Adeena Cole: At World's End

Chapter Thirteen: Allure

Jack didn't know whether to be amused or further offended. 

"Bravo!" He decided to say, standing from his crouched position on the bowsprit. "You escaped from the brig even sooner than expected!"

William Turner jumped, startled, and whirled around, holding a dagger. He studied Jack with distrust, his back to the recently tied down dead body. Another barrel, a similarly set up, floated down by the hull of the ship.

Jack beamed, making his way down the long beam of sorts. "William, do you notice something? Or rather, something that is not to be noticed?"

Will glanced around, as if looking for someone to mention Jack's insanity to. "You haven't raised an alarm." He said, meeting Jack's gaze again, raising his eyebrows.

Jack grinned. "Odd, isn't it? But not as odd as this." He reached the small balcony and jumped down to stand with the former blacksmith. "Come up with this all on your lonesome, did you?" 

William gave him a dry look. "I said to myself, think like Jack." 

Well, you did a remarkable job. Jack thought.

"And this is what you've arrived at? Lead Beckett to Shipwreck Cove so as to gain his trust and accomplish your own ends?" He did his best to look offended. "It's like you don't know me at all, mate." 

Will looked mildly sheepish. Jack had to give him credit; he had been wonderfully witty and resourceful.

"And how does your dearly beloved feel about this?" He asked, knowing immediately he'd hit a soft spot.

Will looked away, sighing.

"You haven't see fit to trust her with it, then." He stated.

Will looked out to sea. The waters were rough and grey; the night sky ominous. "I'm losing her, Jack." He replied softly. "Every step I take toward my father, is a step away from Elizabeth."

Jack felt a twinge of guilt, knowing he had a similar problem. But now was not the time to be guilty.

"Mate, if you lock your heart away, you'll lose it for certain." He said, choosing to be wiser than his usual carefree self. "If I may lend a machete to your intellectual thicket--avoid the choice altogether." Jack complemented his genius mentally. "Change the facts. Let someone else dispatch Jones."

Will looked incredulous. "Who?" He asked. 

Jack smiled pointingly. 

"You?" Will said dubiously.

Jack grew slightly more serious, thinking of Davy Jones' locker. "Death has a curious way of shuffling one's priorities. I'll slip aboard the Dutchman, find the heart, stab the beating thing. You're father goes free, and you're free to be with your charming murderous."

Will glared at the nickname Jack chose for Elizabeth. "And you're willing to carve out your heart and bind yourself to the Dutchman, forever?" He sounded skeptical.

I'm not that not trustworthy, am I?  "No, mate," Jack corrected, shaking his head. "I'm free. I'm free forever, free to sail beyond the edges of the map, free from Death itself."

Will made the point Jack had forced from his mind. "You have to do the job, though, Jack. You have to ferry souls to the next world, or end up just like Jones." He gestured at his chin, miming tentacles.

Jack frowned, think of his handsome beaded goatee replaced by something squid-ish. He tentatively stroked the Jamaican beads to reassure himself that they were there. "I don't have the face for tentacles. But immortal has to count for something, eh?"