The Cry of Liberty

Chapter Twenty: Alone

Sasha stared up at the night sky. She was grateful for the curse in some ways, the salt water didn't hurt her eyes nor her lungs. The moonlight filtered down through the waves and revealed the curse's true nature. Little fish would swim around her, some who were brave enough swam through the gaps in her bones. She leaned her head back against the mast and sighed.

"Well, well, well." She didn't even bother looking at who was speaking to her at the bottom of the east Atlantic ocean. "I wasn't expecting to see another drowned corpse touched by the Aztec gold." The new presence seemed to blow an air bubble around them so she could speak. Sasha coughed up the water from her lungs.

"You must be Davy Jones." She lolled her head to the side and took in his fish-like appearance.

"Heard of me, have we?" Even with an octopus morphed head he seemed very expressive, eyes glistening with curiosity.

"Never met an honest sailor or pirate who hasn't. So let's hear it then." She smiled innocently at his confusion. "Your pitch for my soul, let me hear it."

"You've already made up your mind." He growled, spittle hitting her in the face. She couldn't feel it but knowing it was there was disgusting enough. Oh how she wished her hands weren't bound.

"I have but it'd be rude to not hear you out after coming all this way. Who knows, maybe you'll convince me." She shrugged. The anger radiating from Davy Jones was almost palpable and it entertained her.

"Bootstrap begged for me to save him and here you are giving me sass." She shrugged again. "I can free you of this curse but in exchange you will serve on the Dutchman for one hundred years." Sasha wiped her cheek clean on her shoulder.

"I will unfortunately have to decline. I didn't spend the last ten years of my life freeing others just to become a slave in death." Jones' face contorted with rage. "And as long as I remain cursed you cannot touch my soul, but do feel free to try again, maybe a few years of isolation will loosen me up." Jones snarled as he released her little pocket or air, disappearing before her eyes. Salt water rushed to refill her lungs and she laid her head back against the mast.

There she remained as the sun rose and fell, barnacles and corals beginning to take root in the wood of the mast and fiber of her ropes. The wildlife crew more accustomed to her presence and watching the sea turtles play and the sharks stalk their prey was all the entertainment she had. Jones would return like clockwork, the only marker she had for another year passing. About three years in, she found herself on the verge of giving in and letting him take her but she managed to stay lucid long enough to remember her resolve.

Oh how she wished she could sleep, pass the time dreaming of better things. She wondered how her life would have turned out had she not quite literally bumped into Thomas that day in the market. Perhaps she would have married a sheep farmer, spent her life tending to him and a litter of children. How pleasant it would have been to awaken to the gentle bleats of their herds and the love of an honest man. If she was lucky, she could have caught the eye of Lord Daubney's eldest, Allistair. How fun it would have been to attend lavish parties and grand balls, gossiping with the other wives while their children stayed home with their governesses.

She knew those lives would have been much better than learning that your husband traded lives for pay, but she would have remained blind to how the world worked. She would never have learned to be her own woman, not dependent on anyone to tell her what to do and how to act.

She wouldn't have gotten to know Elias, Davu, Allard, Jocard, Tia, or Jack. Her heart ached for the loss of Elias, tears mixing instantly with the water around her. She prayed that Davu and Allard were safe somehow. She wanted to hear more of Tia's stories for she knew they'd be a welcome distraction. She longed for Jack to wrap her in his arms and pull her in close as they sat on the stairs of his ship telling stories to each other. She missed the way he looked when he was at the helm, the way his beard would tease her neck as he whispered in her ear.

"Love sick, eh?" Jones scoffed at her. Her head slumped over from the gravity in the air pocket. "Perhaps you have chosen the wiser fate."

"I chose this fate to honor him." Her voice was rough from the year long silent spells.

"I thought that once too." His voice softened. Sasha forced herself to look him in the eye.

"You betrayed her, don't compare my sacrifice to your cowardice." She growled. He grabbed hair with his claw, jerking her head back. He stumbled over his words, unable to think straight through his fury. He let her go and slammed the water back in place.

"See you next year, Hartford."