Emerald Seas

Chapter 32

The slight cold summer raindrops fell down the beige leather of the boots that were standing near the altar, one slightly lifted upon the cobblestones that weren't perfectly flat. The light colored fabric of the trousers above the boots were close to soaked right now and too was the vest and coat covering the trousers. The gold treading of the clothes gleamed within the few rays of sunlight that almost made the courtyard, decorated with white flowers and blossom everywhere, look magical like a holy light touched everything. Tables which were ready to be served food on later wore the soaked tablecloths, on top the porcelain china and glassware filled with rainwater instead of champagne. It was wet, empty and silent. Every guest that had arrived seemed to have vanished into thin air like they were never invited. The figure at the beginning of the aisle toward the altar was waiting, standing there for what felt like forever.

It was Cutler, who now moved down his brown tricorn hat which revealed his white wig, one of the few things on him still dry. Lowering the hat alongside his body, his shoulders slouching as his piercing blue eyes, reflecting the rain combined with the slight sunlight, kept on staring without looking back. He waited, more than necessary as the thing he waited for was not going to happen. He was waiting for something, or rather someone, that would never come, but not out of free will.

An hour earlier Jack rushed through the docks, in the distance he watched the Wicked Wench almost fully prepared for the trip. Everyone was onboard, even the "cargo" by now. It wouldn't take another hour before it would leave, exactly two o'clock in the afternoon. The same time the wedding was to start. But Jack carried a burden, a burden that made his heart quicken with each step he took. The fate of the bride was in his hands.

By the time he rushed back, away from the docks after being informed by some of his men, telling him the ship was ready to set sail, his heart seemed to be bursting from his chest. Especially as he met again with the frightened emerald eyes that contained less life in them with every minute that passed.

'Jack.. what are you doing?' Kate tried to press the words from her lips while she watched Jack, soaked by the heavy rainfall enter the room again. He had commanded no one to enter, so it was pleasant to hear him return as the fear kept on growing inside her with every second alone. Watching her hands Kate saw the tips of her fingers were covered in the purple veins that started to rise up to her arms. Her trembling hands were held still by Jack's warm fingers suddenly. He crouched down in front of her as she was sitting on a chair, the pearl white fabric of her train was spread across the wooden floor. His dark brown eyes pierced hers, they carried worry and great concern.

'We need help. I have seen the supernatural and this is a curse' Jack spoke with wisdom to his voice. He offered her two long pearl white gloves he managed to find between the seamstress' stuff still spread across the room. They reached all the way past her elbows. Kate watched him in confusion but accepting the gloves she tried to keep her hands as still as possible to move them over her trembling icy fingers.

'And where do you suppose we can find help?' Kate spoke quick, very quick. As if she was afraid she would lose all of her breath as she spoke. Jack tried to pull her up from the chair after the gloves covered her almost purple hands. For a moment he had stared at the strange and worrying sight, but it was obvious he was forcing himself to hold his tongue and he too did not answer her question.

Outside the rain continued pouring down. Jack had taken his leather brown vest and threw it around Kate's far to small shoulders, she almost drowned inside the large jacket, but Jack's body heat that the fabric still contained was pleasant on her cold skin. The mud stuck on the lace hem of her white wedding dress made her stomach turn for a moment, but it was least of their worries now.

It took long, to long and her feet started to crumble away from underneath her, at least it felt that way. Jack's tall legs and quick pace were hard to keep up with. Every time Jack turned his head around to see if she was still alright, but it turned away just as quick as it was obvious he was making sure they weren't followed. Holding her hand tightly he almost dragged her along. It pinched, the hold he had on her fingers, she swore they felt like breaking cause of freezing cold. Moving them slightly she noticed Jack weakening his grip, but it too could have been because of the fact they arrived at their destination, still unknown until she raised her sight up high. It was the grand Wicked Wench that was ready to depart from the Nassau docks, as planned for Jack's voyage.