Aztecs' Curse

Chapter 12

     Within the cove, the pirates whooped and hollered, all excited not only to be back to their treasure, but with what could be the key to their mortality. Most would've thought that they would enjoy living such a way--though, it was most definitely all too understandable, what with their inability to feel what they wanted to feel when they wanted to feel it. Though they could easy enjoy rampaging and pillaging, they weren't able to enjoy much more. After all, what were simple ideas of senses compared to the actual thing?
     Elizabeth's eyes widened as she was pulled into the center of the cove, where mountains of gold and jewels and various other treasures lay wait, unable to believe that there could be so much of it in one place. At this rate, they could be kings. Her eyes landed on the treasure chest at the center, unmistakably Aztecan. There was no doubt that this was the very chest Barbossa had told her about. She stumbled as one of the pirates pushed her, ushering her forward, and complied despite the growing sense of dread in her stomach.
     As they approached Barbossa, at the center, Pintel and the one-eyed pirate giggled like school boys as they carried a chest, prepped to dump its contents amongst the rest of the treasure--as the rest of the pirates were doing. "Ten years of hoarding swag," Pintel said as they struggled with the chest.
     "Now we finally get to spend it!" the one-eyed pirate said in response, and they giggled again before dumping the contents onto the ground.
     Umbrellas, dresses, and petticoats fell out.
     As the one-eyed pirate grabbed a dress and held it to his form, Pintel grabbed an umbrella with narrowed eyes before giving his friend an encouraging expression. "Once we're quit of the curse, we'll be rich men-" the one-eyed pirate set the dress down and grabbed one of the other umbrellas, opening it up and twirling it over his shoulder "-and you can buy an eye what fits and is made of glass."
     "This one does splinter something terrible," he responded before lifting a hand to his fake eye and rubbing it, his other one sparking with tears. Almost instantly, his fake eye squeaked in its socket.
     "Stop rubbing it!" Pintel said insistently.
     Bonsun stopped just as he began to walk by, the large pirate staring at the two other pirates--Pintel, of whom gave him a cheery and embarrassed grin--eyeing the umbrellas in their hands, and groaning as he rolled his eyes before walking away.
     Pintel, after a wave, turned to his friend and smacked him with the umbrella.
     At the center of the cove, Cyrus stood beside Barbossa, his arms crossed over his chest, eyes narrowed as he observed the scene around him, ignoring the dirty look Elizabeth kept giving him. Despite her bravery, there was no doubt about the fear that kept flitting across her features. Even so, he wasn't in the mood to terrify her even more than she already was, just wanting this to be over with so he could be on his way. Though, something told him that it was going to be much more complicated than that.
     "I cannot even begin to fathom your thoughts upon this," Barbossa started, voice hushed and raggedy.
     "Don't bother," Cyrus responded rudely.
     "Awful snappy," Barbossa said, "for someone taken under my wing, isn't it?"
     Cyrus turned to him, his expressionless eyes landing on the Captain's amused ones, and seemed to consider before saying, "The only reason I'm stuck in this mess is because you insisted that she could possibly still be somewhere out here."
     "Aye, and isn't it she who taught you ne'er to give up hope?" Barbossa asked, still as amused as ever, though the way he said such a thing was matter-of-fact.
     After another beat, Cyrus turned away. "Spare me your theatrics. She's dead and gone. That's all there is to it. I was a fool to follow you, as I was a fool to think that you could help me."
     "Am I not still helping you?" he asked with a wave of his arm. "A share of this is still yours, boy. You can take what you will, and start your own crew... Or, you can remain a part of mine, and I'll-"
     "What, help?" He glanced back over at the older man, his dark hair falling across his icy glare.      "That's what you said last time. Now, I won't say it again. She's dead." His voice cracked somewhat, and he stiffened before turning away again, refusing to let his emotions get the best of him, especially in a cave crawling with pirates.
     "Aye," the Captain said again. "But, you don't really believe that." There was a beat. "Do you?"
     Eyes pained, Cyrus glanced over at Barbossa again.