats? Why do men have nipples?”

“I don’t know the answer to any of that.”

“The body’s a funny thing,” Jack said, putting his foot out of the water again. “It’s made pretty well, except for how easily it’s put out of commission. I broke this foot one time. Took a long time to get it right again. I hobbled around long enough to get right sick of it. I’d have rather broken me arm.”

“I’ve never broken anything.”

“I hope you don’t.” Jack sighed. “Speaking of which, good work not letting Gihr get his fool neck broken.”

“I had help.” I still felt ever so slightly sulky over that whole affair.

“You asked for help and got it,” Jack said in a serious tone. “That showed wisdom. And you offered an apology to him after jumping down his throat. That showed grit, especially when you don’t have any love for the man to begin with.”

“It was the right thing to do.”

“It’s very, very easy to not do the right thing,” Jack replied. “But we pirates stick together, if we can.”

“I like my mates.”

“You might like them, but they love you.” Jack pinned me with his dark eyes. “I’ve seen these lads, Lizzie, I know what they’re all capable of. None of them would see you come to harm.”

“I never wanted special treatment,” I complained, groaning.

“Special people get special treatment, dearie, so buck up.” Jack grinned at me. “Fact is, a woman who can make it on a pirate ship is more than a man, and we all know it. You kept up your charade long enough to prove yourself beyond doubt. Add your medical skills and your magic tootling on the pipes and you’ve been raised to a high status.”

“You enabled all of that,” I realized out loud.

“I helped, I didn’t make it happen.” Jack stretched luxuriously. “I’m waterlogged,” he complained lightly. “This is the longest I’ve ever sat a bath.”

“Well that’s a surprise,” I threw at him.

“Take baths with me more often and I’ll be as clean as you, my dear,” he said. “Think of the water we’d save.”

“Unless we bathe here, your dirt is going to stick to me.”

Jack’s eyebrows rose. “Good idea, we’ll bathe here from now on.”

“I didn’t say-.”

“Too late,” he chimed, putting his arms behind him on the ledge. He hauled himself out. I barely got my head turned in time. “You know, it is better you don’t look,” Jack said. “I might never get what you guard so well if you see what I have.”

“God, you’re so arrogant,” I muttered.

“I’m Captain Jack Sparrow,” he said, as if it were a proper answer. “And I’m going back out. Meet me at the front of the cave.”

I got out, got dressed in my clammy clothes, and made my way outside. The afternoon sun cast an orange glow on Jack’s clean skin. I took my time looking him over, from his finely-boned wrists and hands to his youthful face, to his exposed chest and wild hair. He possessed a beauty I’d never seen on any other man.

“Allow me a moment’s indulgence, dear lady,” Jack said lowly, coming close to me. “Stand still if you would.”

I stood frozen as Jack buried his nose in my hair. “Mmmmm,” he murmured. “Clean, wet, Elizabeth Swann,” he sighed.

Maybe I could blame his honest appreciation for my reaction, or maybe I could blame myself, I didn’t know. All I knew was that the first time I’d ever clapped eyes on Jack, he looked like this. Wet, dripping, hair hanging straight, kohl slightly running. My body leaned toward him as he sniffed me, betraying my interest. Jack’s arms came up to take me, but stopped just short. Rigidly, he forced them down to his side and backed away.

“Right,” Jack said quietly. “Shall we go, Lei?”

“Yes captain,” I answered. My relief had such a bitter tinge to it.