The Doctor

Briggs shouldered the door to the great cabin open and bustled inside. It was obvious to everyone that the quartermaster was not a happy man at that moment. "Sorry for bein' late," he said as he pulled his chair up to the table. Briggs grabbed the bottle of brandy and poured a nearly full glass. Jack and Duckie exchanged amused looks as he drained the glass and poured another. "Rough day?" asked Jack. Briggs looked at the ceiling and sighed. "Ye know them men we took on at Bridgetown?" Jack nodded. "Yes, what about them? They seemed able enough." "Idiots," huffed Briggs. "Well intentioned, but dumb as a bucket of rocks! I don't mind a man bein' green as grass, but these..." He shook his head and knocked back half his glass. "Inexperienced?" Duckie asked. "You've dealt with inexperienced men, Josiah, and taught them well. What have they managed to do that's got you so frustrated?" Briggs crossed his arms and leaned on the table. "Duckie, I had not one, but two men hangin' upside down by their boots from the mainsail riggin' this afternoon! After witnessin' a sorry performance like that, ye'll be forgivin' me a drink or three." Duckie tried hard not to laugh, but failed. Jack shook his head and indulged himself some brandy. "They'll get the hang of things..." Briggs shot him a pained expression. "... pardon the pun," Jack smirked. "You'll have them trained in by the time we port in Beaumaris." "If I don't kill 'em all first," grumbled Briggs. "Now, now, Josiah. You'll need them all if you're to get the ship to Amsterdam." Briggs' face lit up. "Amsterdam? Ye know I'm willin', but why?" "I'm not about to try and sell our cargo anywhere within the Commonwealth," explained Jack. "Their agents ask too many inconvenient questions. That's why I want you to take El Lobo to Amsterdam and oversee the sale of the cargo personally. For a handsome percentage, of course." "Ye needn't sweeten the pot, Jack. Not when ye're sendin' me to that happy town!" "Well, in that case--" "But I'd be ungrateful if I said no," Briggs continued quickly. "We can't have that, can we?" laughed Jack. "Whilst you're there, I'd like you to get the ship inspected and any repairs made. I trust you won't mind a few extra days in port?" "Aye, it'll be done. Probably take a month all told, I reckon." "Perfect! I was estimating the same," said Jack. "That will give me plenty of time to get to know my little Zara." Briggs could tell from the look on his friend's face that he could have said the Amsterdam run would take six months, and Jack would have been fine with it. "As well as your other new family members," said Duckie with a smile over the rim of his glass. "My other..." Jack began, and his voice trailed off. "Oh." "Yes, your in-laws! Honour has told me about Megan and her husband. They sound delightful." Jack fidgeted. "That's what she tells me, as well. Honestly, I'm not sure which I'm more nervous about. Seeing Zara, or meeting Honour's sister?" Briggs took a sip of brandy, and stared into the glass. "It's not the wee one what's got ye worried," he said quietly. "When they're that tiny, they haven't learned how to judge yet. All they do is love ye." He looked his friend in the eyes with a mixture of happiness, envy, and regret. "When ye hold that precious tiny thing, ye'll understand. And it'll change ye forever." "Yes, and just think how Megan and Daffyd will feel!" Duckie interrupted. He knew how deeply Briggs had been hurt by his son's rejection. The last thing he wanted was Josiah's wound reopened and Jack's moment spoiled. "No doubt this will be an awkward meeting for them as well. It's not every day you open your home to a notorious Caribbean pirate that just happens to be your brother-in-law." "She'll likely be countin' the good silver every fifteen minutes," Briggs chuckled. "Then I'll turn my pockets out for her every ten," said Jack with a wry smile. Briggs was right. He was very concerned about how Honour's family would receive him. The last time Honour was with them, she and Jack weren't on the best of terms. And she hadn't been at all forthcoming about what she had told them. "Everything will be fine, Jack," said Duckie reassuringly. "You'll do what you always do; charm them completely. They'll soon realise their trust is more valuable to you than any of their belongings." "I hope you're right, Ducks. I need this to go well." "It will. Once they see how much you and Honour love each other..." "And hear how often ye do," interjected Briggs. Jack picked up the cork from the brandy bottle and tossed it at Briggs' head. "Well, there's that, too!" Duckie laughed. "My point is, you will feel like part of their family before you know it. Because thanks to Zara, you are part of the family already." "Feeling like part of my family meant having someone try to stab your hand with a fork if you reached for the potatoes out of turn," said Jack. "Affection takes many forms, Jack." Duckie smiled and sipped his brandy. "Speaking of family, I won't be accompanying the ship to Amsterdam. I'd like to visit my, um, family in Shrewsbury. That is, if it's all right with you, Jack." "I didn't know you had family in Shrewsbury," said Jack. Duckie straightened a bit in his chair. He didn't want to reveal that the family he was going to visit was his sister Rose. Jack's first love. "They moved there two or three years ago. I promised I would come visit if I was ever able. Since it would seem I have a month available, I'd like to make good on that promise." "I don't see there bein' much of a need for your services on a simple run to Holland," Briggs said thoughtfully. "Maybe afterwards, dependin' upon the quality of the company the men keep..." "In that case," said Duckie, "make sure you pick up a supply of mercury. I have the feeling I'll have a surgery full of men requiring aid." Briggs laughed. "Consider it done! I'll give 'em the speech, for what good it'll do." "Shrewsbury," Jack said, stroking his chin. "That's a far cry from Basingstoke. Your family have always stayed close to the ancestral farms. What on earth would possess them to move to the West country?" "Yes, um, it was a bit of a surprise to me as well," Duckie lied. Rose was a notorious status seeker, and she had managed to marry Edwin Carlisle, the Earl of Shrewsbury. A powerful man twenty years her elder. And true to form, she became a wealthy widow. Duckie loved his sister, but he couldn't help feeling ashamed of her. "Then it's a good thing we're porting so close," said Jack. "It will shorten your trip considerably." He took the bottle of brandy and topped of everyone's glasses and raised his own in a toast. "Gentlemen! To success in all our endeavours! No matter where they take us, may they always bring us back together!" The three men drank, and drank again as friends and comrades, each one uncertain yet hopeful as to what the future would bring.

Jack? Jack! Have you heard a word I've said?” Honour's question broke his reverie. In fact, he hadn't heard her at all. His thought were consumed by the fact that they were one step closer to seeing their daughter. “I'm sorry! My thoughts were somewhere else,” he said with a smile. Honour gave a laugh. “I'll say they were. Let me guess... Wales, perhaps?” It was his turn to laugh. “You know me too well, my love. Are you sure you've dressed warmly enough? I'd hate for you to catch a chill whilst you're here. Then I would have to share you with Duckie!” Honour laid her head on his shoulder. “No, I'll be fine. Besides, it will be a lot colder than this once we reach Beaumaris. I have to toughen back up!” “Don't toughen up too much, love. I'm rather fond of your tenderness.” “No need to worry, darling,” she smiled. “Tenderness for you is something I'll never run short of.” “I'll hold you to that!” he chuckled. “Now, see there? Those are the shops I told you about. The last time I was here, they carried the finest in Portuguese laces, woollens, and the like. Maybe they'll have something cozy and warm for you. And Zara too!” “When were you here last? It must have been quite a while.” “Oh, five years, give or take. It was a joint venture between myself and my old friend, Rhys Morgan. God rest his soul.” Honour felt a small pang of sadness at that name. It was the first time she had heard Jack speak it since their honeymoon, and it struck her as odd that it should come up seemingly out of the blue. But then again, this was Rhys' old haunt on his many jaunts in and out of the Mediterranean. “Five years is a long time in this area, what with all their squabbles with Spain. You're certain we'll be safe?” she asked. “Darling, any enemy of Spain is a friend of the Portuguese. Given that, I'm practically a national hero.” Honour turned and took him by the lapels of his frock coat, drawing him close. “National hero, eh?” she said with a sly smile. “How much store credit do you get for that?” Jack laughed and kissed her gently. “Not nearly enough.” She gave him an exaggerated pout. “Oh. Do they take guilders?” “Yes, darling. Whatever coin you carry, they'll gladly take.” She grinned at him, and shook her purse. “Shopping awaits, then!” As she descended the gangplank, Jack called after her. “I promise I'll be along shortly! So please, stay close to the waterfront?” “I promise!” she replied with a wave. Jack turned his attention to Briggs, who was having an ever louder discussion with a local stockman who had come aboard to take an order for ship's supplies. “Twenty barrels... BARRELS...” he made a rough barrel shape with his arms, “of salted... SALTED... pork. PORK-O!” The stockman held his hands up in utter frustration. Jack stepped in to defuse what what quickly becoming a bad situation. “Sim. Nós queremos vinte tambores da carne de porco salgada,” he said calmly. The stockman broke into a smile of relief. “Sim, sim! Você precisa qualquer outra coisa?” “What else do we need, Josiah?” “Um, thirty barrels of dried beef.” “Trinta tambores da carne secada. Is that it?” “Forty five barrels of water? That should do it.” “Quarenta e cinco tambores da água fresca. Aquele é todo.” “Muito bom, senhor! Eu tê-lo-ei manhã amanhã entregada. Obrigado!” With that, the stockman turned to leave. “Apenas um momento! Uma mais coisa...” said Jack, and the man stopped. “Talvez você poderia encontrar um tradutor para meu amigo? Preferivelmente uma cabeça vermelha?” The stockman laughed loudly. “Eu penso que eu conheço apenas a menina! Mas é cara!” Jack walked back to Briggs, who stood there with an exasperated look on his face. “Is there any language ye don't speak?” “Cantonese. And Polish.” “Too much gibberish?” “Yeah. And the Cantonese is almost as bad. But at any rate, the goods will be delivered tomorrow morning.” “Aye, that'll do. Now what was that bit at the end that had the two of ye laughing so hard? It had to be at my expense.” Jack chuckled. “I asked him if he could find you a translator. Preferably a redhead.” “That'd do just nicely! Thank ye, Jack,” beamed Briggs. “Oh, don't thank me too fast! He knows the girl, but she's expensive!” Briggs smile faded a just a little. “I'll suffer through, for a redhead,” he shrugged. A little while later, Jack was walking the bustling streets of Sao Miguel. The port town had grown considerably in the years since his last visit, so much so that it had lost much of its familiarity. He thought back to his days working with Rhys, intercepting Spanish merchants and trafficking the goods from the Azores to Ireland and Wales, and even Holland. It had been a profitable partnership, until the lure of the New World became more than Jack could resist. He continued walking among the open air shops, hoping to find Honour. While he knew she was close by, he really didn't care to be apart from her. One of the shops caught Jack's eye, and he stopped to browse. Piled in heaps on a table and hanging from the edge of the tent by strings were all manner of toy animals. Horses, tigers, fish, and others, all brightly coloured and made from soft fabric. A happy smile spread across his face as he turned them over in his hand one by one. “Oh, this is it. This is the one.” He held up a stuffed rabbit. Its ears were long and floppy, and its brightly striped body was soft and plush. “Ah yes, you like?” asked the eager shopkeeper. She smiled broadly, exposing all six of her teeth. “Yes, this will do nicely! How much?” The woman took the rabbit and turned it over in her hands. “For you, three piastres. A bargain!” “Three?!” said an astonished Jack. “I can have a feast for myself and my wife for that. One.” The woman looked at the rabbit and shook her head. “And you would have made his little girl so happy,” she said to it sadly. “How do you know it I have a daughter? I could be buying that for a favourite niece for all you know.” “I've been doing this for a very long time, senhor. Men with baby girls buy horses and rabbits. And their eyes light up just like yours. I can tell you love your daughter very much. So one piastre is too little for my toys.” Jack looked skyward and sighed. “All right. You've bested me.” He pulled a coin from his pocket and flipped it at the woman. She caught it in mid air and examined it, and the rabbit tumbled across the table to land near Jack's hand. “A Dutch guilder! Senhor, this is too much!” “No, it's worth every penny for the smiles it will put on little girl's face,” said Jack as he picked up the rabbit and stuffed it in his pocket. The woman grinned happily. “I close early today! Bless you, senhor!” Jack tipped his battered tricorn, and spun on his heel to continue his search for Honour.

When Honour woke up the next morning, she vaguely remembered Jack kissing her and saying something about coordinates, the Azores, and the quarterdeck. She stretched her arms over her head, yawning. Sliding out of bed, she dressed in a blouse and skirt. Carefully she went through her recent purchases until she found what she was looking for. Honour made her way to the deck. There was Eli Meredith, busy making a knot in the rope that was coiled. "Eli? May I see you a minute?" Eli scrambled to his feet. "Good morning, Mrs. Wolfe." "Please--call me Honour, Eli. I am only a couple years older than you are. Calling me Mrs. Wolfe makes me feel like I am your best friend's mother!" He gave her a warm smile, feeling he had been accepted by the captain's wife. She poured a cup of coffee and added a splash of brandy that Jack had kept hidden behind the binnacle. She reached over and added a bit to the cup that Eli had been drinking. "I want to thank you, Eli, for staying with the crew." "It's my pleasure, Mrs....Honour. And I owe you a debt of gratitude for intervening between the captain and myself." "It is I who can't thank you enough, Eli. Whether you know it or not, you saved my life when Burgess was in my room. If the mutiny had been a success, it would be Captain Burgess. Captain Wolfe and Briggs would be murdered and I have no doubt that I would be put to death before long." Eli looked down. "I am so sorry." She gave Eli's arm a squeeze. "I also want to thank you for one other thing, Eli. This may sound strange, though." "What is it, Honour?" "If it weren't for the mutiny, Jack and I may never have found our way back to each other." "I don't understand, Honour." She explained, "When I came back to my room after pleading your case to Jack, you had fallen asleep. I hadn't the heart to wake you. But I realized this. That Mad Jack Wolfe did have a heart and compassion. And it was a trait I thought he didn't have. We decided we are going to try again. And, Eli, we owe it to you." His face blushed with undisguised pleasure. Eli had felt that he had redeemed himself fully for the part he played in the mutiny. Honour didn't tell Eli that because he fell asleep in her bed, she ended up in the cabin and in Jack's bed. How right it felt and how much she missed waking up in his arms. He impulsively took her hand. "I am so happy, Honour. At least something good came out of it." She reached behind the binnacle again and took a package wrapped in oil cloth. "Eli, this is for you." His mouth dropped and the look of astonishment on his face was a sight to behold. Carefully he unwrapped it and his breath caught. "Oh, Lord!" The French rapier gleamed in the sunlight, almost as if it were glowing. He tenderly caressed the blade and his fingers crossed the engraving. "E. M.--you even had it engraved!" His eyes shone with pride. The sight of his joy brought unbidden tears to Honour's eyes. Impulsively he hugged her and then realized he touched his captain's wife. He looked over and saw Jack standing over by the gunwale, watching. "I--I'm sorry, Captain, Sir." Jack affected a stern look but the corners of his mouth were turned up in mirth. "I'll forgive you this once, boy. Although I can't say I blame you." Then his face broke out in a grin. Eli nodded, smiled shyly and walked off, carefully holding the rapier. Jack put his arm around Honour. "How many times have I told you about rapiers not being any good for fighting aboard a ship?" She leaned against him. "I know. But he needed something to make himself feel special. You can't buy loyalty like that, my darling." He kissed her and said, "Have I told you lately how much I love you?" She sighed happily and said, "Yes. But I never tire of hearing it!"

Honour arrived back at the docks with her packages and Eli's sword just before three o'clock as she'd promised Jack. A small group of men were gathered at the entrance of the dock where El Lobo was berthed. From the looks of them, they were unhappy and drunk. It wasn't the first time she'd had to make her way past drunken sailors. She considered them to be like snakes. If you ignore them, usually they will do the same to you. As she drew closer, she could overhear their conversation. "Damn that Wolfe, anyways! We had us a good thing goin', too." "Yeah, until that woman showed up again!" "Nothin' but trouble, she is! Turned him all 'round. Made him soft!" "Soft in the head is more like it! I'm thinkin' Burgess was right. Shame what happened to him. We coulda had a bit of fun with that tart, too, once Wolfe was outta the way!" "Oi! Speakin' of the little minx, there she be!" Honour's face flushed red when she heard the men talk. She was angry that they would insult her husband's name so, and sickened by their insinuations. It took all her strength to keep from confronting them. But she bit her lip and pulled her packages close as she hurried past. The fact that she carried the sword made it easier to ignore their laughter and the lewd kissing sounds one of them made once she was by them. She gave thanks as she walked with determination toward the safety of the ship that those horrid men were no longer part of the crew. What they thought didn't matter. She and her husband were going to retrieve their precious little girl. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Jack, I just don't know what to make out of all this." She sat on the bed, her dressing gown wrapped around her, a satin ribbon tying her hair back. Jack looked at her, his mind still trying to wrap around the notion that less than two weeks ago, he had found his wife crawling on her hands and knees in the Bilge Pump Pub, trying to escape without him noticing her. It was only the dragging of her skirt that caught his attention. As she was about to cross the threshold and escape to freedom, he had recognized the curve of her bottom and had caught her by the ankles, dragging her back into the tavern and yanking her to her feet. He found himself face to face with the one he had been searching the Caribbean for over the last eighteen months. What had started out as a forced kidnapping became a willing reconciliation. Honour had given herself freely and willingly and had also given him the greatest gift she could. A child and the promise of a family. While he didn't agree with the way she left, he now understood why she did what she did. Cade's figuring into the equation, however, was inexcusable. "Jack, did you hear me?" He looked at what she had spread all over the bed, the look of puzzlement on her face. He crossed over and sat on the bed next to her. "Having a problem, are we?" "Yes. I can't figure out what all these books are about." She sighed. "Was it all for naught? He brushed her hair back. "No, Honour. The journal and the secrets of the chest led you back to me." She smiled broadly. "Yes, it did. And I realized that I was on a journey and you are the journey's end." She opened one of the books and said with exapsertaion, "Look here! All I see are squiggly lines and symbols that make no sense." "Just as they would no doubt view our written language." "But there has to be a key to translating them. Maybe one of them is a primer for learning their language?" Jack took the ribbon from her hair and gave it a gentle tug. Softly he said, "Does it really matter, Honour? I found the treasure I was looking for the last eighteen months. All my life, really." As he kissed her and gently pushed her back on the pillows, she whispered, "I love you, Jack." He pulled back and said, "What did you say?" He looked at her with a tenderness in his eyes she had never seen before, even when they were in Castara. "I said, 'I love you.' Good Lord, it is like a catharsis for me to finally be able to say that again!" "Again? And who have you said that to before, my dear? Cade Jennings?" Rhys Morgan's face came unbidden to her memory. But for once she didn't feel any sense of betrayal. Rhys was the past. Jack was her future. "No, my love. I never told Cade that I loved him. I don't think he really loved me either." "And I had no idea that Cade hated me so much." "He didn't hate you, Jack. He admired you. He wanted to be just like you. And he learned well. That was why he bought the Gryphon." She put her arms around Jack and drew him to her. "But let's not speak of him. This is our time to reconcile."

The crew assembled on the main deck at the end of the forenoon watch as was their tradition on the first day in port. That was when the captain would address the men a timetable for their say and any relevant news. The usual boisterous mood of the crew was replaced by an unsettling quiet on this occasion, however. Rumours of Jack's intent to turn the ship toward Wales and the Continent had somehow found its way through the ranks. Most of the men were indifferent. Some were actually relieved, as the voyage would put comfortable distance between themselves and a noose on some island. And then there was the very vocal minority who were resentful. Theses were men who had fled from justice in the Commonwealth to continue their lawless existence in the Caribbean. Jack Wolfe's El Lobo was the gravy train upon which they had ridden. Now they were at the end of the line. Jack wasn't the only one they were upset with. Fortunately, she was already off the ship. Briggs was there was well, seated at a small desk to one side of the gangway. On the desk were a quill and ship's roster. A closed chest sat on the deck beside him. The quartermaster's typically somber expression was on this day downright dour. Jack paused as he stepped onto the deck. All conversation came to an abrupt halt as the crew turned their attention to him. It took only moments for Jack to gage their mood. He knew he was turning their lives upside down, but whatever sympathy he felt wasn't about to sway his decision. He squared his shoulders and walked over to where his trusted friend sat. The murmur of the assembly began again, though more subdued. "Morning, Josiah." "Mornin', Jack." No warmth, no daily complaints. Nothing to give Jack an idea of what the gruff man had decided. Briggs could be maddeningly tight-lipped when he got the notion to be. This was one of those times. "I see you have things ready to pay off anyone who chooses not to stay," Jack continued, his voice hushed. "Aye," answered Briggs with a sigh. "I'm hopin' it's enough to cover 'em all." So was Jack. "It won't be as bad as all that, Josiah," he said, as much to convince himself as it was meant for Briggs. Briggs gave a skeptical grunt. "You're the cap'n. You got a good speech, I hope? One mutiny is enough for my tastes." "I'm feeling inspired today," smiled Jack. When in doubt, fake confidence. He turned to make his way to the quarterdeck when he spotted a tense Eli standing on the fringes. "Ah! Mister Meredith! A word with you!" Eli pulled the tattered woolen cap off his head and wrung it in his hands as he approached Jack. He knew he was walking a fine line with his captain after the mutiny, and he feared the worst in being singled out. "Aye, cap'n?" he asked quietly. Jack smiled in hopes of putting the young man at ease. "Meredith... I mean, Eli, I have a job for you, if you're up to it." The sailor perked up. "Aye, sir! Name it!" "Since I can count on you being one to stay on," said Jack, "I want you to assist Master Briggs in taking care of the men who decide to part company. You think you're up to it, lad?" A broad smile broke out on Eli's face. "Yessir! You can count on me!" "Now wait one damned minute," protested Briggs. "Ye can't be serious! This mutinous pup..." "This young man helped foil the mutiny, if you'll remember," countered Jack. "If it weren't for him, Honour might well be dead. That more than warrants a second chance in my book." Briggs gave Jack a long, unhappy look, then sat back in his chair. "Meredith! Get yer skinny arse over here. Lemme tell ye how this works." Eli gave Jack an expectant look, and scurried off when Jack nodded his head in Briggs' direction. The men had left an avenue along the gunwale for Jack to approach the quarterdeck. He felt incredibly uncomfortable knowing that all eyes were upon him. For every ounce of pride he felt for being a ship's master and commander, he felt an equal amount of stage fright. Honour had made certain he was dressed the part of pirate captain. He sported his nicest frock coat, and two of his finest pistols were shoved into his belt, including the one he had personally taken off Diego Mendoza. "Dress to impress, in all things," she had advised. Jack took heart in her words of encouragement as he stepped to the taffrail. "Gentlemen! And I use the term ever so loosely." The usual titter of laughter rippled through the men. "No doubt word of my intentions has reached your ears..." he began. "Gone soft, ye have! All for the love of a doxy!" a man cried. Jack felt his blood begin to boil, but he kept his head. "You know, mate, ordinarily I'd be upset by your claptrap. But since you've gone out of your way to show everyone what an ignorant git you really are, I'll forego humiliating you further." A derisive laugh worked its way through the men. "As I was saying," continued Jack, "what you've heard is indeed true. Effective immediately, this ship is retired from the Account. El Lobo Del Mar is now a peaceful vessel. Come Monday, we will be headed for Wales." He paused to let the news sink in. "Those of you who wish to stay on shall be ensured a fair salary. Those who wish to seek their own fortunes may see Master Briggs. You'll receive a fair recompense, and your name will be stricken from the roster." A dissenting cry swelled within the crew. The vocal minority were going to have their say. But before they could gain a unified voice, a shot rang out behind the throng. Eli Meredith stood with his smoking pistol held above his head. "Listen to what the cap'n has to say! It's a fair offer!" he exclaimed, though his voice betrayed a waver of fear. "Those what protest, take your money! Good riddance to ye! The rest, we're going to Wales!" The men looked at the scrawny man for a few moments, then turned their attention back to Jack. "Thank you, Mister Meredith," said Jack, with a bemused smile. The young man was proving to be full of surprises. "Now that I have your attention once again, the usual rules apply. You're to be aboard and ready to sail Monday morning. No exceptions. If you land in gaol or get yourself killed, or simply oversleep in the tavern or some strumpet's arms, know that it has been a pleasure working with you. Your effects will be auctioned before the mast. Now, go enjoy yourselves. Those wanting to part company, Mister Briggs will see to you now." He watched as the majority of men shuffled off the ship and down the docks into town. Several stayed behind to take their money and leave the crew. "Make your mark here beside your name," said Briggs, and he took a sack coins from Eli and handed it to each man in turn. "Ye can take your effects with ye now, or collect them off the dock Monday morn. Matters not a whit to me," he explained to them. "An' what about you, Briggs? You can't be no happier with this than the rest of us," asked the last crewman to take his money. Briggs gave Eli a sidelong glance, then looked back to the man. "That's between me and the cap'n. Same as always." The man shrugged and hefted the sack of coins. He intentionally jostled Eli with his shoulder on his way to gangplank. Eli got a fighting look on his face, which quickly faded when he heard Briggs laugh. "Easy there, tough man! That bloke would have ye for breakfast and still be in want of a meal." Jack walked up the the desk and examined the roster. "Sixteen men in all. Better than I expected." He read over the list, and gave his friend a puzzled look. "I don't see your name crossed off. Does that mean you're staying, or still thinking?" Briggs leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "And trust ye to get this ship all the way to Wales on your own? Ye'll be too busy thinkin' about that little girl of your'n to keep a steady course! And I can't exactly see myself deprivin' the wee angel of knowin' her Uncle Josiah." Jack smiled with satisfaction. "I'm glad you're staying, Josiah. El Lobo wouldn't be the same without you." "Nay, this ship would still be the same. You'd be more out of control, if that be possible. Somebody has to ride herd on ye. I've got the most experience." He looked at the roster again and sighed. "At least it wasn't as bad as what I'd planned for..." "But Master Briggs," interrupted Eli, "you only had eighteen bags in the chest." "Have ye ever been told ye've got a big mouth, boy?" grumbled Briggs as he avoided looking at the smirk on Jack's face. "Still, that's sixteen warm bodies I need to find before Monday. Not gonna be easy in this backwater port." "A monumental task, I'm sure," teased Jack. "But one you're no doubt equal to, my friend." Briggs gave a faint smile and nodded before turning his attention to Eli. "Well, what are ye standin' about lollygaggin' for? Stow that chest! We've got recruitin' to do."

Jack shook his head and laughed. “That was one of the first thoughts to cross my mind!” He finished off his brandy and offered his glass for a refill. “God, Duckie, why can't Briggs have taken the news as well as you have?” “I suppose I haven't gotten all the information he did. All you've told me are the happy parts. What haven't you told me, Jack? You always have a hidden card.” “We're going to Wales, to fetch Zara.” “Ohhh,” said Duckie thoughtfully. “That's a month's journey, including a layover at the Azores, isn't it? And not a bit of pirating to be had whilst Honour is aboard. Certainly none with the wee bairn in our midst. How did you expect him to feel, Jack?” “He's threatened to leave the ship.” “Piracy is the only way of life he knows. You just took that away from him. Briggs has been the epitome of the loyal soldier. But if you're leaving the Account, as I pray to God you are, what's left for him? The sea is the only constant lover he's known since Annie died.” “That's why I thought he'd be happy, Drake. He knows what it means to be a father.” Duckie shook his head. “The news did more to reopen old wounds than you realise, I'm afraid. Phillip disavowed Josiah when he learned his father was a pirate, not a merchant sailor. Remember?” “I didn't even stop to think,” said Jack. “Getting anywhere near England would be painful for him, now that you mention it.” “Everyone sees Josiah as a rock. It's easy to forget that he has his own feelings, and his own ghosts. Give him time, Jack. He may come around yet. Christ, I need time to deal with being an uncle to your daughter! By the way, who is taking care of the little angel?” “Honour's sister, Megan. She and her husband Daffyd. Good lord, Duckie. If you think it's a stretch coming to grips with being an uncle, try getting your head around being a father!” It was Duckie's turn to stare at his glass. “If Ellen had stayed around, I might well be on the other side of this conversation.” “Oh, damn. I'm sorry,” said Jack. Duckie waved his hand. “No, don't worry about it. It was years ago. She was right to leave. My place is here, and we both knew it.” “It seems my happiness is once again the source of pain for others.” “Oh, stop it!” admonished Duckie. “Allow yourself to be happy for a change. You have to concentrate on yourself and what's right for your family now. Wales is beautiful this time of year. Actually, Wales is beautiful any time of year. Even more so now that we're going to retrieve my niece!” “Do you really think Briggs will come around?” “Worry, worry, worry!” Duckie laughed. “He's probably more frightened of being beaten over the head with a belaying pin by a toddler. He'll come round, Jack. Give him time to digest the news. Being an uncle to your daughter... that should give any man pause! Now go. Go and attend to your beautiful wife.” Duckie stole Jack's glass away and hustled him out of the surgery. “Thanks, Ducks. You're a good friend,” said Jack. “Pish. Knowing you two, this ship will be a floating nursery. My only wish is that I get to deliver the next one. Or ones!” Duckie closed the door and went back to his brandy. “I'm an uncle! To no doubt the most headstrong little girl the world has ever seen. This will be such fun! Now, how terribly will I be able to spoil her...?” He sat at his desk and took up his quill once more, but found himself too excited to concentrate. Knowing that Jack and Honour were together again, and that they had a daughter, gave him more joy than he could have imagined. Duckie had held a guarded hope that they would reconcile ever since he found out Honour was aboard. Now the world felt a little brighter. The thought of returning to England brought its own sense of happiness. He hadn't been home to see his family in over five years. He took a sip of brandy and began rummaging through the cubbyholes of his desk. Finally, he found what he was looking for. A bittersweet letter he had received a year before from his sister Rose, informing him of the passing of her husband Edwin Carlisle, the Earl of Shrewsbury. How would she react to the news that not only was her former flame Jack Wolfe a husband, but a father was well?

Duckie had just dipped his quill to begin the day's journal entry when a soft rap came at the surgery door. With a sigh he pushed back from his desk and opened the door. “Jack! So good to see you. How's Honour?” “She's well. Still sleeping. We had a... productive evening.” “Well, don't just stand there bobbing on the doorstep!” chided the doctor. “Come in and tell me all about it! The polite parts, mind you. By your smile I can tell how the rest of it went. Here, pull up that chair. Brandy?” Jack laughed. “When the news is good, the bar opens?” “Because when the news isn't good, you mope too much. I won't pour good liquor on a bad attitude.” He handed a glass to Jack. “Here. Now spill it! I'm dying to hear.” “First off, she's staying. She's really staying, Duckie,” Jack grinned. “We're making a fresh start of it.” “Thank God!!” Duckie elated. “It's about bloody time! I've been waiting for you two to figure out you're meant for one another! So tell me, what was the turning point?” Jack sipped his brandy and thought a moment. “I'm not quite sure. Maybe it was the mutiny where both our lives were in danger, or on the island when she saved my life once again. Maybe a combination? Either way, I'm grateful.” “You both needed a sharp rap on the head to realise how much you need each other, and you got it. I'm happy for you, Jack. She completes you.” “More than you know, Ducks. There's even more good news.” “Really? Well, tell me, man! Keeping it to yourself is not fair.” Jack looked at his friend with a sense of pride Duckie had never seen in his eyes before. “Drake, I have a child.” Duckie's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. In a flash, he sat his drink down and slammed the surgery door. “Good God! Does Honour know?” Jack looked up at the ceiling in exasperation. “Why does everyone react this way?” “Because you're a two-legged tomcat?” Duckie offered. “Duckie, Honour is the mother! We have a child together!” Duckie blinked, then downed his brandy in one gulp. “I'll wait while you pour another,” sighed Jack. His glass full once again, Duckie found his voice. “Jack, please, don't get me wrong. I'm happy for you! I'm just...” “Shocked?” “That's scratching the surface, yes.” “Imagine how I felt.” Duckie rubbed his chin. “Of course! She was so tired during the crossing from Tobago, and I wrote off her getting violently ill after saving your life on shock. Damn, how could I have missed it? It makes sense, since you two were going at it like rabbits...” “Is that your clinical analysis, good physician? Rabbits?” “I'm sorry!” Duckie laughed. “Honestly, Jack, I've never seen a man so enamoured of his wife in all my days. That's why I was so taken aback by your actions after the Mendoza engagement. So was she.” Jack stared at his glass, as if searching for a good answer. “My ego got the better of me. The ship was a floating wreck, and I was no better...” “Rubbish. You were fine, Jack. I remember how you were when we rescued you from Mendoza's prison. You were a shell, barely alive. I swear you died twice on my table. So don't tell me getting shot was worse. You were mourning your ship, and your image.” A bitter laugh escaped Jack's lips. “You have an annoying habit of getting to the truth of things.” “Suck it up, Jack. You were a fool to run her off the way you did. It's a wonder I stayed on with you after that.” “As I recall, Doctor, you didn't. We parted company for nearly a year.” “Because you were an idiot. I almost didn't forgive you for the way you treated her.” “And yet, you did.” “Don't push it. Escaping your orbit is a difficult thing. Honour is the best thing that's ever happened to you, Jack. I'm glad you've finally woken up to the fact.” He took a sip of brandy. “Ye gods! A baby! You're a father now! I'll bet he's a real scrapper!” “She.” Duckie froze. “Beg pardon?” Jack laughed. “Duckie, I have a daughter. A beautiful little girl named Zara. Zara Wolfe.” “Oh my god,” said Duckie as he rubbed his forehead. “That has to feel like a reversal of fortunes for you, then.” “How so?” Duckie laughed. “Because, my lusty friend; eventually, you're going to have to protect her from men like you!”

Briggs lit his pipe and watched as a pair of playful dolphins frolicked in the ship's wake with the morning sun glistening off their sleek bodies. The sound of boots on the deck behind him made him turn to find Jack wearing a positively blissful grin. “Good morning, Josiah! And how are we this fine morning?” Briggs cocked an eyebrow. “We are doin' fine. You look like ye're over the moon. I take it that since we didn't see hide nor hair of ye or the missus last night, your discussion went well?” “Better than well,” replied Jack. “We cleared the air about a great many things. And we arrived at some important decisions.” “One of which bein' that she's stayin' on, yeah?” Jack's grin got bigger, if that was possible. “It's that obvious?” “If she weren't, I'd have heard ye before I seen ye. We all would have. A man like you don't pine for a woman like her and take rejection easy.” “I do wish you'd learn to speak your mind, Josiah. Being cryptic doesn't suit you. I know you don't care for her.” Briggs chuckled and leaned on the gunwale. “I like Honour just fine, Jack. She's a fine woman, and I know she makes ye happy. But I'll admit I like her best when she ain't got ye all turned around and inside out.” He sighed and looked thoughtfully at his pipe before poking it back in his mouth. “I sure hope ye know what ye're doin'.” “You think she'll run off again, don't you?” “Don't matter much what I think. There ain't a hope of swayin' ye with sense and facts on this one, I can tell.” Jack leaned on the gunwale beside his friend. “I realise now she had every reason to leave, and I was the one who gave her those reasons. But it turns out that there is one very important reason to put all that behind us.” Briggs rolled his eyes. “Let me guess. True love?” “All right, make that two reasons,” Jack laughed. He turned to look at the quartermaster. “Josiah, I have a child.” Briggs' mouth dropped open when Jack delivered the happy news, and his pipe went tumbling into the sea. Immediately he began choking on the smoke he'd inhaled. “Hang me for a lubberly Dutchman!” he gasped. Dropping his voice to a quiet rasp, he asked, “How is that good? I mean, what if Honour finds out?!” Jack screwed his eyes shut in exasperation. “Josiah, the child IS mine and Honour's!” Briggs lurched over to the binnacle and retrieved the bottle of rum. He took three or four full swallows before looking back at Jack. “Tell me ye're havin' me on!” Jack shook his head. “I'm not. Believe me, I was surprised too. But it's wonderful, Josiah! Honour says she's a beautiful little girl...” The bottle was back at Briggs' lips, and he downed a few more swallows. “Honestly, Josiah. I thought you'd be happy for us,” said Jack, clearly becoming annoyed at Briggs' carrying on. “Just tryin' to get used to the idea of you bein' a pappy,” answered Briggs. “Of a girl? That one I can't say as I'll ever get used to.” He started to bring the bottle up again when Jack snatched it out of his hand, corked it, and put it back in the binnacle with a slam. Still wearing an incredulous look on his face, Briggs asked, “I guess we'll be makin' for Barbados and home, then?” “Actually, we have another stop before we make anchor at Bridgetown again.” “Where? Martinique? St. Kitts?” Jack shook his head. “Further north.” “Anguilla? We had us a hell of a good time there...” “Wales.” Briggs' eyes grew wide, and he went for the binnacle again. The sound of Jack clearing his throat stopped him cold. “Why the devil are we goin' there of all places?!” he fumed. “To fetch little Zara, and bring her back to Barbados. Honour's sister is taking care of her until we arrive.” Jack looked out over the ocean. “I can hardly believe, Josiah. I'm a father! A family man!” Briggs turned his attention to the men on the deck below them. “'Zara'. Honour picked a right pretty name for the wee one. Aye, that ye have a family now a fine thing, I suppose,” he said solemnly as he reached for his pipe, then remembered it was well on its way to the Locker. “But what plans have ye for this family, Jack? Your crew? Given them any thought? With Honour aboard, I know there'll be not a bit of piratin'. With a baby to boot?” He turned and looked at his friend. “Your days on the Account are over, aren't they?” Jack gave a heavy sigh. “When we make port in Glenlivet, we'll give the men a choice of staying on as salaried crew, or they may part company with some extra coins in their pocket. I know many of them have no desire to venture anywhere near the Commonwealth again. And many don't dare.” “Ye know ye'll be lucky to keep half of 'em. A fair number of skilled men are goin' to walk off this ship and ne'er look back,” warned Briggs. “I know, Josiah. But this is how it has to be. Honour has been in enough danger because of me. No more. I'll move heaven and earth to keep her and Zara safe.” “Is that offer bein' extended to the entire crew, as per the Articles?” “Of course it-- Josiah, no. Please don't do this.” The quartermaster gave his captain a weary look. “You're lookin' out for what's right by you, Jack. I hope ye don't expect me to do different. You're the master of this ship, and thy will be done. But as a man I admire greatly once said, I need to know my options.” He paused for a moment, but Jack was too stunned to speak. Over the years, Briggs had followed his friend's wild hunches and crazy schemes with little question. This time he wasn't so sure he could go along. Change was one thing Briggs did not take well. What Jack had told him amounted to a new way of life. After several long, uncomfortable moments, he quietly said, “I'll be with the men should ye need me. Don't ye worry none. I won't say a word about your plans until we're in port and safely docked. One mutiny this week is enough.” With that, Briggs left the quarterdeck and began inspecting the work of the crew as they went about their duties. The words of his long time friend and confidant left Jack stinging. He had always been able to rely on Briggs' full support, however reluctantly given. What he never anticipated was outright opposition. The ship's articles were clear on the matter. When in port, any man may leave the ship to seek his own fortunes once any outstanding debts to the Company were settled. Usually that was sufficient to keep the average tar aboard. Sailors were notorious for being perpetually broke and in debt. Jack's plan was to soften the surprise change in plans by offering a small quantity of gold to any man who chose to leave. That would make the squaring of debts easier for everyone. While he wanted to keep as many experienced men as possible, those who stayed reluctantly were of little use to him. Jack needed a crew he could trust, as much as anyone could trust a collection of pirates. He was gambling his family's future on his ability to inspire loyalty in cutthroats and criminals. Once again, what Jack called a plan would be called insanity by anyone else. Jack could see Briggs' point of view, however reluctantly. While it was a personal decision for him, it affected the lives of everyone aboard. But Jack's concern wasn't about maintaining the cohesive crew of a pirate ship. His focus was getting himself and his bride to Wales as swiftly as possible. Nothing would sway him from that goal. There was far too much at stake. He did his best to shake off Briggs' chilly reaction to the news about Zara. There was one person who he was certain would be happy for him and Honour.

"Well, it's about time ye made it back here, Jack! I was about to send a search party out for ye two!" Briggs extended his hand out to Jack. As he swung his leg over, he clapped Briggs on the back. "Damn, it's good to have the wood of the deck under my feet again!" "Ahem!" came a familiar voice from the ladder. "I seem to have forgotten the anchor and chain!" chuckled Jack with a wink to Briggs. "Oi! I heard that!" the voice responded from the other side of the gunwale. Jack leaned over and laughed, "Oi! I meant for you to hear that!" Briggs could scarcely contain himself. "So... did ye find it?" Jack played innocent. "Find what?" "You know... what was inside!" Honour's head popped up by the gunwale. "Do you intend, Jack Wolfe, to set sail with me hanging onto the side for dear life?" "No, love. Although you would make a fine masthead, I'd hate to have to scrape the waterbugs out of your hair!" He reached over and took both of her hands. Honour threw her legs over the gunwale and hopped onto the deck. She gave Briggs a warm smile. "So nice to see you, Josiah!" He grinned, "And ye as well, Honour!" She dusted off her clothes and said, "The one thing I really want is a hot bath!" She headed towards Jack's quarters. Briggs said quizzically, "Um... ain't yer quarters over that way?" She winked at Jack and said, "Aye. That they are, Master Briggs!" She proceeded on towards the great cabin, closing the door behind her. Briggs whirled towards Jack. "Ah.... ye... and Honour... are... um..." “Assuming there is a question lurking beneath your suddenly atrocious grammar,” said Jack as he lit his pipe, "we've come to a mutual accord, Josiah." "Meaning.....?" "She knows where I keep the hot water!" Briggs sighed and raised an eyebrow. "I suppose it was inevitable. But on to business. Are ye going to tell me, or not?" "I suppose I shall have to quit toying with you, but not quite yet. We did have unexpected company though. As long as Honour is submerging herself and there are parts of her I don't want you to see, let's go down to her quarters and I'll fill you in on what we found. And who." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Briggs and Jack settled back with a brandy, Jack indulging in the pipeweed he knew Honour hated. "So... tell me! What did ye find?" Jack opened the haversack and carefully stacked handfuls of the precious books upon the table. "That's it? THAT'S IT? I’ve seen ye risk yer neck over many an odd thing, but BOOKS?!" Jack grinned, "There were a few things that caught my eye, now you mention it..." He took out one of the statues and set it on the table. Briggs let out a low whistle. "Jack... any idea what it is?" Jack put his feet up on the desk and folded his arms across his chest. "LaFourche mentioned additional keys. I believe this is one of them. The chest was way of securing them and transporting them. And these--" he patted one of the stacks of books "----may be the instruction manual on how to use them. Another puzzle, another set of secrets to unravel. Just think, Josiah; if these are keys, what do you supposed the treasure they unlock might look like?" Just then Honour came in, dressed in fresh clothes, her wet hair hanging down her back. "Please, go on with whatever you were discussing, which I am sure was our discovery. I just came in to get a few things." She opened her chest drawers, humming a tune. She took a few chemises and a few of her cosmetics, then left the room. Briggs raised his eyebrow and Jack gave him a smile. "We're working on our accord." "Before I tell you the whole story, let me get Duckie. I got bit by a snake and this way I don't have to repeat the story twice and it will be easier...." The door opened again, and this time she ship’s doctor came strolling through. "There you are! Davis told me you were back. I was taking stock of the drug inventory." Jack held out his hand "Just the man I want to see! Duckie, take a look at this, will you?" Duckie looked and said, "That's your hand. So what?" "Any sign of poison of a snakebite?" "Snakebite! What the hell were you two up to? I would have expected it to be on your rump!" Jack laughed and said, "Honour once again saved my life. For some reason, she knew which herbs to use to draw the poison out. And as long as I have the medical go-ahead, pour yourself a brandy. I am about ready to tell Briggs the story of the last few days!" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "..and that is the whole story." Duckie poured himself another brandy. "Why am I not surprised by all this? Jack, I swear, you and Puddin' have nine lives. By rights, you should have been dead long ago!" Briggs shook his head. "Bonita. Thought that witch-woman would still be in Castara. Claiming to be one o' the Ancients? I never heard such bilge." Jack shrugged. "Funny thing, Josiah, is that I can’t completely discount her claim. It's too preposterous not to be completely false. She certainly believes it." He finished his drink and said, "Look at the time. Gentlemen! I declare this meeting over. The cook is having a dinner sent to my quarters. Mrs. Wolfe and I have some discussing to do." As Jack left the cabin, Briggs turned to Duckie and said, "Don't like the sound of that discussin', Duckie." Duckie poured another brandy and said, "If they are quiet, you won't have to hear it, Josiah!"

After a breakfast of the last of their provisions and assorted fruits Honour had harvested, the couple resumed their trek back to the beach where they had landed. Jack had made such a comic production of eating a pomegranate that she still wasn't sure whether to laugh or blush. It made her happy to see him so light hearted. She had rediscovered the Jack Wolfe she had fallen in love with. Still, Honour was worried how he would react to the news about Zara. Would he be happy they had a child, that he was the father of a beautiful baby girl? Would he even want to be part of Zara's life? Would the thought of having the real responsibility of a child change his mind about starting over with Honour? Or would he be angry about being kept in the dark this whole time? After all, if things had gone as planned in Glenlivet, she wouldn't have had to deal with telling Jack anything at all. But life seldom cooperates with one's plans. As she mulled the possibilities over in her mind, another came to the fore. A small yet insidious voice within her said 'So don't tell him. Play it safe. Go back to Glenlivet and hire passage to Wales. He doesn't need to know. Why risk it?' She recognised that voice immediately. It was the horrid little voice that had piped up at every major juncture of her life with the same message: 'Run!' Honour shook her head to clear her thoughts. If there was anything she was tired of, it was running. She looked over to find Jack smiling at her. “You're a million miles away again, love. A guilder for your thoughts?” he said with a wink. “A guilder! My, what a high price you put on my daydreams!” “I'm a pirate, darling. Bribing my way in is what I do.” “So that's how it's done? Not charging in, guns blazing?” “That tactic is for amateurs. It's good for the first few times, but it's easy to counter once they suss out your game. No, I rather prefer the subtle approach these days. More sincere, and certainly more satisfying.” Honour turned her face away to hide the blush that came to her cheeks. “You needn't bribe me, Jack. But what happened to the unpredictable ways that made you a legend?” “Oh, don't worry my pet. They're still alive and well.” He tossed his sword that he had been using as a machete over his shoulder. Honour turned to watch it arc though the air and spear the ground behind them. Before she knew what was happening, Jack swept her up in his arms and gave her a deep, loving kiss. “Unpredictable enough for you? I have plenty more where that came from,” he said with a saucy smile. She looked back at him, her eyes still wide in surprise. “I can see that! Forgive me. I should have known you still have plenty of tricks up your sleeve!” Jack set her gently back on her feet. “Didn't want you thinking I'd gone soft. Just wizened.” “After last night, I'm the last to suggest you've gone soft, my husband,” she said demurely. It was Jack's turn to give a shocked look. “My dear, I think you made me blush!” Honour plucked his sword from the ground and, with a twirl, presented the weapon to him. “I believe this is yours? You should take better care where it's displayed. I should hate to think of just anyone coming around to fondle it.” He accepted the sword from her. “I'll take that under advisement. You're the only one allowed that close to my blade, I'll have you know.” “See that it stays that way, mon capitan,” she said with a flirtatious glance. Jack had kept his sword drawn more out of habit than need. The path was still clear enough, even after the storm. He sheathed the cutlass as they continued on, all the while keeping his eyes on his bride. Even in such a harsh jungle, she cut an elegant figure. It was so easy for him to fall in love with her all over again with the changing of the day's light. But uncertainty nagged at him. Why was she so reluctant to talk about staying with him? He had laid his soul bare to her, and as usual, Honour had played her cards close to the vest. What was she hiding? Was there someone else? His stomach tied itself into a knot thinking that Cade Jennings might be out there waiting for her. If there was one person Jack wanted to exact retribution from, it was that treacherous whelp he had so foolishly trusted like his own son. He remembered how Cade looked at Honour, and he had always resented it. Yes, Honour had told him that there was nothing between the two of them, but he couldn't shake the suspicion no matter how hard he tried. If she evaded his questions once they were back aboard El Lobo, he would have his answer. Suddenly, Honour took off at a run. “Jack, the beach! Here it is! And the boat made it though the storm! We can go home now!” Home. What a wonderful word to come from her lips!

Honour lay in Jack's arms with her head resting on his chest. She could hear his heart beating, it's pace still quickened from the passion they had just shared. A contented smile played upon her lips as she made lazy circles on his stomach with her fingertip. She could feel Jack gently run his fingers through her hair, then caress her shoulder. The peaceful murmur of the jungle enveloped the lovers, adding to their bliss. “Do you hear that?” he asked softly. She lifted her head and looked up at him. “No. It's not an animal, is it?” “No. It's just so peaceful. Do you realize this is the first time we've made love and not been within a stone's throw of another person?” She smiled and snuggled up against him. “Now that you mention it, I do enjoy not hearing footsteps above us.” “Or having to be quiet? Honour looked up at him again and gave a shocked look, then playfully slapped his belly. “You are a devil, Jack! You'll make me blush.” He moved his face close to hers. “Isn't that part of it, my love? To make you glow?” Their lips met in a tenderly passionate kiss. She sighed and put her head back on his chest. “Your kisses alone can do that, my husband.” “Don't think you'll get away that easy, darling. Not while I draw a breath!” “Good!” she giggled. Jack stroked her silken hair again. “Um, any regrets?” he asked. Honour couldn't help but hear the mixture of hope and dread in his voice. “About...?” “About this. Us.” “Why would I regret something that I freely wanted?” she answered gently. “Something we both wanted?” Another giggle escaped her lips. “And something you obviously still want! You won't let a girl rest, will you?” “Shades of our wedding night, eh?” “And the next day, and the next, and the next,” she laughed. Jack had always found Honour's laughter infectious, and this time was no different. “We made a bit of history together, didn't we? But I can't help but wonder what the next day will bring this time?” “I'm pretty sure you're thinking about something else,” she teased. He gently caressed her neck, and she breathed in deeply at his touch. Then, without warning, he quickly moved his hand down her body and began tickling her ribs. Honour yelped and attempted to mount a counter attack. Before long, the lovers where back in each other's arms, laughing like youngsters. Jack looked into Honour's eyes and marvelled at the joyous playfulness he found there. Once again they kissed, only to have the both of them dissolve into a giggling fit. “Honour, please stay with me,” he blurted. Honour's laugh faded, and a strange mixture of emotions competed to control her expression. She wanted so much to tell Jack everything; about their infant daughter, the plantation, and what was in her heart. But the words would not come. She had woven such a complex tapestry of secrets, half-truths, and lies that there was no simple way to unravel it all. It would take time for her to find the right words. When she did, those words would change Jack Wolfe's world forever. “Jack, please, not now.” “Why not? Honour, if not now, when?” “I promise, soon. When we're back aboard the ship.” He began to protest, and she put her finger against his lips. “Please, Jack. Let's just enjoy what we have right here, right now. We'll talk about everything when we're off this island. I swear.” Her words were of little comfort to him. He knew that Honour's definition of 'everything' ran the gamut from full disclosure to a thumbnail sketch depending on the circumstances. “You know I'm going to hold you to that,” he said sternly. “Jack?” “Yes, Honour?” “You're talking too much again.” Jack tilted his head and smiled slyly. “I suppose you're going to have to find a way to shut me up, then.” Honour snaked her arms around his neck and pulled him into a slow, smouldering, sensual kiss. Every nerve in his body felt as if they were on the verge of bursting into flame at any moment. She slowly broke away and looked into his eyes, knowing full well she had his absolute and undivided attention as she moved her body over his. “Feeling less talkative?” she asked with a devilish smirk. Jack returned her wicked look and nodded his head enthusiastically. Once more they kissed, and their lover's dance began anew.

Jack wasn't sure he heard her right. "Honour? Are you sure?" "Very sure." She loosened the drawstring of her chemise, drawing it off her shoulders. His breath quickened with every inch exposed to his eyes. He reached over to touch her cheek, his finger tracing down to her chin, sweeping her air away from her neck. He continued to trace a fine line down her neck and across the swelling of what lay beneath the fine cotton of her chemise. Her eyes closed as she dew in her breath. He could feel the rapid beat of her heart. Jack reached up and wound her hair in his left hand, drawing her face close to his. She entwined her hands around his neck, and her lips parted. "Honour, I always imagined our reunion would be in a soft bed with a bottle of merlot and moonlight and--" She put her finger to his lips. "Jack, you talk too much. Just don't say anything at all." Honour shrugged to let the chemise slip farther. Jack's eyes grew wide as he beheld her pale, delicate skin. He helped her free of the gauzy garment that had concealed the curves of her body that he so longed for. They joined in a deep, searching kiss as his hands traced those curves, caressing, cupping, stroking. A soft moan escaped her lips as his kisses began to trace down her neck to her shoulders as he laid her back on the bedroll. Within moments, the chemise was free of her and on the floor beside them. She drew him near, her hands eagerly pulling his shirt free. She longed for the sensation of his flesh against hers. Her fingers played over his back, the tips of her fingernails softly digging in here and there. That as all the encouragement Jack needed, if any more was necessary. Honour's message was crystal clear. She wanted him. Then and there. Their smouldering desire had sparked into an overwhelming need, a fire that nothing else would quench until only smoke and ashes remained. He slid his hand slowly, teasingly down her body. His practiced touch had not lost its spell on her. Jack knew just how she wanted to be touched, and which touches drove her wild. Her caresses were not lost on him, either. She had already loosened his breeches, knowing full well how to drive his desires onward. They both knew where they were headed and would be satisfied with nothing less. No words were needed. It was as if the time spent apart had never existed, so in tune were they to each others needs. "Honour..?" Jack paused and whispered. She could barely catch her breath to reply, "No, no talking, Jack..." "But, I need to know--" She took him by the chin and looked into his eyes. "There's only one thing you need to know, Jack Wolfe. That I will never forgive you if you don't shut up and finish what you started." And that was all Jack needed to hear.

Men began emerging from below decks once the fury of the storm had passed. Briggs, ever vigilant, had kept his station on the quarterdeck to ensure the ship's safety even as the heavens raged above him. He also had kept close watch on the beach where Jack and Honour had landed, in case they came back early. Now he shifted his attention from the island's shore to the crew going about putting anything dislodged by the storm back in its proper place. Two anxious looking men approached the quarterdeck and respectfully stopped halfway up the steps. “Mister Briggs!” the first one called. “We want ta volunteer wot as ta go searchin' for th' Cap'n an' the missus. We figure they might be in trouble after that 'ellacious storm an' all. Me an' Marley, that is.” “That'd be me,” Marley said meekly. “'E knows it's you, ye daft...” “Belay yerself, Bidwell,” Briggs interrupted. “Nobody's goin' anywhere. I'd wager my boots they found shelter and are safe as houses. Besides, Jack has the only map. I'll not send you nor anyone else to stumble about aimless in a haunted jungle.” “H-haunted?” gulped Marley. “Nobody said nuffin' 'bout a 'aunted jungle,” Bidwell said quietly, the sudden fear in his voice all too evident. The truth was Briggs didn't trust anyone aboard save Duckie and the cat after the previous night's mutiny, and he wanted to keep an eye on everyone. He continued to weave his yarn. “Aye, haunted! Jack held back that bit of information so as to keep the crew from worryin' needless-like.” He leaned close and pointed at the men in warning. “Now, I've already said too much about it to ye lot. Ye'll not breathe a word of this to a soul, or I'll have ye both over a barrel, understand?” “Not a word ta no one, aye,” said Bidwell. “C'mon, Marley. We got work ta do.” He turned and started down the steps, but his shipmate was rooted to the spot. “... haunted?” was all Marley could manage. Bidwell grabbed Marley by the collar and practically dragged the fear struck man behind him. Briggs let out a sigh and shook his head. “Well, Jack, ye always said a good crewman is soft in the head and strong of back. Those two are prime specimens, they are!” He walked back to the rail and peered out at the beach. “Don't make a liar out of me, Jack. Ye'd best be safe. Honour, too.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Moonlight poured in through the cave's entrance, bathing the couple in its pale radiance. Jack awoke from his sleep, and for a moment he was certain he must still be dreaming. For there in his arms lay the woman he loved with all his heart and soul. He regarded how angelic she looked as she slept, and he brought his face close to her hair. Slowly he breathed in, drinking in her delicate scent. It wasn't the jasmine she usually wore on her neck just behind her ears. It was simply... Honour. Without thinking, he reached up and caressed her golden moonlit tresses. Honour stirred at his touch and snuggled back against him in her sleep. He smiled, remembering all the times he held her this very way after they made love. He closed his eyes at the treasured memory and gently kissed her head. “Jack? Are you all right?” she asked in almost a whisper. “I'm fine, darling,” her answered, his voice low and soft. “I just woke up is all. Nothing's wrong. In fact, everything feels right.” She yawned and stretched a little, just as she always did upon waking. Jack chuckled softly as he felt the sleepy little tremor go through her when she arched her back. She rolled over to face him, a curious smile teasing the corners of her mouth. “What's so funny?” she asked. He smiled and shook his head slowly. “Not a thing. I was just thinking back to a time when I didn't have to get bitten by a snake to hold you.” Honour could feel the heat rise in her cheeks. Lying in his arms reminded her of how good things with Jack could be. How complete she felt making love with him. The nagging doubts would not go away, however. “I remember those times, too. But Jack, that was a long time ago...” “Not really, when you think about it. I've missed you terribly, Honour. Please, don't make me gather up a sack full of snakes to take back with us. Briggs has a hard enough time with the cat.” She burst into giggles at the thought of the curmudgeonly quartermaster running a gauntlet of poisonous serpents just to get to his cabin, only to find a stubborn cat curled up on his bed. Jack never failed to find a way to make her laugh. In honesty, she missed his off the wall sense of humour, and so many other things. “No,” she laughed. “No snakes. This is the second time I've saved your life, and I must say it's getting a little boring.” “Boring! And just as you were getting good at it. You're a hard woman to please Honour Bright.” “Not really,” she said, the mirth fading somewhat from her voice. “But I refuse to let you die in front of me, Jack Wolfe.” She poked him in the shoulder where he had been shot during the battle with Mendoza. “It would please me most if you managed to stay alive, in spite of yourself.” “I shall do my very best, my lady!” he laughed. Honour looked down at nothing in particular, absentmindedly playing with the front of his shirt. “You had quite a fever from the poison. Are you really feeling better?” “Thanks to you, I feel wonderful. Why do you ask?” “It's just that... when you were feverish, you said... things. I doubt you even remember them.” Jack gently took her hand and pressed his lips against her skin. “I meant it, Honour. I do love you. I never stopped. I never will.” She could feel her heart swell in her chest, so full that it felt close to bursting. All her doubts fled like wraiths from the morning sunlight. She looked at how the moonbeams glimmered in his eyes, knowing full well that the light there shone for her and her alone. Her hand squeezed his, and she swallowed hard. “There is one other thing that would please me, Jack,” she said quietly. “Name it, my love. Anything at all.” Honour took a deep breath, looked deep in her husband's eyes, and spoke her wish. “Make love to me.”

Back on the island of the Ancients... Jack and Honour spent the next hour carefully retracing their path back through the enormous jungle maze, neither one of them having yet come to terms with the gravity of their discovery or the surreal circumstances in which it happened. Getting to safe location well away from the temple before nightfall was the most important thing on their minds. The books and idols had been waiting for hundreds of years, if not longer. A couple more hours wouldn't matter. As they laughed and talked, Honour reflected on how Jack's demeanour toward her had changed since the attempted mutiny. Gone were the rude, almost hostile outbursts and dismissive behaviour. He had become solicitous, protective, and genuinely warm. There was a tenderness in his eyes when he looked at her that made her insides flutter, just as it had when they were first married. The old feelings stirred strongly within her, but with them came a terrible uncertainty. So much had happened between them, how could they possibly regain even a portion of they had lost? She pushed the thoughts aside for the time being, knowing that a firm decision would have to be made sooner than later. But not now. Honour could see that much of Jack's reckless swagger was gone. His actions now were deliberate in comparison, but still driven by his indomitable, forceful will. She began to wonder if her leaving had anything to do with the change, and she found herself growing intensely curious about what happened to him after she and their unborn daughter left Barbados. Finally, she found the courage to try and find out. “How do you think she did it? Found the temple, I mean,” Honour asked tentatively. Jack gave a chuckle. “How does Bonita do anything? Damned sneaky, she is. I can't believe she managed to follow us. You'd think we would have seen her ship, or at least a sign that someone was here with us. Perhaps the maze has more than one entrance to the path to the temple. As you've witnessed,” he patted the haversack carrying the three golden idols, “the Ancients didn't believe in doing anything halfway.” “You didn't seem overly surprised that she found us.” “There's very little Bonita can do any more that would surprise me, darling.” “I suppose, as long as you've known her, you've seen nearly everything she can do.” Try as she might to hide it, a note of jealousy rang in her voice like a ship's watch bell. “When was the last time you saw her before all this?” Jack gave her a bemused look before answering. “Nearly three months ago. I was leaving on my latest, and ultimately successful, voyage to search for you.” Her face flushed at his words, but she pressed on. “You went back Castara, then?” “There was nothing left for me in Barbados. You were gone. Someone snapped up the plantation by the time I returned from Martinique, would you believe it?” He sighed heavily. “It was just as well. That scheming cockerel Jennings abandoned the Castara operation when he went his own way, and I had to go back to negotiate the dissolution of the company. It cost me a fair bit of coin, but less than I feared. The only one who didn't put up a fuss was that tight-fisted James Blake. He seemed almost... sympathetic. It's the closest I've ever seen him come to pity. Who knows with him, though? The man carries secrets as easily as the rest of us carry our skin. But I digress.” He helped her step over a small fallen tree before continuing. “After that, I spent my time searching for the pieces of this grand puzzle we just solved a part of. And searching for you. How fitting that you should hold the one thing I need most.” Honour smiled and thought to herself just how intertwined their lives had been almost from the very start. She knew full well he wasn't talking about just the Sun key any more. The feeling was still there within her, too, but she kept a tight rein. Nagging doubts still plagued her, and she had to be certain. Certain of him, and of herself most of all. “A few days ago, I would have never believed I would be saying this to you. I'm glad you found me, Jack.” “You didn't make it easy,” he laughed. “I practically tore the New World apart looking for you.” “I went home,” she said quietly. “To Wales.” He gave her a suprised look. “That explains the where. But what I don't understand, at least not completely, is... why?” She looked up at him, and in his eyes she could see the pain he still carried. Her own eyes began to well with tears. “Jack, so much happened so fast,” she said, trying to keep her voice from wavering. “I didn't want to leave, but everything... wait! Jack, do you hear that? A hissing sound? It's getting louder!” The pair had been so intent on their conversation that they hadn't noticed the heavy black storm clouds that had been gathering ever since they reentered the jungle. “I know that sound,” he replied. “Rain, and a lot of it. Bloody hell! We're in for a downpour!”

Clockwork noises emanated anew from somewhere within the chest. As the couple looked on, a set of panels on the lower third of the chest’s side pushed outward, then rotated before retracting into the chest itself. Jack and Honour’s eyes went wide at that the Ancient’s latest display of mechanical wizardry revealed. “Gold,” they whispered in unison. Cautiously they approached the chest. They could see what appeared to be the bases of three small statues. Jack lifted one of them free from its hiding place. The figure was of a fierce looking man with an ornate headdress, seated in a throne. Its eyes were two of the most radiant rubies either of them had ever seen. Honour picked up another. The face of this one was impassive, like the stone faces they had encountered throughout the temple. Its eyes were flawless emeralds. The third’s face was strange, almost a mask of fear or dread. Its eyes were sparkling diamonds, clear and brilliant. All three of the statues had a set of rods protruding from the bottom, each one in a different pattern. “This is incredible,” said Jack in hushed awe. “Whatever these are for, it has to be contained in the books.” “Do you think these are part of something else? Another of the Ancients’ puzzles?” “It stands to reason, what with these strange rods sticking out of the underside of all three statues.” “More keys?” “That’s my guess as well. But to what?” “Thank goodness they aren’t as hideous as the last two keys,” said Honour. “Can we please go now? This was a good surprise, but I’m scared that if we overstay our welcome the next one won’t be as pleasant.” Jack placed the statues into the haversack and gave it a pat. “Right you are. I have no desire for us to become permanent fixtures here.” He took the torch from the wall and pointed toward the doorway. “Let’s go find that sunlight.” “And fresh air! I’ll take jungle flowers over a musty ancient temple any day.” As they left the chamber, Jack glanced up at the stone face and was relieved to find its eyes still closed. They made their way back through the main cathedral-like chamber to the stairway leading out. Jack paused to look back. “You want to come back here, don’t you,” asked Honour. “Maybe one day. There might be more secrets here, more parts to the mystery of these strange folk still hidden away. Who knows what the books will reveal? Maybe even the location of that grand city.” “Something tells me you’ll find out. But do me a favour, please?” “And what’s that?” “Don’t become obsessed and lose your mind like LaFourche.” “You mean LaFork, don’t you? Don’t confuse me like that.” Honour rolled her eyes. “Does everything have to be a joke with you?” He cocked his head and smiled at her. “No. Not everything.” She started to say something, but no words were to be found. The look in his eyes caught her completely off guard. She remembered that look. It made her heart skip a beat, and the sensation of butterflies fluttering inside. They proceeded up the stairway toward the sunlight in silence, both of them lost in thought. Jack was caught up in the mystery of the Ancients, and Honour was caught up in the mystery of this man she was married to. And if she would stay to any answers. As they neared the top of the stairs, a deep rumbling could be heard from deep within the temple. The sound of stone scraping on stone could be heard, but this time it was something massive. “Oh, no, no, no! Bollocks!” exclaimed Jack. He laid down his sacks and ran back down the stairway as fast as his legs would carry him. Honour called after him, but he ignored her pleas to come back. The torchlight finally reached the source of the noise: a huge stone door was closing, sealing the inner temple off from the outside world. He stopped and watched as the door closed with a resounding boom. Honour watched as Jack walked dejectedly up the stairway. When he finally reached her, she put her arms around him and laid her head on his shoulder. “It’s all right,” she said softly. “Is it really? That door over a foot thick. I’ll never be able to raise it.” “I don’t think you have to. Whatever the answer to the next part of the puzzle is, it is not here.” He looked at her quizzically. “Why would they let you have the books and the keys, then wall you off from where they would be used? Don’t you see? The answer is somewhere else. Not here, not on this island. The Ancients are telling you to keep looking.” Jack thought about her words, and his face brightened. “That makes sense. That actually does make perfect sense! When did you learn to think like them?” “I didn’t have to. I’m a woman. Discerning that there is a deeper meaning to some things comes naturally.” “I’m grateful to have you here, Honour. Intuition and all.” “And my right hook?” “Especially your right hook!” They walked out into the sunlight, breathing in the warm jungle air as they crossed the temple’s expansive courtyard. Jack kept thinking about Honour’s logic, and was confident she was right. The sealing of the temple wasn’t the end of this adventure. It was only the beginning. He looked at her and noticed the almost gleeful expression she wore. “What has you so happy?” he asked. “Oh, you know.” “Finally getting to belt Bonita in that smug face of hers?” “And knowing that she is out of our lives. I feel like singing!” “I’m sure the birds would gladly join in. What on earth is that you’re playing with?” She showed him what she had been turning over in her hand since they had left the temple. “One of Bonita’s poppets. It fell out of her pouch when she landed on the floor. I though Puddin’ would like a new toy.” “He’ll love it! And I’m sure Briggs will appreciate finding it in his bed.” They laughed together, and Honour locked up her arm in his as they walked into the jungle. And in that moment, golden statues and grand adventures were the furthest things from his mind. Only a treasure named Honour Bright.

Honour walked back around the altar to where Jack stood, rubbing the reddened knuckles of her right hand. “So much for Bonita’s gift of second sight,” she said with a wry smile. “That was a pretty mean punch you threw. I was only slightly less surprised than Bonita by it.” “She’s lucky my bodice dagger is still lodged in the mainmast.” “I’ll never underestimate your resourcefulness,” chuckled Jack. “She certainly deserved it.” “I’ve wanted to do that since the day I met that awful woman.” He took her right hand and gently kissed it. “It took me back to an earlier time. The night we met.” Honour giggled at the memory. “That loudmouthed drunk with the shoe problem?” “You’re still the feisty streetfighter who managed to captivate me so.” “Jack Wolfe, you are a sentimental fool.” Her eyes met his, and they found themselves being drawn into a kiss. But Honour remembered that they weren’t exactly alone, and turned her face away. “Jack, can we... I just want out of this place. I can’t stand that thing staring at us a moment longer.” He kissed her head, pausing briefly to take in the scent of her hair. “You’re right, love. We’ll pack up and get out of here straight away.” “Pack up?” she asked. “Pack up what?” “The books,” he replied. He retrieved two oiled canvas bags from the haversack he used to carry the journal and light provisions. He tossed one of them to her. “Here. I think half of them will fit easily.” “We’re taking the books? I thought you said they were worthless.” “No, Bonita said they were worthless. I pretended to go along with her.” “So what you said about using them for kindling...” “I lied.” “Of course you lied,” she said. “Your lips were moving. Have you ever, even for a moment, considered telling the truth? Just for the sake of variety?” “Honour, if I started telling the truth now, what would be left for my deathbed confession? Think it through. Bedsides, Bonita would have taken then out of spite. Probably to destroy them or dump them in the jungle.” “What will you do with them, then?” “Oh, I don’t know. Read them, perhaps?” “Do you know how?” “Of course not. There’s the challenge. Now, help me pack.” They carefully loaded the sacks with the ancient books. Honour noticed that they varied somewhat in thickness but not in height or width. Jack seemed more preoccupied with getting them packed away as quickly as possible. She guessed it was a holdover from his days spent in less savoury pursuits. Finally, the last book was secured and the sacks tied shut. “That’s the last of it,” said Jack with satisfaction. “Ready to see the sunlight again?” “Lead the way out, mon capitan. Just one thing, though.” “What’s that?” “The next time you want to take me to an island, make it Martinique or Saint Thomas. Some place with shopping and decent tea.” “I promise.” He looked up at the stone face, which continued to watch them impassively. “It doesn’t seem angry about our taking the books.” “It’s made of stone,” said Honour. “Can it change expression if it wanted to?” “I’d rather not find out. Still...” He cleared his voice and spoke to the watcher. “I don’t know if you can understand me, or even hear me. But I promise to treat these books with care and respect. We will leave now and let you go back to sleep if that is all right with you.” The stone face continued to look at him. Then it seemed to shift its gaze back to the empty chest still nestled in the altar, and its eyes slowly closed. “Does that mean ‘bon voyage and don’t forget to write’?” asked Honour. “I’m taking it as such. Come on, let’s get out of here.” They walked toward the door of the chamber, but stopped in their tracks when they heard the sound of stone scraping on stone behind them. They turned warily to see what was moving in the chamber. To their astonishment, they found the chest was rising slowly out of the altar. “Did we cause that?” asked Honour. “I have a feeling our stoic friend is behind this. But why?” The chest continued to rise until it was completely free of the stone altar. Jack and Honour watched and waited in silent anticipation for what might happen next. But nothing did. “Is that it?” asked Honour. “Looks that way. Do you need a box for Muir’s toys?” “It would make a nice planter...”

Honour, Jack, and Bonita stepped toward the chest in breathless silence. Honour had expected Bonita to throw herself on the chest in a fit of greed, but the dark woman kept a respectful distance. Jack reached forward and grasped the lid. The look of manic eagerness Honour had seen in his eyes had been replaced with one of cautious hope. He took a deep breath and lifted the lid away from the chest. All three leaned in to see what treasures the gilded box contained. Honour’s expression turned to one of bewilderment. Bonita’s went from astonishment to angry confusion. And Jack simply began to laugh. “Oh, that’s beautiful. Just beautiful!” He looked up at the stone face that continued to observe them. “You cheeky, cheeky bastards. How completely brilliant of you!” “I don’t understand,” said Honour. “What are they?” Jack reached into the chest and picked up one of the items. It was a wooden plank, approximately one foot in length, five inches wide, and nearly an inch thick. It was covered in some sort of fine cloth with what appeared to be some sort of writing and strange drawings on both sides. “Look around you, Honour. Would you say that in order to build something as incredible as this temple, and to have created such an ingenious way of watching over it with the stone faces, wouldn’t that take a lot of knowledge?” “Of course it would. Why?” “In order to preserve that knowledge, you write it down for future generations.” He gently pulled at the edge of the cloth covered plank, and it began to open up. In fact, it wasn’t a plank at all. It was a stack of very thin wooden slats, covered in fabric and written upon, and bound into a single fan-folded piece. Every section was filled with the same cryptic writing, from top to bottom and side to side, on front and on back. “Books!” he said gleefully. “That’s the treasure of the Ancients. Their knowledge, written down and preserved. Not gold or silver. Books, locked away in a portable archive. There’s probably twenty volumes here. Surely not everything, but a nice chunk of it.” “The chest seemed heavier than holding just books,” said Honour. “You heard the lock mechanisms. All that clockwork has to weigh something.” “I suppose so. And only you would be this excited over finding a cache of books. How can you be sure it’s the lost knowledge of the Ancients anyway? They could just as well be cookbooks or the king’s favourite dirty jokes for we know.” “Who would go to all the trouble to lock up cookbooks?” “You’d be surprised. The manor’s cook kept hers in a locked cupboard and the sharpest knives close by. ” “Well, this is the only place the chest can be opened, and I don’t see a cookstove about. Safe to rule out a library of recipes.” He paused for a moment, his smile broadening. “What’s the matter, Bonita? You don’t look happy. Not happy at all. Are you not liking this little lesson in the old adage about all that glitters?” “Dis not make any sense,” she fumed. “Jack Wolfe only concern himself wit’ gold and silver. Dey are de only t’ings that make him truly happy. Why him so happy over books?” “I’ll admit, you’re right,” he shrugged. “I was expecting - hoping - for lots of shiny valuables. But it would seem the Ancients were far more pragmatic than their descendents.” He offered Bonita the book in his hand. “Here you go. Your birthright. Read us a story, eh? I’m all ears.” Bonita glared at him and did not take the book. “Ah, that’s because you can’t read this writing, isn’t it? What you learned was all oral tradition. Stories handed down the generations by word of mouth, changing and diverging all along the way until they don’t even resemble the original writings.” He tapped the book for emphasis. “This may be your birthright, but your ancestors unintentionally cut you off from that inheritance long ago. Still, they would look lovely on your bookshelf back in Castara. If you had a bookshelf. Maybe these tell you how to build a bookshelf?” “Bonita have no need for dese useless t’ings. Bonita have all de knowledge she need, right here!” she said as she tapped her forehead. “Him can add de books to him library.” “Why?” asked Honour. “Wasn’t the point of all this so you could steal the contents of the chest away from him?” “Dere is no gold to steal, and dat all him care about. So let him have a chest full of books him cannot even read. All dose years of him life chasing after not’ing. Justice have been served.” “What can I say?” replied Jack. “You won. After years of searching, all I got was a pile of old smelly books writen in a dead language. I still may take a few with me for starting campfires. Saves foraging for tinder.” “It were a pleasure seeing you again, Jack Wolfe,” said Bonita through an oily smile. After shooting Honour a disdainful look, she turned to her cousin. “Isaiah, we go now. Bonita have all she came for.” “Bonita, wait,” said Honour. “You and I have some unfinished business.” The dark woman turned to face Honour, a look of cold defiance in her eyes. Honour stepped closer as she began to speak. “I know we’ve never been on good terms. You hated me from the start, and I can't get within fifty feet of you without my skin crawling. But there were things you said about me to Jack, and I want to set the record straight.” Bonita sighed impatiently. “Go on.” “You told him I had an agenda. And agenda to steal his money and leave him at the first opportunity. You were wrong.” “Actually, that is what happened, darling,” interrupted Jack. She shot him a look over her shoulder. “You’re not helping.” “Sorry. I’ll just stand here and not help.” “Anyway,” Honour continued, “You were right about me having an agenda, though. It was to help my husband on his search to discover the secrets of this chest. I’m glad you were here to see that achieved. And despite what you think of me, I would never stoop to the levels that you think I would, or the depths that you have. You will never frighten me, and I won’t be provoked by the likes of you.” She turned to walk back to Jack’s side when Bonita said condescendingly, “De golden haired child, her such a pretty little liar.” Honour stopped, took a deep breath, and said, “So I was wrong.” With that, she whirled and landed a hard right hook to Bonita’s jaw. The force of the punch spun Bonita to the ground, where she lay unconscious. Honour looked down at her handiwork and nodded in satisfaction. Jack reached for his sword to defend Honour from Isaiah. But to his surprise, Isaiah put away his weapons and stooped to pick up his cousin. “When de women fight,” rumbled the giant man, “De men folk stay out of it. Women, dey fight too dirty.” “Wise choice. I’ll remember that,” said Jack. Isaiah nodded, and carried Bonita from the chamber toward the long stairway that lead back to the sunlight.

He fumbled for the pouch containing the two keys. Honour looked on as he produced the moon key, his hand trembling as he moved it toward its receptacle. Gently, she steadied his hand with hers. Jack gave her a smile of gratitude in return. “Together?” he asked. “Together.” They carefully put the key in place and pressed until it clicked snugly into the mechanism. Jack exhaled, then began to reach for the pouch again. “Why is de key not working?” demanded Bonita. “Because it’s a dual-key lock, or haven’t you been paying attention? Do try to keep up.” Jack said tersely. He nodded to the stone face above the doorway. “If you need a refresher, ask him. We’re trying to concentrate.” “Oh, my God!” Honour gasped. She had looked up at the face as well, and was aghast to find its eyes were open and watching them. “You were right, Honour,” said Jack. “The twin of the room you found, it had walls of faces as well. And I saw their eyes, too.” “Why didn’t you say so before we came down here?” “Would you have entered the temple if I had told you the truth?” “Of course not!” “Well, then.” He pulled the sun key from the pouch. “Since we have their attention, shall we continue?” Honour glared at him and plucked the key from his hand. “Anything else you haven’t been honest with me about?” “Not in the past thirty seconds, no.” She rolled her eyes and pointed at the chest. “Let’s put this in the lock before I feed it to you.” Together they grasped the sun key, as they had with the moon. Honour looked at Jack’s face, and saw there a mix of manic excitement and the glee of a child receiving a gift pony. She found herself hoping that all his years of searching were about to finally pay off. If only they could find a way to keep Bonita from stealing it away from him. Jack’s excitement was infectious, and her heart began to race as they placed the key on its receptacle. “Are you ready,” he asked. “Just one question.” “What’s that?” “Well... when we fix the key in place, what happens next?” “I assume it unlocks the chest.” “I mean, what will it do? How do we know it’s unlocked?” Jack shrugged. “I have no idea.” “The journal doesn’t say?” “No. No one has gotten this far. We’re the first.” His eyes gleamed as he spoke. “No one has seen what we are about to see for countless ages. Isn’t that exciting?” Honour nodded in agreement. “It is. And I hope it’s everything you’ve imagined.” “Here we go, then. On three. One, two... three.” The sun key snapped into place, and a muffled click came from somewhere inside the chest. And nothing happened. “Damn it,” said Honour under her breath. Jack leaned close to examine the lock mechanism. “Maybe, just maybe...” he muttered. Finally, he used his index finger and gave it a sharp tap. “Gotcha!” he exclaimed triumphantly. The keys and their receptacles rotated back into the lock. The entire cylindrical mechanism then began to turn slowly and retract into the chest. Whirring and clicking could be heard emanating from within as ancient clockwork performed its hidden dance. Jack shook his head in admiration. “There’s not a clock maker alive who wouldn’t give his firstborn to see this.” The top of the cylinder became flush with the rest of the chest’s lid. It’s rotation sped up slightly as it completed another half turn before coming to a complete halt. The sounds of clockwork could still be heard within the chest. Suddenly, there was a rapid succession of eight louder clicks, and the lid slowly rose from the chest by roughly half an inch. The ancient seal had been broken. The chest, for the first time in generations, was finally unlocked.

“We already tried,” said Honour. “Jack put the keys in place, and nothing happened. So either the keys are fakes, the information is wrong, or the mechanism is just too old to work anymore. Regardless, the chest isn’t opening today. You and your cousin should go back to wherever you came from, and we’ll go on our way as well.” Bonita shook her head. “No. Even if de chest not open on de first try, it will open. Jack Wolfe been too long trying to get at what it holds to give up so easy. Him have not tried everyt’ing yet.” “What makes you so sure?” replied Honour. “Because him a resourceful man! Jack will find a way. Him always find a way to get what him wants. Or do Bonita know de Golden Child’s husband better dan her do?” Honour’s fist and jaw clenched simultaneously, but Jack spoke before she could do anything rash. “Honour, don’t. It’s all right. Don’t let her goad you. It’s not worth you getting hurt.” “Like I couldn’t take her? I’m lots younger than she is.” Jack nodded towards Isaiah. “It’s not her I’m worried about.” Honour looked over at the towering man and found him glaring back at her. “Fine,” she sighed. “Now, as Bonita were saying before de unruly child speak out of place, where else did Jack plan to try? If de chest not open here, den it must need somet’ing else.” “We were working on that when you and your pet oak tree showed up,” said Jack. “There are two smaller chambers we haven’t explored yet. I don’t suppose you would care to pitch in and help?” “Bonita and Isaiah will stay here to keep watch over de chest,” said Bonita, keeping up her haughty air. “Jack and de girl child will keep looking for what dey seek.” Jack reluctantly accepted her orders. Bonita had many shortcomings, but her intelligence wasn’t one of them. She knew to keep Jack and Honour separated, to prevent them from scheming together against her. “Honour, don’t hesitate to call out if you find anything, anything at all that might help us,” he said, trying to muster as much of a reassuring tone as he could. “I can’t believe you’re going to let her get away with this,” muttered Honour. “At the moment, I’m short on alternatives that would work and keep you safe. Just keep your eyes open. I’ll get you out this. I promise.” Honour looked at him for several seconds, then a confident smile began to appear on her face. “I know you’ll get us out of this.” The couple parted ways, each going to the last chamber on their respective side of the grand chamber. Bonita and Isaiah watched intently as Jack and Honour disappeared through the doorways. Jack held his torch up high enough to illuminate the entire room he had entered. The carvings on the walls were similar to the other chambers, but the motif seemed to be more of a celestial nature. The sun, moon, and stars made up a sort of stone tapestry that encompassed the space. There was no altar present, but four wide waist-high pedestals stood arranged near the centre of the room. Set into the top of each pedestal were two dozen large, clear gemstones of varying colours and shapes. He knew he was staring at a king’s fortune in precious stones. Or Bonita’s fortune, as things were turning out. But he had to see if the stones were permanently set in their stone consoles or not. The only other observer there was the sleeping stone face over the doorway. Slowly, carefully, he reached down to lift a large ruby from its resting place... “JACK!” He jumped, startled so badly that he nearly dropped his torch. “Honour, is everything all right?” “I think I found it,” she replied. “You really need to come see this yourself.” “The last two times you said that, I wish I hadn’t seen what you’d found.” “Just hush and get in here, would you?” He paused at the doorway of the gem chamber, then cursed under his breath as he continued on to see what Honour had found. Bonita and Isaiah were still guarding the chest as Jack walked quickly past them. “What is it?” asked Bonita. “What did her find?” “You’re the bloody fortune teller, you tell me! But if you’re in a betting mood, have Goliath there bring the chest.” “Isaiah,” rumbled the giant. “Whatever. Same book, right? That’s got to count. Now, come on.” Jack continued on, followed by Bonita. Isaiah put down his torch and lifted the gilded chest like it was a small sack of flour. When they got to the chamber, Honour was standing in the middle of the room with her torch held high over an ornate stone altar. In it’s top surface was a large rectangular socket. It looked to be the perfect size to receive the chest. “Dans instead of sur, just as I thought!” beamed Honour. Jack hurried to the altar and looked down into the opening. Its sides were smooth and even, and on the bottom were a number of short upward-facing projections smaller in circumference than a man’s little finger. He recognised their pattern as the mirror image of the one made by small holes on the bottom of the chest. “As brilliant as you are beautiful, my love,” he grinned. “I’m just sorry the circumstances took such a sour turn.” “We solved it together, that’s the important thing. You’re a far finer treasure any day.” “Enough lover’s talk,” interrupted Bonita. “Isaiah, put de chest in it rightful place.” “Hold on,” said Jack. “It has to go in a certain way, or he’ll ruin the mechanism and any chance of getting the chest open.” Bonita frowned, but nodded her agreement. “All right, mate,” said Jack to Isaiah. “Hold the chest up higher... Nice sarcasm. A bit lower, please... there. I can see the pattern clearly. Now, take it round to Honour’s side of the altar and slowly lower it in.” Honour stepped out of the way as Isaiah brought the chest over the altar and began to lower it inside. “There,” coached Jack. “Slowly, slowly, that’s it... perfect!” The chest was seated fully into the altar, with only its lid protruding above the altar’s surface. And audible click echoed in the chamber, followed by muffled whirring. The four people looked at one another as the strange sounds seemed to slow and die away. “That’s it?” asked Honour. Suddenly, the lid’s central disk, where Jack had originally tried to place the keys, disengaged and sprang up a full two inches above the rest of the lid. They watched in stunned surprised as the engraved receptacles for the keys rotated away from one another. “Oh, no,” smiled Jack. “We’re just getting started!”

“Dat not any way for him to greet Bonita, after all dis time.” She stood before the large altar, between Jack and the chest. Held aloft in one hand was a torch, while her other hand stayed near a leather pouch that hung from her belt. No weapons could be seen, but Jack was well aware of the lethal surprises that could be concealed in the folds of the dark woman’s calico dress. “You’ll forgive me for not being happy to see you,” said Jack. “Unless you’ve come all this way to lend a hand, then I’ll be the first to welcome you to our little expedition.” He motioned for Honour to come to his side, which she did without hesitation. Bonita’s eyes narrowed at this. She knew someone was with Jack. But she hadn’t counted on it being his wife. Something had gone wrong with her curse. Something she would surely remedy in due time.. “Bonita tell Jack her know how to find de temple of de Ancients! But would him listen? Would him ever listen?” “Fine, fine,” he said testily. “Jump right to the I told you so’s. But tell me- how long have you been here?” “Longer dan him t’ink.” Jack shook his head. “No, that’s not an answer. I believe the real answer is that you followed us in.” “What make him so sure?” she asked defiantly. “We had to cut a trail. Thick underbrush, damned difficult to get through.” “Bonita cut her own trail--” “And did I mention the whole island is a maze? The whole bloody thing, one massive maze. My lovely bride here made that discovery. And we have the only known map. One way in, and lots of very dead ends. Like any good maze. Ergo, you followed us.” “Thanks much for letting us do all the work,” added Honour. “Heaven forbid you break a nail.” Bonita glared at them in angry silence. “Just as I thought. Thanks again for dropping in like this, Bonita, but we’re terribly busy,” said Jack. “It was delightful catching up. I trust you can find your way out.” “Bonita not going anywhere,” she said with cold sternness. “Not wit’out what Bonita come here for.” Jack could feel Honour's grip tighten on his shirt. She didn't like where this was going any more than he did. “Let me guess,” he said, making no attempt to hide his displeasure. “The contents of the chest? When did you get into the business of highway robbery?” “What is in de chest be much, much more dan de shiny swag him took from so many ships. It is wort' all de patience Bonita could find wit'in herself, waiting for Jack Wolfe to finally gat’er all de pieces and bring dem to dis sacred place. Dere were a reason him and Bonita were brought toget'er so many years ago when him first start looking for de chest. It were Fate's hand.” “'Fate's hand'?” he echoed incredulously. “Oh, that’s rich! You’ve known about the keys and the chest for years, yet you said nothing about their origin. You contributed nothing to my efforts to locate the journal. But now you show up at just the right time to try and steal the treasure I've worked so hard to find, and you call it fate? My wife and I have risked life and limb to discover and retrieve what is contained in that vessel. If you think I'm going to hand over it’s contents to you, you've really gone round the bend. No, I won’t let you stroll in here and lay claim to my prize.” “Jack Wolfe’s precious prize be damned!” Bonita retorted in a commanding voice Jack had never heard her use before. “Bonita claim her birt’right!” Jack and Honour stared at her in disbelief. “All right,” he said after a few moments. “This I have to hear.” “Bonita tell de trut’!” she continued. “Her Tia Elena, she tell stories of dese people him call de Ancients. How untol' years ago dey abandon dey empire to go amongst de people of ot'er lands to spread dey knowledge so it would not be lost. Tia Elena teach Bonita everyt’ing she know of dem. She say one day dey secrets would be revealed, and Bonita would stand witness to it. De bones tell her dis, and de bones no lie!” Jack began to slowly clap in mocking applause. “A lovely story, Bonita. Really, it’s quite the imaginative yarn. A pity you didn’t bother to mention any of this beforehand. It would have been awfully helpful, not to mention a damn sight more believable!” “It were not wort’ mentioning before because Bonita not see de connection until you, Jack Wolfe, found de one t'ing dat link dem all toget'er.” She pointed at the book in his hand. “The journal!” Honour gasped. “Jack, you showed it to her?” “Not intentionally. She ransacked my room to find it,” he said. “I’ve had quite enough of this, Bonita. No more of your lies, no more fairy stories. Either leave on your own, or I’ll tie you up and toss you in a corner somewhere, but you’ll not interfere with us any longer!” Bonita met his gaze. Slowly, a wicked smile spread across her face. “What are you grinning at?” he said angrily. “You think I’m joking? That I won’t do it?” “Bonita not smiling at Jack Wolfe.” She nodded in the direction of the doorway behind him. “Bonita smiling at him.” Honour tugged at Jack’s sleeve. “Jack, turn around. You had better see this.” “I’m beginning to hate when you say things like that. Am I going to like what I see?” “Not really.” “Didn’t think so. It’s become that kind of day...” He turned to find a mountain of a man just outside the main doorway. “Oh, bollocks,” muttered Jack. The ebony giant ducked down in order to enter the grand chamber. Once inside, he drew himself up to full height as he strode towards them. He was easily six and one half feet tall, clad in breeches, boots, and a waistcoat. Tucked into his belt were two extremely long, no doubt extremely sharp bone-handled knives. He stood looking down impassively on the trio with his hands on his hips, his massive hands much too close to the knife handles for Jack's comfort. Jack knew he could not hope to draw a weapon fast enough before the colossus would be upon him. Bonita's chuckle broke the silence. “Him are Bonita’s cousin, Isaiah,” she said smugly. “Now dat everyone are acquainted, please, Jack. Open de chest."

“The ink’s all smudged,” said Honour. “What? Yeah, why? The cat knocked over my cup one night and the pages got soaked.” She brought the book to him and pointed at one particular sentence. “Look here. Right here, where it says ‘Placez la’ - I’m guessing that’s ‘poitrine’ - something ‘l'autel’.” “Yes, what about it?” “Did you read this before or after Puddin’ spilt rum all over it?” “After.” “What if you’ve got it wrong, then? What if instead of “Placez la poitrine sur l’autel”, it’s really “Placez la poitrine dans l’autel”? In, rather than on?” “But you see the altar, Honour. There’s no place to put the chest in. On is our only option.” “What if this isn’t the altar? What if there’s another altar, one purpose built for this chest?” Understanding dawned on Jack’s face. “We haven’t investigated any of the rooms yet.” “We’d best get to nosing about, don’t you think?” “Oh, yes!! Honour, you are positively brilliant!” “I know,” she said with a wink. Jack plucked the keys from the chest and put them back into the box on his belt. Then he gave Honour the small torch they had brought into the temple with them, and he took the large torch for lighting the lamps for himself. The pair split up, each taking the three rooms on their respective side of the grand chamber. The first room Honour entered was sparsely arranged. Just a few chairs, but an incredible amount of detailed carvings on the walls. Unlike the interlaced vine things depicted in the main chamber, these carvings depicted people. Honour assumed they must be the Ancients, as they bore a strong resemblance to the sleeping faces that seemed to be scattered all through the temple. As she followed the carvings around the room, she slowly realised what was going on in the mural. She put her hand to her mouth and giggled. That one looked an awful lot like page 38, and this other one... she had to stop and count arms and legs to try and figure out how many people were involved. “Have you found anything yet?” called Jack. “Uh, no, nothing important!” “Me neither. Just farming scenes, lots of planting and harvesting. What about yours?” “Oh... lots of planting. Lots and lots of planting.” “Boring stuff, isn’t it? I’m heading to the next room.” “So will I then.” “But don’t be surprised when--” Honour yelped in surprise when she turned towards the door. “-- when you see the stone face over the door. I’m guessing they’re in every room.” “Thanks for the warning! A little earlier next time, please?” Jack chuckled as he entered the next room. But his mirth was quickly replaced by wonder at what he saw. It was not the altar he was seeking, but something uniquely spectacular. Displayed before him was a gigantic model, some twelve feet long and ten feet wide, of a fantastic city. Everything was represented, down to the smallest detail. What appeared to be housing for the general populace ringed the outer portion. There was a massive market square, with buildings for permanent shops, areas for food vendors, even stalls for animals. A complex of what looked to be ornate governmental buildings filled a large portion of the map. And at the centre of it all a stood colossal temple, complete with a huge courtyard flanked with stone seating that resembled a Roman amphitheatre. If this model represented an actual city, quite possibly the capital city of the Ancient’s civilisation, Jack Wolfe may well have stumbled upon the greatest find since the discovery of the Ican and Mayan empires. “Honour! Honour, come quickly! You have to see this!” he cried. “No, Jack, you had better come here. And fast.” “Did you find the altar?” “No. Something I wish I hadn’t found at all.” There was something about Honour’s tone of voice that told him something was seriously wrong. He hurried back to the main chamber to find her standing there, grim faced and tense. She was looking in the direction of the big stone altar where they had left the chest. He turned to see what had her attention, and nearly dropped his torch when he saw what it was. “You!” he gasped.

Jack looked around the chamber in awe. “Honour, isn’t this magnificent?” he called out as he turned in circles, trying to take in all that the lamps had revealed. He was in front of what appeared to be a large altar flanked by two massive stone columns. The columns and the wall behind the altar had more of the same strange carvings inlaid into them; strange symbols, and intricate vine-like designs that wove together to form elaborate designs that reminded Honour of Celtic knotwork she had seen in the Welsh countryside. The vine carvings that climbed up each of the two columns ended in the same way - at a slumbering stone face. “Have you ever seen the like?” he asked. Honour swallowed, fighting the urge to run back up the stairs and escape this bizarre place. “Not in the last week or so, no. I’ve got a nutty aunt who would be positively giddy over the décor, though.” “Maybe we’ll find the artist’s signature. If we every figure out how to read their writing.” Jack walked to her and took her gently by the shoulders. “Are you still with me, love? You’ve got that look on your face.” “Which look is that? The ‘I really want to scream’ or the ‘I really want to run’ look?” “Squarely between the two.” “Oh, you are good.” “Nice of you to remember,” he smiled. “Wait, is that a blush I see in your cheeks?” She gave him a gentle push. “Not that I’ll ever admit to you. And quit smiling at me like that!” He caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers. “I’ll get you out of here as quickly as I can, right after we get the chest opened. I promise.” “Don’t promise me. Just make it happen.” “As much as I would love to explore this place top to bottom, I suppose that can wait. We’re the only ones who know how to get here. I can always come back.” “You would consider coming back here, even after you find the treasure?” “Knowledge is treasure, too, love. And there’s a whacking great load of it here to be recorded. But first things first.” He picked up one end of the chest. “Let’s get this opened, since they were kind enough to make things so easy for us. Take the other end, and help me get it up on that altar.” Honour did as he asked, and together they carried the chest to the altar. As they set the chest upon the altar, she looked up furtively to see if either of the stone faces had decided to watch them. A sigh of relief escaped her lips when she saw they had taken no notice. “Right,” said Jack quietly. “Here we go.” He pulled two small pouches from a small cartridge box on his belt. From the first pouch he produced the silvery moon key and placed it on the altar. Then he opened the second pouch and retrieved the sun key with its spiny protruding rays. He held it out for Honour to take. “Don’t get any wise ideas about swallowing it,” he teased. Honour replied by sticking out her tongue. He picked up the moon key and took a deep breath. “We’ll place the keys in their respective sockets at the same time. You ready?” Honour held her key over the sun emblem on the lid of the chest and nodded. “On three, then.” He held his key over the moon emblem and began to count. “One, two... three.” Together they placed their keys firmly into the carved sockets on the chest’s lid and watched intently. Nothing happened. “Bloody hell,” Jack grumbled. He pulled out the journal and quickly flipped through its pages. “What’s wrong? Did we miss something?” asked Honour. He found the entry that explained how to open the chest and stabbed his finger at it. “There! Look, it says to place the chest on an altar, then put the keys in their proper spots in the lid. That’s what we did! How can this not work, when we’re so close?” Honour took the book from him. “What are you doing?” he demanded. “Putting a fresh pair of eyes on the problem. You go over there somewhere to stomp and rant, I’ll see what I can figure out.” Jack shook his head in frustration and gave her the space she asked for. He could not believe the horrible turn things had taken. How could he come all this way, just to fail?

Finally, they reached the bottom of the long staircase. The passageway had gone from being fairly narrow with high, straight walls, to a much wider space with walls that were smoothly curved. Apart from the steps, there was not a straight line to be seen. Jack and Honour found themselves in another anteroom, with round doorway before them. The doorway itself was rimmed with strange, evenly spaced ridges. The wall carvings had taken a similar organic turn in style. Even the colour of the stone seemed to have changed, from a nearly coral pink to a sickly translucent grey. “I never thought we would see the end of this staircase,” said Honour. “I wonder why they put everything so far underground? Wouldn’t it make more sense to build up?” “They transformed an entire island into a maze, love,” replied Jack as he inspected the doorway’s ridges. “I imagine building an underground complex would have been child’s play for them. We couldn’t even see the temple when we climbed those trees. I have a feeling that was by design. This was a special place only to be visited by specific people, not a general place of worship or commerce.” “Invitation only? All others shall be shot?” “I’ll slip the doorman a few coins if he makes a fuss. Shall we see what lies beyond?” “We’ve come this far. At least we’re out of that jungle heat. Is that a cool breeze I’m feeling?” “That it is. And notice the echo? There must be a cave of some sort. Let’s find out.” They stepped through the doorway and into a huge, open space. The light from Jack’s torch barely illuminated the walls to either side, and revealed nothing them and only stone floor reaching ahead. They set down the chest as they tried to get their bearings. “Oh my,” said Jack quietly. “This wasn’t in the journal.” “Not in the journal? How could this not be in the journal? How do you not notice something this big?” “I’m guessing certain details were left out in case the book fell into the wrong hands.” He held the torch up as high as he could as he looked at the walls. “Hints a clues only. Things that take sharp observation to sort out--- damn!” He recovered clumsily from stumbling over a ridge in the floor. “Sharper than than, I’m guessing,” chuckled Honour. “We’ll need a lot more torches at this rate.” “You may just get your wish. Here, hold the torch.” Jack retrieved a long pole that was stored in a socket in the floor near the doorway. On one end was a tarry ball of pitch. He held it to the torch until it ignited. As he held the long torch near one of the walls, he found a large bowl like protrusion with what appeared to be a wick about six feet off the floor. He touched the flame to it, and wick began to burn with a bright, steady flame. “I’ll be damned,” he laughed. “The oil is still good!” He went from one side of the huge chamber to the other, lighting the large lamps as he found them. Finally, eighteen lamps were shining brightly, their light reflecting off polished crystalline facets in the ceiling and illuminating the entire area. Honour stared in wonder at the architecture of the expansive chamber. In many ways, it rivalled the most opulent cathedrals of Europe in its grandeur. But she could not help be feel unsettled by the look and feel of the place. Arches in the ceiling had the appearance of protruding ribs, and even the bowls for the lamps looked as if they were being held by long, bony fingers. Six doorways, three to each side, had the same strange ridging as the chamber entrance, but on a larger scale. She felt almost as if they had wandered into the belly of some enormous stone beast rather than something made by human hands.

Jack emerged, blinking, into the sunlight. He tried to convince himself that he was merely seeing things, prompted by what Honour imagined she had seen. The power of suggestion. That had to be it. They were just carved stone faces. Incredibly, impossibly realistic stone faces. They couldn’t be anything more than that. Could they? Honour stood before him, trying to get the cobwebs out of her hair. “I’ve never dealt with anything so sticky in all my life,” she complained. “I’ll never get rid of this awful stuff.” She looked at Jack as she continued to pull at the stubborn strands of silk. “You saw it, didn’t you?” “Saw what?” “The faces. You caught them looking.” “What makes you say that?” “First, the look on your face. The one you always get when you find a puzzle you can’t solve or something you can’t explain.” “And the second?” “All your replies are questions.” “I really do that?” “Stop it. And yes, you do.” Satisfied she had removed most of the spider’s handiwork from her hair, she dusted her hands off on her breeches. “But we’ve come too far to let a little thing like a haunted temple stop us. That’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it?” Jack crossed his arms. “Fine, Madame Mind Reader. If you’re so certain what’s on my mind, what am I thinking now?” He cocked his eyebrow and smirked. Honour sighed. “What you’re always thinking about between every other thought in your head. And forget about it.” She pointed at the chest. “That’s the only chest you’re getting your hands on today.” “Ah, but there’s always tomorrow. You know what an optimist I am.” “Insufferable is more like it. Now, Captain, two doors left to try. Which one?” Jack walked back out into the courtyard area in front of the temple and regarded the structure. “Based strictly on the symmetry, I’d say the middle door is our way in. But just to be thorough...” He jogged up the other set of narrow steps and briefly looked into the doorway. Moments later he was descending the steps again. “Same decorator,” he announced. “You’d think they would enjoy a little variety. You could teach them a thing or two about wallpaper.” “What colour were their eyes?” Jack shook his head. “You know I usually order drinks before I get that personal.” “You noticed mine before any drinks were poured.” “You’ve always been the exception, my dear. Right from the start.” He slung his end of the chest’s harness over his shoulder. “Ready?” Honour reluctantly picked up her end, but stopped short of shouldering it. She looked up at Jack worriedly. “I’m scared, Jack. This place, this temple, those ghastly faces... all of it really frightens me.” “I know. And I know how very brave you can be.” “Aren’t you scared, even the least little bit?” He paused, then looked up at the sky. “It really is a beautiful day, don’t you think?” She shook her head, then shouldered her end of their golden burden. “Yeah. Just perfect.” The entered the central doorway of the temple and paused in a foyer-like space to let their eyes adjust. Jack held his torch aloft. The light flickered and danced on the intricate carvings in the walls. Before them was another doorway and a flight of stairs descending into the heart of the temple. “I hope these are the only snakes we see for the rest of the day,” remarked Jack. “Snakes?! You didn’t say anything about snakes!” “I’m sorry, I thought it was common knowledge that traipsing through a jungle implies the possibility of snakes. My fault for not being specific. I’ll revise the travel brochures.” “You know I hate snakes, Jack.” “Don’t worry, they won’t be any too pleased to see you either. Call it a draw.” “I should have stayed on the ship and sent Briggs along with you.” “You’ve seen him and Puddin’ together. I wouldn’t call Josiah a friend of the animals.” “Exactly why I should have sent him instead.” “You know you want to see what’s in this chest as much as I do.” “At the moment, not really.” Jack held his torch higher and looked through the inner doorway. “I can’t see a landing yet, but it can’t be too far down. Ready to press on?” “Might as well, as long as we’re here.” “That’s more like it. We’ll go slowly, and mind your step.” Slowly they descended the long stairway, being careful to place their feet carefully on each sand-covered step. “These carvings are incredible,” whispered Honour. “Why are you whispering?” Jack whispered back. “Because we’re in a temple?” “It’s not like we’re nipping off to the church basement to see what’s under each other’s choir robes. You can speak up.” “Oh, right. Why do I feel I just got a disturbing glimpse into your childhood?” “One has to start somewhere. You were saying about the artwork?” “The detail is amazing! I don’t know what a tenth of it means, but it’s strangely beautiful.” “The Ancients were ahead of their time in so many ways, love. I can’t even see seams between the stones. But they can’t have plastered over the walls, because you can’t carve plaster with much detail at all.” “And plaster would have crumbled by now. Jack, are the walls getting... rounder?” Jack stopped and looked behind then, then ahead again. Indeed, the shaft of the stairway was far less angular that it had been near the surface. “Well, that’s just damned odd. I’ve never seen anything like this before. Amazing technology.” “Jack, I’ve got an idea. Just hear me out...” “Honour, no. We are not going to use these carvings as inspiration for new wallpaper for the captain’s quarters.” “Oh.”