Chapter 15

Tanya

The blowing of the wind across the desert plain was the first thing that greeted my ears as I slowly came back to consciousness. The sound of sand running along other sand and the oppressive heat of the sun pulled me out of the unconscious state I had been in. Carefully, I sat up, confused, rubbing the side of my head and wondering what the hell had just happened. Looking around, I realized I was apparently on the Black Pearl. The sky was blue in all directions, it was a bright and sunny day, but something seemed off.

Carefully, I got up and moved along the deck of the ship, looking over the side and seeing more sand coming right up to the edge of the ship with no evidence of water anywhere. The Sahara Desert, maybe? No, that didn't make any sense. We were too far away from that. What had happened? I tried to interrogate myself, focusing on my memory and trying to cut through the fog. I kind of remembered... My hand went to my chest as I felt for the stab wound I knew should be there. It wasn't, though. Right, I remembered now.

We had been making our escape from the Black Pearl. I had been holding off attackers, making sure everyone made it off, when something stabbed me through the back straight to the front. I'd seen the blade glinting in the sunlight before I'd lost consciousness, presumably dead, and moving on to my next reincarnation. Looking down at myself, though, I didn't appear to be dead, and I didn't appear to be in my next reincarnation. Shaking my head, I tried to figure out why that would be. Then, looking out across the vast desert plains around me, I had a suspicion—a terrible suspicion. What if I didn't reincarnate because I'd been sent somewhere else before the reincarnation could happen? What if the reason I was aboard the Black Pearl in a desert with no sign of water in any direction, with no way for the ship to have gotten here, was because I was in an impossible place: the aforementioned and feared Davy Jones's Locker?

"Okay, well, let's run with that assumption," I said matter-of-factly, looking across the sands. "If I'm stuck in Davy Jones's Locker, what does that mean for me?" Not much, my mind came to, because I had no idea what exactly Davy Jones's Locker was. It was not a magic I was familiar with or one that Fine had taught me about. By the looks of it, it was just a plane of existence deep beneath the one people existed on. So how do you get out of a plane of existence deep beneath the existence that most humans exist on?

"Okay, I do not have a plan to escape this," that was easy to see. I needed more information, and I currently had none. So if I had no information about the current situation, what's my next move? Supplies. I needed to determine how many supplies I had and how good my situation was here on this ship. That's what my next move should be. With that determination, I quickly moved to search through the ship, finding out what had survived the transportation from the real world to the locker. That didn't take too long of a search, as it was mostly nothing.

The crates, barrels, everything that would have once had weeks of provisions, were empty, replaced with sand in most cases. About the weight of what should have been in there, by the looks of it. There was no food, and there was no water. That gave me a bad feeling.

Coming back down to the deck, I looked across the empty desert and thought, "There's no food, there's no water, and you can't die." That means you're going to sooner or later end up in a state of dehydration and starvation at the same time. Now, maybe because I was dead, it wouldn't really matter, but I didn't like the sound of that outcome. That seemed more likely than not to slowly drive me nuts.

"Well, at least I finally defeated Being X in his games," I chuckled, looking across the desert. Then I looked down at the desert and realized, yeah, I may have won that inevitable bout, but now I was just a dead soul on the back of a ship destined to starve, dehydrate, and lose my goddamn mind because there was no one else here as far as I could see.

With no social interactions, no food, no water, the only thing I had going for me right now was shelter. Looking at the Black Pearl, I wondered how long it would hold up under these conditions. Sand did have a tendency to slowly erode things, and who's to say there wouldn't be a massive sandstorm capable of eroding things much quicker?

This is all a very, very bad way to go. It made me realize I'd prefer Being X screwing around with me and being reincarnated rather than being left here, which said a lot about how bad my situation really was.

How was I going to pull myself out of this one? That was a difficult question to answer. There was no easy way I saw to make my survival any better…

There was a squawk behind me as a bird landed on one of the railings. I turned towards it and noticed it was a scavenger of sorts. I realized that my hopes of having shelter were a little bit more in trouble as well. If there were scavenger birds, that meant they probably scavenged off the souls trapped here. It could be a sign that you could die here, or it could be a sign that you ended up like that one character from Greek mythology where you were too weak to prevent the birds from eating your liver every day when it regrew.

Not wanting to ponder that matter, I quickly drew out a knife and threw it, using a little bit of magic to direct it. Thankfully, magic still worked, and it penetrated the side of the bird's head. It flopped around for a bit before falling over, laying there on the deck. I smiled. I had food. Now I just needed to figure out how to cook it.

Admiral James Norrington

"Here they come," St. Germain said as the Flying Dutchman slowly approached our vessel, gliding through the water with an eerie wave dispersing from it as if it were a ghostly apparition. My guess was that whatever will animated that collection of wood tied together to form a ship was not in a hurry or wanting to rush greatly and was coming on at only a slow pace, simply to scope us out.

The ship was on the smaller side, meant for speed and transporting material. A Dutch vessel in design, I recognized it from my years in the British Navy, both as allies and enemies over those many, many years.

"My guess is we should not be too concerned about it," I said. "We are aboard a French man-of-war. The only other vessel more heavily armed than a French man-of-war is a Spanish one, but I've already seen this French man-of-war manage to not complete a full victory against the smaller vessel. So, I know it's a vessel that can take a fight and give it back quite well, considering some of the damage I've seen on this vessel."

The ship came to a stop, and I could just barely see the monstrosities aboard it, the crew that had once been human, reduced to sea creatures and fishmen. They were horrific, and I could hear some of the French crew muttering curses and noises of disgust.

"So, how long do we wait till they come over?" I asked, still trying to get used to the new tone of my voice. I did my best to fiddle with the button of my collar. The shirt I wore didn't quite fit properly anymore thanks to what had been done to me, but it was better than nothing, considering I was feeling fidgety now.

"Well, obviously we wait for a gangway to be extended from them. Then they come aboard, and now we negotiate," St. Germain said as she walked up to the side of the ship, holding out the heart in her left hand and a blade in her right, making it quite clear that any attempt at funny business would result in a stabbing.

"There's no need for such threats," came a voice from behind us, causing me to jump a little. I turned to see a man more octopus than human stepping out from the center mast of the ship, his peg leg making a dramatic clunk as he moved our way. I quickly realized the peg was more of a crab leg.

"Ah, so you do have the ability to teleport between ships via wood. Interesting," St. Germain said, still holding the knife pointed at the heart as she stepped away from the railing.

"A French ship captained by a woman—unusual, but I guess times are changing," Davy Jones shook his head as he viewed both of us, clicking his tongue as he looked at me. "A British naval uniform? Now I know the Navy doesn't have female captains… hmm…"

"My compatriot here is not up for discussion, Mr. Jones," St. Germain said with a smile. "I'm here to discuss you recovering an artifact for us—an item from the bottom of the sea, something that was lost to us about a hundred years ago. In the deep waters between Haiti and Cuba. This is an item of great importance to my organization, and we would be quite happy to have it retrieved by you and delivered to us."

"Happy enough to return the heart?"

St. Germain smiled. "I would consider it, but it is not up to me. The leader of my organization will be the final arbiter on that decision. However, I will say if we do decide to keep your heart, we will move it somewhere very secure, somewhere that you will not have to worry about anyone but us having access to it. Beyond that, you wouldn't have to worry, since we have no use for you and would let you continue to do as you have been."

"Ah, yes, so I get to remain a free man, just on your beck and call whenever you decide that you need a little something retrieved from the bottom of the ocean," Davy Jones said, taking a step towards us.

"Are you even considered a man?" came a voice from behind Davy Jones. I blinked as Davy Jones turned quickly, because what was revealed when he stepped out of the way was not what I was expecting.

I was expecting some French lieutenant making a mistake, standing there looking a little bit too foolish for his own good.

Instead, there was a man sitting in a very comfortable French-styled seat, holding a paper with words written on it that looked rather disposable. He was dressed in finery that made him look almost noble, with his legs up on another little stool that was nicely cushioned. He had dark hair and was dressed in red and white. None of that had been there when Davy Jones had arrived, and none of that had been there at all the entire day. I had not seen anything like that, but it looked like it had been there the entire time, and he looked like he was very comfortable.

"I am a man, thank you very much," Davy Jones said to the individual who had appeared there.

The individual stood up, standing a good 6 feet 4, I would estimate, towering over everyone around him. He folded up the paper and put it under his arm, his broad shoulders making him look like a man who had been built for wrestling rather than one who should be dressed so finely.

"Beautiful. You took what made you human, the element that made the gods so proud of their creation, and tossed it away to become an immortal. And you didn't even get good looks out of it, by the looks of it," he chuckled to himself.

"Grandmaster Adam, please do not antagonize Davy Jones," St. Germain requested, to which Adam gave a nod before continuing.

"Of course, of course, you're right, St. Germain," he said, stepping forward and looking Davy Jones over. He offered his hand. "It's nice to meet you, Davy Jones. As your future employer, I would say your reputation precedes you—a quite large reputation, I would say."

Davy Jones took the hand with his tentacle-like octopus hand. There was a moment where they seemed to be just squeezing each other's arms as hard as possible to try and show who was the strongest. I swear I saw the Adam character flex his muscles under his shirt before they broke the handshake.

"I have no idea who you are, and I don't like the fact that my heart will be in your control, let alone the lassie over there who's got the knife to it," Davy Jones said, flicking his head in our direction.

"Yes, I understand," Adam said, holding up his left hand, which was now holding the heart. My head snapped up to look at St. Germain, who was now holding the knife and not the heart, looking down a little bit confused.

"She is a bit on the, how you say, careful side about making sure she has enough leverage. I don't have to worry about that myself," Adam said as the heart went behind his back and disappeared.

"Don't worry. I've placed it somewhere safe. It will not be destroyed as long as it is in the possession of the Illuminati. However, that is contingent on you being able to do what we require and retrieve what we want."

"All right then, tell me, Mr. Adam. What exactly do you need me to retrieve from the bottom of the ocean that you can't do yourself?"

"Oh no, no. Adam's my first name. Weishaupt is my secondary name: Adam Weishaupt. As for what I need you to retrieve, well, a hundred years ago I was moving my installation of equipment out from Europe to the New World. Things got a little bit dicey. You know how it is, yes? Stir the pot and see what fruits you bear. Well, as I was moving things out, I ran afoul of a certain pirate with long blonde hair..."

Sighing, Davy Jones nodded at Adam.

"Yes, the priestess. An old comrade she is to me—old hag she is, really—but that's a story for another time. Anyway, she knocked over the side of our vessel, I remember, a magic-infused doll capable of astrological readings at a level far beyond anything achievable by the greatest scientists of this era. Long in the past, it might have had some capabilities like it. I need you to retrieve this doll. It'll most likely have cemented itself inside clear crystalline amber to protect itself from too much damage at the bottom of the ocean. If you can find this, that'll be one way to secure your life. We're also looking for a mechanical device lost in the Mediterranean, although that one I think I can retrieve myself, so don't worry too much about that. The only reason I haven't gone after it to this point is because, well, I couldn't get to the doll."

"Give me that doll, and maybe I'll consider returning your heart. At least I'll make sure it's well protected until then."

"All right. It's an agreement, then. I'll get you this doll, Weishaupt. If you backstab me, though, I will drag you down to where that doll came from."

Adam laughed before saying, "Well, you're an entertaining fellow, Mr. Jones. That's good. It means I might actually let you go once this is all over. I'd rather watch your entertaining escapades from a distance than up close."

Davy Jones gave him a look before turning and walking into the main mast, leaving us alone as his ship came alive, turning and heading off east toward the general area that needed to be searched.

"Oh, that was fun. I don't get to speak to primordial entities under a new form very often," Adam Weishaupt said, walking up to us and giving a bow. "Good to see you, St. Germain. And my, what a fine specimen you've created for a new recruit," Adam said, patting me on the head like I was a child. Though, I guess when you're massively tall, you can pull that off.

"Grandmaster Adam, please be kind to Admiral Norrington here. She's still getting used to her new condition."

"Of course, my apologies," he said, giving a bow. "I'm just a bit in a good mood. I thought I'd never see that doll again, and now we're on the eve of recovering it. So exciting." He shook his head before turning to look at me. "Welcome to the Illuminati, Miss Norrington."

"I prefer Admiral," I said, before adding, "And I'm still trying to decide if I will be joining your Illuminati full-time or if this is just a short-term gig."

"Of course, of course," he said, waving his hand. "You have to get the feel of an organization before you rush in and join it, especially amongst the Illuminati." Turning towards St. Germain, he smiled, saying, "Callistro's on her way. She's bringing a few allies. I don't know when she'll arrive, probably within the next week or so. Make sure she introduces herself to Miss Norrington here. I'm sure she'll help her get used to her new form; she shares a similar story."

"Callistro? Wasn't she busy with something in Italy?"

"She was. She was very busy. Now she's not. The organization there is having some issues. I'll see to it, no worries." With that, he pulled out a letter and handed it to St. Germain. "It's her orders and the orders for her new partner on the next mission she'll be on."

"Of course," St. Germain said, folding the paper and sliding it into her dress.

I wondered if I should ask what those orders were, but Adam smiled as he seemed to pick up on what I was thinking, saying, "If you're wondering what I'm keeping so secret, you won't have to wonder for long. This mission that she's going to be on will have her dealing with a certain East India Company, which means the best person to be her new partner on such an objective is someone who's familiar with the British Empire. I wonder where we'll find someone like that." He smiled, looking at me before chuckling, turning away and walking back to his seat and taking it, pulling out the paper he kept under his arm the entire time. "I imagine there'll be some quite fun times for you and Callistro, Miss Norrington. Well, fun for Callistro."

I looked to St. Germain in confusion, who gave me a shrug as she looked at me. We both looked back towards where Adam had been sitting, seeing that he was gone. The chair, the stool—everything was just gone, as if it had never been there.

"How did he do that?" I finally said, pointing my hand at the area where he had been.

"Adam Weishaupt is like that. That's how he became the leader of the Illuminati. He's got abilities that go beyond what many of us understand."

I was a bit incredulous, but there was nothing much I could do as St. Germain shrugged and started walking towards the back of the ship, saying, "Come along, Admiral. If you want to be of help to this organization, I should probably teach you a few spells to get you out of bad situations."

Letting out a sigh, I followed after, unsure how I had gotten myself into this situation.

Jack

"You have got to be kidding me, Jack! This is who you go to for help in this sort of situation?" Fine said, pointing up at the swampy house overlooking the river as our little boat came to a stop at the dock.

"Why would I not go to Miss Tia Dalma?" I said with a shrug. "She's an old friend, very familiar with the ways of magic, and if there's anyone who knows how to get someone out of Davy Jones's locker, I would assume it's her." I stepped up onto the deck. "If anyone can get Tanya out or tell us how to get her out, it's her. And I know, I know—you and she have a history."

"History, history, history! I'm pretty sure she wishes me dead. The only reason she isn't going to try and kill me is because she knows it won't work," Fine said, stepping up onto the deck behind me.

William, behind her, shook his head as he asked, "What did you do to make it so that she would want to kill you? She seemed rather nice."

"Oh, you silly, silly poor boy. You really should get out of this whole situation while you can and just go back to Port Royal."

"Can't do that till I get the compass or Jack back to Port Royal," Will said, and I responded rather quickly.

"Which won't be happening until we get Tanya out of the mess she's in."

"Because you turned your back and let Davy Jones get a shot at her from behind," Fine said, seeming to want to grind in her disappointment in me but an acceptable statement as I gave her a nod.

"That's true, but why don't you explain to me why you and Miss Tia don't get along?"

Fine sighed before turning to Will, saying, "In my last reincarnation, she and I had a bit of a falling out, particularly since I used some of my magic to help the pirates put her in a better way for them."

"What?" Will said.

"It's a very long story, kid, and I don't have time to explain it. Just keep your ears open and you'll figure it out sooner or later," Fine said with a shake of her head as we finally arrived at the door. I stood up and knocked on it as heavily as I could, waiting for Tia to open it.

The door opened and Tia Dalma's face appeared, smiling at me. Then her eyes slid past me to Fine, and immediately that smile froze, died, and she stepped out of the door, saying, "Oh, if it isn't the sand priestess, out of time with her own existence. What brings such a pitiful woman to my domain?" She stepped right up into Fine's face, Fine doing the same.

"Oh, I don't know, Crab Lady, maybe it has something to do with the fact that your games with the lives of mortals have left one of them in a position that attacked something I hold as mine. Thus, I have problems with your magics, Tia Dalma."

"My magics are fine. You have problems with entities created out on the sea? Maybe you shouldn't be out there. After all, how's traveling the waves getting you any closer to your beloved god in the sky?"

"Gets me closer every day. I have patience, Tia Dalma. I'm waiting for my god to come back for me, unlike you, who couldn't wait a year and left a monster on the sea because of it."

"The oceans are an untamed world, Fine. You'd know that if you weren't such a—" I stepped in between the two, who were practically chest-to-chest, pushing them apart.

"Ladies, ladies! I know you two have a history going back centuries, but we are not centuries ago. We are not millennia ago. We are now. We have problems that have solutions now that we need to work out. Having an argument about these petty disputes while Tanya is stuck in Davy Jones's locker is not helping Tanya. So why don't we focus on that now, ladies, can we?"

Fine made a noise before saying, "Oh, focus on Tanya, though this flighty woman will help us."

"Oh, you wound me, Fine. You wound me dearly. But I will have you know I have no problem helping you rescue your friend from the grasp of Davy Jones. Assuming that you don't mind not getting in the way of some of my plans in the future."

Fine raised an eyebrow. I raised an eyebrow at that, but before I could really ask what that meant, Tia Dalma said, "But that's a conversation for later down the line. So, you want help retrieving Tanya from the locker? Well, I might have just the thing for the job—someone capable of giving you exactly what you want. The only real issue is Jack here being willing to accept the help."

Everyone looked at me and I coughed before saying, "Tanya helped me escape the bargain with Davy Jones. The least I can do is help pull her out of the locker."

"Spoken like a terrible romantic," came a familiar, rough voice from behind Miss Tia Dalma. At the sound of approaching footsteps, heavy boots, my eyes glided from Miss Tia Dalma up to the doorway as it opened fully, revealing a figure I thought was dead.

"What's the matter, Jack?" Hector Barbossa said, rubbing an apple on his sleeve before taking a bite, seeming to enjoy it. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Barbossa, you're dead," I said, pointing at him.

"Oh yes, I was dead, but you don't scour the seas for ten years looking for cursed items without making a few deals with a few friends along the way. Thank you, Tia Dalma," he said, giving a bow to her.

"No problem, Barbossa," she said, giving a slight curtsy to him. "Just stay good to our deal, and the new life I've given you will stay good."

"Aye, aye. You'll have your end of the bargain, Tia Dalma. You'll have it." Stepping down the steps before facing me, he added, "Jack, how's the Black Pearl? How's my ship?"

"My ship is locked in the locker with Tanya," I said, folding my arms, looking him over before saying, "Must have been one heck of a deal you struck, Barbossa."

"What can I say, Jack?" he said, taking another bite of his apple. "I've been trying to escape that curse for many years and I wasn't going to let death be the ultimate outcome of it."

Barbossa turned to look at Fine before smiling and saying, "Fine, it's been a long time. Last time we had a conversation, it was just after I removed Jack from command of the Black Pearl."

"Yeah, I remember. I informed you that you had cursed yourself by throwing that crew member of yours over the side of the ship into the sea. You look better for not being a skeleton, I'll say that."

"Hahaha, yes, yes, it's good to not be a skeleton anymore," he said, taking another bite of his apple before saying, "So about your daughter, I take it no hard feelings about the fact I threw her overboard with Jack, right?"

"You what?" Fine said, immediately drawing a short blade and bringing it to his neck.

"Oh, you didn't tell her about that, Jack? I was kind of under the assumption you would have been painting me as the worst image of myself in the world."

I smiled before saying, "I kind of forgot about that. I mean, it was like a small side adventure, and it's not like anything happened," I said with a lie on my lips.

"Jack, if I ever find out something happened, you're dead. You're worse than dead. There are things that will make you wish you were dead," Fine said, giving me a look that said I'd be turned into something unnatural.

"Noted," I said before continuing, "but best, Tia Dalma, why can Barbossa help us get Tanya out of the locker?"

"Why don't you ask him?" she mused, taking a seat on the end of her porch.

"I'll just come out and tell you, well, at least the parts that are important. You see, there is a way in and out of the locker besides the pathways of being slain by Davy Jones. I looked into this mainly because, well, when you're trapped as a skeleton for ten years just looking for ways to turn yourself back, you're going to start looking into many routes to do so. One of the possibilities was trying to find Bootstrap Bill Turner and free him from the locker," Barbossa said.

William looked up at that, catching Barbossa's eye, and Barbossa responded, "We didn't go too far with that idea because there was no guarantee that he was in the locker. He may have passed on and gone on to the next life without issue, or he could have been at the bottom of the sea, and we never found him. Very hard to determine. Anyways, we did locate that there is a way, and that there's a map drawn by an individual who was rather insane that would lead the way there. Said map is now in the hands of a lord of piracy in Singapore."

"Singapore?" William said. "You want to go all the way to Singapore to retrieve a map?"

"You want to get Tanya out of the locker, we have to have a good talk with the lord of Singapore."

"That's a long trip," I noted. "We'd have to go around the Horn of Africa or the tip of South America. It would take us months."

"I can knock a couple of months off that," Fine said, drawing her blade away and sliding it into her side. "Assuming he's telling the truth, I can easily get us to Singapore. It'll take a month or two, sure, but we can do it."

"So we have a deal then? We go to Singapore, we get the map, get Tanya, and the quest is done?" Barbossa proposed. I nodded, but Will shook his head, saying, "This is not just all over. Two months minimum to get to Singapore. Lord Beckett is going to get a little bit annoyed with me. I think at that point I probably should have contacted him by now."

Fine and I looked at each other before she said, "I think I can swing us by Port Royal and pay them a visit. Let the East India Company know that Jack's busy right now and can't come deal with whatever he wants Jack to deal with."

Actually," I scratched my chin before saying, "he just wants to have a conversation. If I go there under the guns of your fair golden ship, Fine, I could have that conversation. Will's contract is fulfilled and he is free from the bonds that the East India Company is attempting to put on him, and then we just get on with our adventure. There's no reason to involve Will with the piracy we will have to engage in to get to Singapore."

"Good points," Fine said before everyone looked at Will. Will slowly nodded his head before saying, "Alright. I don't know what your plan is. I mean, they have access to the Royal Navy and the East India Company Navy, but if you guys think it's okay, I guess it's fine."

Barbossa let out a laugh at that, which I shared with a chuckle as Barbossa said, "When it comes to Fine, you need a lot more than just the Royal Navy to defeat her. There's just a little bit of an imbalance of power."

"Say that again," I commented before I held out my hand to Barbossa. "Let's call this bad blood we have cold for now. After all, you stole my ship, I shot you, you're back from the dead. We're all even as it is."

"Yeah, even," Barbossa said in a way that made me think we might not be completely even, but he did give out his hand and shake, sealing that this conflict was over for now and that we would work together.