Song of the Sea

Chapter Ten: The Spirits

She never remembered falling asleep that night, but sure enough, she opened her eyes, and pale pre-dawn light was streaming in through the window. Jack was still sleeping, mouth slightly open. Diane looked at his sleeping face for a long moment before getting up and dressing herself. She brushed her hair free and slipped down the hallway, heading again for the library. Unwilling to touch the book with her bare fingers, she quickly tore off half a sleeve of her dress and wrapped it around her hand. However, the instant the fabric made contact with the cover, it burst into black flame. Diane yelped in shock and pain, dropping the book again.

"Damn thing," she hissed under her breath; she reached down toward the book, this time with her bare fingers, but before she'd touched it, she felt Jack's hand on her arm.

"And what did you exactly think you were doing, Diane?" he said playfully, nuzzling her neck. She tried to push him away, but he just twirled her around and pulled her closer.

"I thought I was trying to find out more about this damn thing," she said, slightly annoyed.

"Have you eaten yet, love?"

"No," she said, twisting out of his grip. He rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Bloody crazy. Reading before you've eaten. Get yourself up to the captain's quarters and get some breakfast in you, savvy?" Paying no attention to her (blatantly false) protests that she wasn't hungry, he frog-marched her out of the room and into the dining cabin. He pushed her into a chair and shoved a plate toward her. "Do you wizards fast in the mornings or something?"

She laughed. "No, we wizards just aren't hungry at times." Nevertheless, she pulled some biscuits onto her plate; she noticed suddenly that the usually amply supplied table seemed to be much emptier than usual. "Are we running low on food?" He paused a little before answering, examining the plates with unusual curiosity.

"We haven't stayed at sea this long since I regained control of the Pearl. I've been avoiding ports because I'm pretty sure that your nutter knows about Tortuga." He took a swig of rum and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. "Everyone in the Spanish Main knows that it's the only real pirate refuge left."

"Nice choice. Getting killed by Solomon or starving to death. Fun." She took a few more bites, then pushed her plate away, not feeling anything like hunger in her stomach anymore. "Any brilliant ideas, Captain Jack Sparrow?"

"Ideas? None," he replied lightly. "Misgivings? Many." He took another drink of rum and stared morosely into his bottle. "Most of them being about that book you got your hands on."

"The book that I got my hands on?" she said indignantly. "It's not my fault that it was on your ship." She swallowed a few gulps of water, wiped her hands on her napkin, and headed for the door. "Speaking of said book, I'm going to go have another look at it." Before he could protest or call her back, she headed out the door. Part of her ached for him to come with her, but she purposely ignored it. A piece of her conscience no longer spoke with her father's voice, telling her to follow her growing feelings for him.

But you do like him, Diane. Last night proved it, nagged the voice.

Shut it, she thought to the voice.

Ah, denial. The most predictable of human emotions. After love, of course.

It's not denial. It's practicality. I've got to keep a clear head, she reasoned.

Now you're rationalizing your way out. Diane, you certainly are predictable.

"Shut the hell up!"

"Miss? Is something wrong?" asked Mr. Gibbs' voice. She blinked and realized that she'd not only almost crashed headlong into him, but she'd said the last line aloud.

"No...nothing. Must be lack of food or something," she replied hastily, kicking herself for her stupidity. He nodded sagely and took a swig from his hip flask before speaking again.

"Aye. We haven't seen port or harbor for too long...bad luck, you know." He burped loudly, wiped his mouth on his collar, and continued. "Then again, it's also bad luck to have an evil wizard on our tail." She said nothing and became very interested in her fingernails, feeling the blood rise in her pale cheeks as he took another slow swig and examined her up and down.

"I couldn't agree with you more, Mr. Gibbs," she said quietly.

"Jack'll see us through," he said suddenly. She looked up in surprise at the conviction in his tone...how could he be so sure of that? As if he'd read her thought, he added, "He's seen us through worse before...and we'll stick with him to the end."

"But what if something goes wrong? Is there any plan for any of you if he does something wrong...if something happens to him?" Gibbs looked long and hard at her for a still moment, then he headed for the staircase to the deck and beckoned for her to follow. A blast of sea air, shouts, and light hit her senses as she stepped out above deck. Gibbs gestured to the men, who were raising the sails to catch the stiff, salty breeze.

"You see them lads, Miss Diane? They wouldn't be trying to make this ship move if not for Jack. It's him that gives them courage, and it's him they'll follow...whether they've got rope and canvas or guns and swords in their hands." He watched the men work for a few moments, then turned back to Diane. Something in her mind had clicked when he'd said those words; like the tiniest tumbling pebble in the mountains that starts a avalanche. When she didn't respond, he placed a hand on her shoulder for a few seconds, turned toward the bow of the ship, and assumed his position near the wheel. She watched the energetic bustle of the men; they had such purpose in their movements, all of them with a job to do and a place to be doing it. She only wished that she had the same purpose in what to do about Solomon...

"Thought you were looking at that book?" said Jack's voice behind her. She turned around and made a face.

"I think the issue of food is a more pressing one," she said ironically. Jack took a look at his men, then to her immense surprise, he put up a hand and beckoned them over to where he sat on the railing. They dropped their work after securing it and walked over with visible curiosity. Diane fiddled idly with her wand in her pocket and let her mind wander as he filled in his crew; she really didn't want to think about the unpleasant decision at hand.

"Aye, Jack! 'As the lass got any say on this?" said the voice of a pirate named Thames. "It bein' 'er fault that we're in this rut, after all."

"It's not her fault that she was a witness to a murder ten years ago," said Jack with an edge to his voice, but he turned to her nonetheless. "Well, any brilliant ideas from you?"

She shook her head slowly. "Can't say I've got any...at least, I don't have any that don't involve magic, and that's too risky." She looked at the faces of the pirates before her and suddenly realized that she hadn't really gotten to know the people behind those faces; she knew their names, but not the people who carried those names. I'm the cause for the storm, the ambush, the danger they're in, she thought, and I haven't even bothered to know them...

Jack noticed her sudden preoccupation and jumped in. "Looks like we have to choose, mates. We either stay at sea and wait it out, or we go to Tortuga and restock." The pirates murmured among themselves for several minutes before Jack spoke again. "How much food do we have left, Parker?"

"I'd reckon we've got nuff fer 'bout two weeks, Cap'n, with rationin' an' all."

"Not enough," Diane heard Jack mutter under his breath. He seemed deep in thought for several minutes before he said aloud, "Well, I guess our food supply really isn't enough to see us through. Is there any one here who would speak against going to Tortuga?" Only Diane and Gibbs' hands went into the air. Jack pointed at Gibbs and leaned against the railing.

"It's just...I've got this feelin' that Tortuga isn't the right way to go. I reckon it'd be easier if we just stop at another town and do what we do best." Jack considered for a few moments before nodding at Diane.

"I...I haven't really been honest with any of you other than Jack about how dangerous this man is," she began apologetically. "He is not to be taken lightly; he is more treacherous, dangerous, and mad than Barbossa could ever be in his wildest dreams. I didn't tell you about his powers, but among them are mind control, necromancy, and possession. I know that our food supplies are low, but I want to avoid another ambush like the one in the cave."

"But you're a magician too, aren't you, Miss?" asked a short little pirate.

"I am, but I'm no match for the likes of Solomon Annon. He would make short work of me within minutes...if he were in a good mood."

"Don't go scaring my crew, Diane," said Jack with an edge of dryness to his voice. "I really don't see any option for us but to head to Tortuga. We'll just have to be careful." He looked at his crew for support and no one made a sound of dissent. As he barked out some orders, Diane grabbed hold of his shoulder and spun him around

"Are you insane? You've seen the things he can do; the cave, the storm--"

"And what would be his point or purpose? He's in pursuit of you. That won't change whether we're in Tortuga or on board the Pearl."

"But what about you? What about your crew?" she persisted.

"A pirate's life ain't an easy one, Miss Diane," growled Thames. "We'll give that mutt o' yours a run fer 'is money." She stared at the defiant faces before her, then turned on her heel and headed down the stairs, the turmoil in her head now far worse than it was when she'd woken up this morning. Why wouldn't they listen to sense? Why did they make so light of this? She opened up the library door and was about to reach for the book of Greek myth when she saw the little black book on the floor.

It seemed to stare at her, daring her to open it. She stared back defiantly for a few seconds before scowling and hissing, "Fine. Fine, alright already!" Diane walked over and picked up the book, feeling as though invisible cold flames ran through her arm when she touched it; it felt like fire and ice, numbing, freezing, and throbbing all at once. She bit her lip and sat down heavily in a corner, opening the book at random to the middle.

It was an ink drawing of four people; or rather, it was a drawing of four beings. A man and a woman stood in the back of the picture, both impossibly tall and slender...impossibly beautiful. The man's long hair fell to his feet; he was wearing simple white shirt and pants, except for an elaborate moon motif circle emblazoned on his shirt. A thin circlet rested on his head, adorned with a sharp crescent. The woman was dressed in a long, flowing gown, a slightly darker shade than the man's, but she too had a motif on her clothing; an elaborate magic circle surrounding a sunburst. Her hair was long and curly, and she held a scepter tipped with an orb and sun in her hand.

In front of the woman lay a sphinx, but not the kinds that she'd seen in her books. It was black with pale streaks, and it had a pair of huge black wings, which sported a sprawling sunburst. The man was sitting astride a huge wolf, a pale wolf with long, flowing fur and pale, almost spirit-like wings. It too had a moon motif and circle, but on its broad chest. Diane studied the drawings for some time before looking at the bottom of the page.

It contained four lines in a pictorial script that she couldn't read. She tapped it with her wand. Nothing. She tried every spell she knew of for revealing. Nothing. Then, she remembered how the book had opened for her.

"Alohomora!" she whispered, tapping the words. Immediately, they began to change into a simple, elegant English script that she could read. Squinting a bit at the tiny letters, she read;

Bound by blood, by blood released,

The ones who mastered the deceased

You who reads this, wizard stranger

Free by blood, and face the danger

Or wonder until it drives you mad

What would have happened if you had

Diane stared at the page and repeated the lines to herself. The man and woman and the two creatures seemed as though they had something to do with necromancy; they could help...but "free the blood, and face the danger" didn't seem too comforting. "Or wonder until it drives you mad..." she repeated to herself. Sounds like if you don't release them, you'll go insane wondering what would have happened...doesn't sound like I have much of a choice...

Of course you do, Diane, said her father's voice in her mind. Don't be foolhardy. This book is dangerous, and you well know it.

Ok, so my only choice is to go dotty? I'd rather not, thank you, Father. She quelled the voices in her head and looked at the page for a long moment. Before her resolve faded, she pulled out her wand and drew a single drop of blood from her wrist. She let it drip on the page and stepped back.

Nothing happened for a moment, then slowly, the man's form began to rise from the page, followed by the woman's and the creatures'...their smoky, shadowy forms curled out of the book and slowly condensed beside it...Diane gasped as the man's form became nearly solid, his outline glowing with an eerie, silver light. His clothing was white with blue thread, and his long hair was a deep, brilliant silver, as were his eyes. The woman's hair was fiery red, her clothing red and gold, and her eyes a liquid amber. The towering sphinx condensed into night-black, save for the golden motif, and the wolf, like its master, was silver and blue.

Diane simply gaped at them; they took up nearly three-quarters of the space in the little room, and the man had to stoop slightly to fit. The wolf yawned and stretched its legs a bit, shaking its silvery head.

It was the woman who first saw Diane. She turned her amber eyes on her and, to Diane's immense surprise, smiled a bit. "Pharazon...I believe we are frightening the little one," she said softly to the man.

He looked puzzled for a moment, then spotted Diane, who was literally curled up in the opposite corner of the room. "Ah...I see what you mean, Miriel." He elegantly dismounted from the wolf and walked over to her, holding out his hand; she merely backed away further, all the while thinking, what the hell have I done?

"He won't hurt you, wizardling," said Miriel with a bit of a laugh; her voice was rich and warm. Diane cautiously took Pharazon's hand and let him pull her to her feet; his flesh felt cool and light, as though it were somehow less solid than her skin. He looked her up and down, circling her; Diane felt shivers run up and down her spine as he inspected her, exactly the way Jack had.

After a few moments, he stopped pacing and turned back to Miriel. "She seems too young to be a wizard. She's only nineteen winters of age."

"She opened the Book of Spirits and released us, Pharazon. That makes her wizard enough in my mind." Miriel stepped around the man and turned to Diane with a kindly smile. "Don't mind him if he's a bit sharp, wizardling."

"You would be sharp too after being stuck in that old book for a few hundred years," said Pharazon dryly. "Or at least, you would if you had normal emotions." He sighed and looked Diane in the eye. "You have a name, wizardling?"

"Diane Whitten," she said quietly. He furrowed his brows.

"Hmm. British wizard...but the only pure-blood British house that I know of is the house of Black."

"She doesn't need pure wizarding blood to be a wizard. In case you don't remember, I myself have some Muggle blood," said Miriel sharply. Diane felt something warm and wet nudge her elbow; she looked over and saw the great black sphinx pushing its nose against her arm. Slightly alarmed, she looked at Miriel, who laughed again. "It's alright, Diane. I suspect that Lailaith likes you." Sure enough, as Diane gingerly rubbed the sphinx's ears, it enthusiastically licked her hand.

"Your cat likes everyone," said Pharazon, rolling his eyes. "This is all very touching and everything, but can we please get to business?"

"Such as what?" asked Miriel calmly, petting her sphinx absentmindedly.

"Such as telling me what's going on," said Diane. "I'm sorry, but I don't really know who you are or what that book really is."

The two spirits looked at each other; Pharazon's wolf let out something between a howl and a yelp. Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, he turned back to Diane.

"Very well...I suppose you need to know, but listen closely. I do not like repeating myself."