Ice Queen - A Pirates Of The Caribbean Love Story

Chapter Eighteen

I closed my eyes. We had come this far; there had to be a way out of this. But I couldn’t think of one.

Until a quiet voice said: “Do you lot want to be up there, or shall I set you free?”

We all looked down. A boy of about eighteen stood there.

“Who might ye be?” roared Barbossa.

“Name’s Jack.” The boy glanced at me. “Jack Turner.”

“Any relation to Will Turner?” I asked, though I knew the answer. “Jack…” I looked at Jack Sparrow. “Will’s not here because of the treasure! He’s here to see his son.”

“How do you know that?” the boy asked me.

I smiled. “Get me down and I’ll tell you.”

He shinned quickly up the tree from which my rope was tied. He untied the rope and I fell heavily to the floor. Winded, I lay there for a moment before getting up. “Thanks.” I climbed up Jack’s tree and untied his rope, watching with a little bit of unholy glee as he fell hard on the ground.

“You enjoyed that, love,” he observed.

“Oh, I did! You dropped me once, remember?”

“So I did. I’ve always regretted that.” He caught hold of my hands when I climbed down the tree. “Always regretted the premature end to what we were doing.” He leaned closer towards me. “If you ever fancy a continuation…”

I smiled. “Maybe after we find the treasure…” I turned back to Will’s son. “What do you know of the treasure?”

He grinned at me. I couldn’t help liking the look of him. There was something about his lazy smile and his half-shut eyes. This boy could be relied on. He looked dependable, strong and determined. He reminded me of myself.

“I know everything about the treasure, Miss,” he said, softly. “I’m here to get it.”

“Son…” Jack said. “How’s your mother doing?”

I watched as the boy’s face clouded. “She died,” he said, expressionlessly. “Of a broken heart. Once every ten years wasn’t enough. She couldn’t live without him. He killed her.”

I glanced at Jack. “What does he mean?” he whispered.

“I mean,” the boy said. “That my father, Captain Turner, killed my mother. Anyway, that doesn’t concern you.” He whipped out a sword. “You seek the treasure of Scarecrow Island? I can’t let you have it.”

“Oh, can’t you?” I asked, unsheathing my sword. “We’ll see about that.”

He grinned at me, mockingly. “Think you can beat me?”

“Know it.”

I pulled out a knife and aimed it carefully before I threw it. It whistled through the air, just missing his body. Instead, it trapped him, pinning him by his sleeve to a tree. “I learned that trick in Spain,” I told him, circling round him. “Comes in handy once in a while.” I took his sword away from him. “Jack Turner, you will help us find the treasure. Because I’m willing to bet you know a safe way to get to it.”

He winked at me. “Aye, Miss. That I do.”