*on hold*
THIRD INSTALLMENT OF THE MARMORIS SERIES
"Jack," said an angelic voice. From behind Barbossa, Cata revealed herself. "We're here. We're real."
He was going to say something but found he couldn't speak. In all of his hallucinations, Catalin...
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Catalina and Barbossa shared a glance, neither of them wanted to share with Sao Feng what they were searching for. But the only thing they had to worry about was beating Will's ass for he shared all too willingly.
"Jack Sparrow. He's one of the pirate lords."
Sao Feng's blood boiled from repressed rage and he paced about his bathhouse, eyes closed. "The only reason I would want Jack Sparrow returned from the land of the dead is so I can send him back myself!"
"Jack Sparrow holds one of the nine pieces of eight. He failed to pass it along to a successor before he died. So we must go and get him back."
"So you admit you have deceived me. Weapons!" He unsheathed his sword and his men swiftly followed, tightening the circle around Barbossa and Cata.
"Sao Feng," said the older pirate. "I assure you, our intentions are strictly honourable." Half a beat after he finished, the crew below them shot their swords up through the gaps in the floor. Cata caught them with ease and kept her arms tucked closely to her sides.
Sao Feng then grabbed a man, shoving his sword against his neck. "Drop your weapons or I kill the man!"
"Kill him," Barbossa agreed. "He's not our man."
"If he's not with you, and he's not with us . . . Who's he with?" Will questioned, glancing about.
They got their answer when shouting from outside were heard and the Royal Navy burst down the door and flooded inside, firing on the crowd.
Cata sighed and lifted her swords, defending herself with ease as Navy men overwhelmed the place. She knocked a man off his feet and he stumbled to the ground in a chaotic mess, hitting his head numerous times. Beside her, Cata noticed Will had managed to free himself and shouting his name, she tossed one of her weapons. He caught it and, with Elizabeth now wielding one of Barbossa's swords, fought off their assailants.
A new wave of men shoved their way through, and in the middle of it all was a man Cata did not recognise. He was dressed not in uniform but in high-class civilian clothes. The man's eyes were dark, not just in colour but in the manner of his heart. He raised his gun to her and cocked it, firing. But the adrenaline from the situation that coursed through her veins allowed Cata to duck in time. She looked up in time to find that the bullet had made its mark but on one of the bathhouse workers instead. It had been a young woman, bright and beautiful, in a moment all she could have achieved was taken from her. Catalina felt a new surge of anger and frustration well in her bones, and she pushed herself back into the throng.
