The Map

Almost Undone

This chapter is long, there are some mentions of nastiness but it shouldn't adversely affect your sleep, well I hope not. 

Chapter 27

Almost Undone

It was well into the witching hour and still the monks stood in a line in front of the crew. The fog stayed ever present at the door, the howling outside had dissipated slightly and Jack had the unearthly feeling that it was just waiting. But waiting for what, he had no idea. Hock was currently sleeping by his side, Nell was still lying prostrate but she had fallen into an uneasy slumber, her head turned towards him, her eyes shut.

Norrington and Bryant were taking their own guard through the night and it was currently Norrington who sitting awake, pistol across his lap, eyes as alert as they could be at this ungodly hour of the night.

Jack was deathly tired and he knew that if he didn't get a few hours of sleep, he'd be in no position to lead them tomorrow; and he had a nasty feeling that as they came closer to leaving the island, whatever was out there would try harder to prevent them from leaving. Jack's eyes closed and his head nodded on his chest. He woke quickly and sighed, rubbing his eyes with his other hand, then curled next to Nell, his head under her outstretched arm, his arm over her lower back and his face pressed into her side. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Thankfully, sleep overtook him quickly.

Norrington watched as Jack took a defensive position between Nell and the monks, curled up next to her, pressing into her as tightly as he could.  Norrington wasn't blind and neither was he stupid - he could see the bond that had been created between the pair of them, whether they knew it or not. He sighed as he looked round at the fog that was curling around the door still. It wasn't lost on him, that inside this building the evil on the island had been unable to take solid form or manifest itself in any other way. The building had given them no protection though and it was only the monks that kept the evil at bay. Norrington pinched the bridge of the nose sighing; it also wasn't lost on him that Nell had been correct in her assumption that the monks had been trying to help them. But, and this was what worried him the most, at what price were they helping? He knew that Beaumont and De Mornay had managed to escape the island before, that much was obvious. But how? How had they managed to get off this place when they knew nothing about what was to come?

"Sir?" a softly spoken voice beside him drew his attention. He looked down at Bryant who was sitting up rubbing at his eyes. "Any change?"

"No," Norrington whispered. "You should rest some more; I'll wake you when it's your turn."

Bryant shrugged and looked at the monks nervously, "Still there then?"

"Yes, and the fog too." Norrington sat forwards and stretched, raising his arms over his head as a yawn took him.

A mumbling from their left brought their attention to Will and Elizabeth. They, like the rest of the crew, had fallen into an uneasy sleep.

"What do you suppose has turned their eyes?" asked Bryant finally. Since it had happened earlier in the evening, it had been something everyone had avoided mentioning. Several of them had looked at Nell with sympathy, listening as she had prayed over and over until she had finally fallen silent in sleep, but no one had mentioned anything, not even to each other.

"Elizabeth said that 'they saw'," Norrington mused. "I think whatever they have seen was enough to darken their own souls, we can just hope that it isn't permanent or that their souls are not destroyed too. You understood the Latin didn't you, and that was enough. I think they must have been able to see it, like memories or something."