FANFIC: Through a Glass Darkly - Chapter 16
Through a Glass Darkly
Chapter 16 - Devil in Consort
****
NIGHT loosen'd all the blackness of her hair,
Which fell about her in an ample cloud
Dropp'd with no jewels, veiling her blue eyes
In ebon fringes, and a sighing sound
Stole from her closed lips, as in unrest
She sway'd with slowest motion to and fro;
Then sat serene, and seem'd to search within
The abysses of her soul and memory vast,
And thoughts unknown to men; and wept her hours
(Her lovely starlit hours, choice gifts) defil'd
By evil, cruel thoughts, and bloodier deeds.
~Bessie Rayner Belloc
****
“She’s a man killer, I tell ya! I saw her, plain as yer sittin’ there!” Sadie’s hands trembled as she took the rum-laced coffee Davies offered her and took several long sips before resuming her tale. “He were dead, gutted like a wild hog.” Tears welled up in her eyes and she looked away.
“Who was dead?” Davies kept his voice gentle. No need to be startling the girl any further.
“The obeah man, has that place up by the creek, just past the cemetery.” The rum seemed to be helping; Sadie’s voice was stronger, more confident.
“What was a wench like you doin’ up in them woods by yerself that time of night?”
Sadie gave Davies a quick glance then turned away, her face reddening. “Lost my way, didn’t I?” She drew in the sand aimlessly with her finger, not looking up. “Was comin’ here. Took a wrong turn I guess.”
“And you happened to run into this man-killing wench along the way?” Davies tried to keep the skepticism from of his voice. He pointed to the numerous scratches covering her arms and legs. “Is that how ye get those marks?”
“Told you, I lost my way! When I saw her there, blood dripping from her mouth, I ran.” She ran her hands up and down her arms, hugging herself close. “Can’t blame a girl, can you? How was I t’know what’d she do next.” She shrugged and added with an impatient toss of her head, “Don’t know why yer so worried about me. You oughtta be lookin’ for Jack.” She shuddered and gave him a wide-eyed stare. “Fer all you know, Jack could be lying out there, dead and gutted like that obeah man.”
****
Jack was lying under a tall cotton tree, languid eyes gazing at the brilliant blue sky above. His companion sat off to one side, knees tight against her chest, arms encircling them as she rocked, a small smile on her face. No words were spoken, yet they conversed, their minds melding together.
Who are you…does it matter…I want to know you…I know you, that's all that matters…who are you… I am in you, part of you …I don’t even know your name …
“Aycayía.”
Jack sat up and stared wide-eyed. Her voice, it was her voice he’d heard. Melodic, soothing… like waves lapping against the shore.
“Aycayía?”
His voice sounded hoarse and harsh in contrast. Swallowing he tried again, softer. ”Aycayía.”
She smiled and nodded.
Jack stood up and raised his hands in triumph. “Finally! After all this time! Aycayía! Why not tell me before? Nothing to be ashamed of.” He cocked his head and grinned, eyes twinkling. “Aycayía. Lovely name that. And lovely voice, you should try using it more often.”
To his dismay the girl’s eyes welled up with tears and she began rocking harder, hugging herself tight.
“No, no, belay!” Jack knelt down and wrapped his arms around her, holding her against his chest as she sobbed silent tears. He awkwardly tried to comfort her, rubbing her back as he brushed his lips against her hair and murmured soothing words.
A cloud passed overhead, throwing them into shadow and bringing a slight chill in the wind. The hairs on the back of Jack’s neck prickled and he found his body responding to her presence, his desire aroused by her softness and vulnerability. His mouth sought hers, at first gentle but soon with a devouring need to consume. Possessed by the dual demons of greed and lust, he found himself ravishing her despite her frantic attempts to push him away. He was about to take her by force when the sound of men’s voices brought him crashing back to the surface of sanity.
“Over here!” The man’s cry echoed in the silence, startling a flock of birds into hurried flight.
Jack was suddenly aware of himself, on his knees panting, and looked in horror at the frightened girl beneath him. His mind swirled in fractured patterns of thoughts and images.
Take her! You know you want to. No. Don’t take her. What are you doing? She wants you, practically devoured you last night. Go ahead. Fair is fair. Your turn. No! BELAY! Why, Jackie? You know you want her. Pirate! Take what you can. Plunder the goods, Ravish…
“There! Thank God, Jack! Yer alive!”
Gibbs blundered into the clearing, with Davies and several others on his heels, all with cutlasses drawn, ready to engage in battle.
Jack stared unseeing at the men, trying to quell the clamoring voices in his head.
Too bad, Jackie. Maybe next time. No! Won’t be a next time. There will, you know it. You want her, you’ll take her. Take her. Take her. Just wait. Just wait, Jackie. Wait for the opportune time. Take what you can…
“Stop, just shut it! Go away!”
He didn’t realize he’d spoken aloud until he saw the looks on the men’s faces. Davies’ face showed what the rest were undoubtedly thinking: dismay... and a hint of disgust. Glancing down, Jack could see why.
The girl lay beneath him, eyes wide and frightened, tears streaming down her face. Her chemise was ripped open, as were Jack’s breeches, exposing his intent for all to see. Purplish bruises were forming on her slender arms where his fingers had dug into her flesh. Not a pretty sight.
“Well, gents, I can see Captain Sparrow is not in need of rescuing after all.” The contempt in Davies’ voice was unmistakable. He gave Jack a direct look. “When you are finished with the wench you might want to check on your ship. There was a disturbance in the night.” With that he turned on his heel and stomped off without another glance Jack’s way.
“Cap’n?” Gibbs queried, tentative.
Jack slowly sat back, his steady gaze on the girl, expecting her to bolt at the first chance. Instead, she rolled on her side and curled into a ball, her thin shoulders shaking from silent sobs.
The remainder of the men shuffled silently away, leaving only Gibbs. Hand thrust in his pockets, he scuffed the toe of his boot in the sand, obvious embarrassment on his face.
Jack stood up and adjusted his clothing, his eyes black and bleak. Drained, he rubbed his face with his hands in bewilderment. “Go ahead, say it, “he said bluntly. “Ain’t like I’m not feeling it. You think me a depraved bastard, no better than Barbossa, or the rest of them bloody blaggards.”
“Seen worse,” Gibbs mumbled. “Not like you t’ use force, ‘tis all.”
“Not meself, not then. Don’t know what it was, where it came from.” Jack shook his head to try and clear his thoughts. He looked Gibbs in the eye, his voice shaky. “Whatever it was, it will be back.”
****
Henry Jennings set sail with his fleet of two ships, three sloops, and some 300 men for the east coast of Florida on the dawn’s tide, their goal to locate the Spanish treasure camp and make off with the salvaged gold. Frank Davies stood on the shore and watched with mixed emotions as the fleet make its way out the over the bar and through the mouth of the harbor.
“Missin’ the best damn opportunity I’ll ever see for easy plunder,” he said to no one in particular, being quite alone on the beach. The camps had all but been abandoned, left to the scavengers: the gulls, and mongrel dogs, along with the ragged urchins and whores that seemed to follow the men wherever they roamed.
Davies turned and glanced up the beach, where the crew of the Black Pearl were busily righting the ship. Her captain had reappeared, young woman in tow, without an explanation or excuse, and just began immediately barking orders to make haste and prepare to make way. For all the years he’d known Jack Sparrow, and all the ventures they’d been on, Frank Davies found himself worried for the first time. Something had gone terribly wrong that time Jack had sailed off with Black Bellamy. And something was terribly wrong now.
****
It was dusk before the crew of the Black Pearl had her upright and afloat once more. The incoming evening tide helped them complete their task, allowing them to guide the ship out into the deeper waters of the bay. Now, the black ship sat serenely at anchor, her sails neatly reefed, as the sun dipped below the sea, leaving only a smattering of pink-tinged clouds behind. Her reluctant crew, still muttering about the ship being cursed, did not linger, retreating up the beach to their camps.
Jack chose to stay with the Pearl, bringing the girl along as a precaution. Even though he no longer trusted himself to be alone with her, he trusted the others even less. Gibbs and Davies had accompanied him to the ship and the three of them sat around the table in the Great Cabin, the girl huddled on the bench beneath the stern windows. The air was thick with tension and unspoken accusations.
Jack was the first to speak, choosing to break the ice on his own terms. “Go ahead, say what you’re bloody thinking.”
Davies took a pull on his pipe and leaned back. “Not much to say, Jack. Pretty obvious what you’re fighting. Best take Teach’s advice and go see that obeah woman.”
Jack scowled at him. “Not so bloody obvious to me. If you known I had this so-called ghost infestation, you should have bloody well spoken up.”
He sulked in silence, not pleased with them, and less pleased with himself.
“We did Cap’n.” Gibbs said in a low voice. “Didn’t want to hear it, then.”
“Like I bloody well want to hear it now?!” Jack’s shouting startled the girl, who cringed and huddled further into the corner. He glanced at her, his expression softening and he added in a quieter voice, “She didn’t deserve it, what I did. No matter what Sadie and the others are saying, the girl’s no more a man-killer than the Pearl.”
Jack ran his hand over his face and grabbed the bottle of rum, taking several large swallows before setting it down with a thump. “Don’t trust meself with her anymore,” he said half to himself, his tone angry. “Bloody hell!”
“Want me to keep her with me, Jack?” Davies nodded toward the girl as he tapped the ash from his pipe and stowed it in his pocket. ”She can stay on the Tess. None of them likely to be bothering with her after what Sadie told ‘em.”
Jack sighed, hunched over the table, with his head propped in his hands. “Probably for the best, Frank. Seems I owe you a lot.”
Davies chuckled. “You’d do the same if it were me and ye know it. We’ll get ye cured, Jack. Seen ye through worse, haven’t I?” He smiled at the girl. “Ever find out her name?”
Jack glanced over at her, a silent tear trickling down her cheek. “Said her name was Aycayía.”
At the sound of her name she looked up, a glimmer of hope flashed in her eyes before the sorrow returned.
“Aycayía?” Davies sat back and stroked his beard. “Interesting name. There’s a local legend about a girl named Aycayía, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Aye.” Gibbs said. “She of the Beautiful Voice. That’s what it means, Aycayía.”
“She of the beautiful voice,” Jack repeated, remote in thought. “Yet this Aycayía is mute.”
Gibbs nodded. “She would be, if she were the girl of the legend.” He leaned forward, eyes brightened with the opportunity to relate the tale. “You see, the tale is that, among the Ciboney people, there lived Aycayía, She of the Beautiful Voice. ‘Tis said she was so beautiful, her siren’s voice so enticin’, that all the men of the village would stop whatever they was doin’ just to listen, forsaking their wives to sit at the feet of Aycayía as she sang and danced. Well, as you can imagine, this didn’t sit too well with all those wives. The elders of the village, beset by pleas from the women, banished Aycayía to an isolated island, with only the ancient crone, Guanayo as a companion.”
“Marooned, were she?” Jack glanced over at the girl. With one hand pressed against the glass, she was staring out the window at the moonlit sea beyond. Without taking his eyes away Jack asked in a low voice, “What happened to her?”
Gibbs lowered his voice as well. “Now as fate would have it, a huge storm swallowed ‘em up afore they ever reached that island. It’s said that Aycayía, now mute, was transformed into a mermaid and the old crone a sea turtle on whose back Aycayía rides the seas to this day.”
“Aycayía, beauty and sin incarnate,” Davies recited, nodding in recollection. “Aycayía, who give men pleasure but robs them of will. Aycayía, eternally doomed to wander the raging sea.”
“If you believe such things,” Gibbs added.
Jack studied the girl, his mind a confused whirl of emotions. “Not sure what to believe anymore,” he said with resignation.
****
“The girl’s a bloody succubus, I’m tellin’ ye.” Ed Teach was stretched out in the sand near the campfire, his hands folded beneath his head as he stared up at the star-filled sky. “Sparrow drug her back with him from Florida, and has been suffering the consequences ever since. Bloody demon’s got him by his balls.”
One of his men poked nervously at the fire with a stick, shaking his head in disagreement. “Nah, Ed, I say she’s one of them zombies that bokor’s been raising over on the other side of the island. Heard tell there’s quite a market for ‘em.”
“What’s to stop her from killin’ us like she did that obeah man?” another piped in. “I say we do her in ‘fore she kills us all.”
“Won’t do no good if she’s a zombie, would it? She’d be already dead!”
Teach sat up and shook his shaggy mane. “The girl ain’t gonna kill none of ye. Most she’ll do is fuck the life out of ye in yer sleep.” He laughed, and said with a gleam in his eye, “Not such a bad thing; I can think of worse ways t’ go.”
“Well, I don’t like it, Ed.” The ship’s carpenter spat into the fire. “And, if what Sadie says is true, it could be one of us next.” He turned and stared out across the black water of the bay. “Unless that black sea-witch of a ship of his don’t kill us first.”
Teach stood up with an angry swipe of his hand. “Keep this here talk up and it won’t be no girl nor ship killin’ none of ye,” he growled. “I’ll do the deed meself.” He rummaged around and found a bottle of rum, uncorked it with his teeth, and spat the cork out into the sand. “I didn’t turn down a chance at all that Spanish gold, just to be gutted like a pig by a suck-you-bye. We need t’ be getting Sparrow cured of his affliction, so we can go after that treasure I spoke of. That’s what you need be worryin’ about.”
He stared out at the black ship barely discernable against the night sky. “You gents just worry about getting us there. Let me worry about Sparrow and that girl.”
****
Frank Davies tossed fitfully in his sleep. His mind was troubled and he’d had a hard time drifting off. Images of the girl were haunting his dreams…images of her sprawled helplessly on the ground, so fragile, like a beautiful butterfly caught in a spider’s web. Quivering limbs, trembling lips…he wanted to take her and protect her and hold her close, and…
He was dreaming. Or was he? He felt her first, her presence upon him. Warm lips sought his, as hands traveled across his chest and ran down his sides, searching, exploring, finding their prize. Arching his back, he gasped as she slipped her hand into his breeches, finding his cock hard and throbbing. Her fingers raked along the length, drawing another cry of pain and then pleasure, her grasp harder and firmer with each stroke.
Moving downward, she slithered along his body, pulling and ripping his shirt away, until her mouth found bare skin. Biting and nipping, sucking his nipples as if he were a wench, she drew exquisite, agonizing pleasure with her teeth as they bit harder. Her hand never stopped, stroking and squeezing, as her mouth roamed lower. He tried to open his eyes, to take a breath, to say something, but could only muster whimpers of delight and torment, as her mouth descended upon him.
Never before had he experienced this combination of pain and pleasure. Her teeth scraped, yet her tongue soothed. Over and over, she impaled herself upon his cock, her throat opening wide to take his entire length in. When it seemed he could bear it no longer, the torment stopped. And, as suddenly as she had appeared, she was gone.
Alone, his cock raw and throbbing, he woke to the wetness of raindrops, or were they tears, on his face. He finished with his own hand what she had begun. Hissing through clenched teeth he endured the pain for the fleeting pleasure it would bring.
****
Chapter 16 - Devil in Consort
****
NIGHT loosen'd all the blackness of her hair,
Which fell about her in an ample cloud
Dropp'd with no jewels, veiling her blue eyes
In ebon fringes, and a sighing sound
Stole from her closed lips, as in unrest
She sway'd with slowest motion to and fro;
Then sat serene, and seem'd to search within
The abysses of her soul and memory vast,
And thoughts unknown to men; and wept her hours
(Her lovely starlit hours, choice gifts) defil'd
By evil, cruel thoughts, and bloodier deeds.
~Bessie Rayner Belloc
****
“She’s a man killer, I tell ya! I saw her, plain as yer sittin’ there!” Sadie’s hands trembled as she took the rum-laced coffee Davies offered her and took several long sips before resuming her tale. “He were dead, gutted like a wild hog.” Tears welled up in her eyes and she looked away.
“Who was dead?” Davies kept his voice gentle. No need to be startling the girl any further.
“The obeah man, has that place up by the creek, just past the cemetery.” The rum seemed to be helping; Sadie’s voice was stronger, more confident.
“What was a wench like you doin’ up in them woods by yerself that time of night?”
Sadie gave Davies a quick glance then turned away, her face reddening. “Lost my way, didn’t I?” She drew in the sand aimlessly with her finger, not looking up. “Was comin’ here. Took a wrong turn I guess.”
“And you happened to run into this man-killing wench along the way?” Davies tried to keep the skepticism from of his voice. He pointed to the numerous scratches covering her arms and legs. “Is that how ye get those marks?”
“Told you, I lost my way! When I saw her there, blood dripping from her mouth, I ran.” She ran her hands up and down her arms, hugging herself close. “Can’t blame a girl, can you? How was I t’know what’d she do next.” She shrugged and added with an impatient toss of her head, “Don’t know why yer so worried about me. You oughtta be lookin’ for Jack.” She shuddered and gave him a wide-eyed stare. “Fer all you know, Jack could be lying out there, dead and gutted like that obeah man.”
****
Jack was lying under a tall cotton tree, languid eyes gazing at the brilliant blue sky above. His companion sat off to one side, knees tight against her chest, arms encircling them as she rocked, a small smile on her face. No words were spoken, yet they conversed, their minds melding together.
Who are you…does it matter…I want to know you…I know you, that's all that matters…who are you… I am in you, part of you …I don’t even know your name …
“Aycayía.”
Jack sat up and stared wide-eyed. Her voice, it was her voice he’d heard. Melodic, soothing… like waves lapping against the shore.
“Aycayía?”
His voice sounded hoarse and harsh in contrast. Swallowing he tried again, softer. ”Aycayía.”
She smiled and nodded.
Jack stood up and raised his hands in triumph. “Finally! After all this time! Aycayía! Why not tell me before? Nothing to be ashamed of.” He cocked his head and grinned, eyes twinkling. “Aycayía. Lovely name that. And lovely voice, you should try using it more often.”
To his dismay the girl’s eyes welled up with tears and she began rocking harder, hugging herself tight.
“No, no, belay!” Jack knelt down and wrapped his arms around her, holding her against his chest as she sobbed silent tears. He awkwardly tried to comfort her, rubbing her back as he brushed his lips against her hair and murmured soothing words.
A cloud passed overhead, throwing them into shadow and bringing a slight chill in the wind. The hairs on the back of Jack’s neck prickled and he found his body responding to her presence, his desire aroused by her softness and vulnerability. His mouth sought hers, at first gentle but soon with a devouring need to consume. Possessed by the dual demons of greed and lust, he found himself ravishing her despite her frantic attempts to push him away. He was about to take her by force when the sound of men’s voices brought him crashing back to the surface of sanity.
“Over here!” The man’s cry echoed in the silence, startling a flock of birds into hurried flight.
Jack was suddenly aware of himself, on his knees panting, and looked in horror at the frightened girl beneath him. His mind swirled in fractured patterns of thoughts and images.
Take her! You know you want to. No. Don’t take her. What are you doing? She wants you, practically devoured you last night. Go ahead. Fair is fair. Your turn. No! BELAY! Why, Jackie? You know you want her. Pirate! Take what you can. Plunder the goods, Ravish…
“There! Thank God, Jack! Yer alive!”
Gibbs blundered into the clearing, with Davies and several others on his heels, all with cutlasses drawn, ready to engage in battle.
Jack stared unseeing at the men, trying to quell the clamoring voices in his head.
Too bad, Jackie. Maybe next time. No! Won’t be a next time. There will, you know it. You want her, you’ll take her. Take her. Take her. Just wait. Just wait, Jackie. Wait for the opportune time. Take what you can…
“Stop, just shut it! Go away!”
He didn’t realize he’d spoken aloud until he saw the looks on the men’s faces. Davies’ face showed what the rest were undoubtedly thinking: dismay... and a hint of disgust. Glancing down, Jack could see why.
The girl lay beneath him, eyes wide and frightened, tears streaming down her face. Her chemise was ripped open, as were Jack’s breeches, exposing his intent for all to see. Purplish bruises were forming on her slender arms where his fingers had dug into her flesh. Not a pretty sight.
“Well, gents, I can see Captain Sparrow is not in need of rescuing after all.” The contempt in Davies’ voice was unmistakable. He gave Jack a direct look. “When you are finished with the wench you might want to check on your ship. There was a disturbance in the night.” With that he turned on his heel and stomped off without another glance Jack’s way.
“Cap’n?” Gibbs queried, tentative.
Jack slowly sat back, his steady gaze on the girl, expecting her to bolt at the first chance. Instead, she rolled on her side and curled into a ball, her thin shoulders shaking from silent sobs.
The remainder of the men shuffled silently away, leaving only Gibbs. Hand thrust in his pockets, he scuffed the toe of his boot in the sand, obvious embarrassment on his face.
Jack stood up and adjusted his clothing, his eyes black and bleak. Drained, he rubbed his face with his hands in bewilderment. “Go ahead, say it, “he said bluntly. “Ain’t like I’m not feeling it. You think me a depraved bastard, no better than Barbossa, or the rest of them bloody blaggards.”
“Seen worse,” Gibbs mumbled. “Not like you t’ use force, ‘tis all.”
“Not meself, not then. Don’t know what it was, where it came from.” Jack shook his head to try and clear his thoughts. He looked Gibbs in the eye, his voice shaky. “Whatever it was, it will be back.”
****
Henry Jennings set sail with his fleet of two ships, three sloops, and some 300 men for the east coast of Florida on the dawn’s tide, their goal to locate the Spanish treasure camp and make off with the salvaged gold. Frank Davies stood on the shore and watched with mixed emotions as the fleet make its way out the over the bar and through the mouth of the harbor.
“Missin’ the best damn opportunity I’ll ever see for easy plunder,” he said to no one in particular, being quite alone on the beach. The camps had all but been abandoned, left to the scavengers: the gulls, and mongrel dogs, along with the ragged urchins and whores that seemed to follow the men wherever they roamed.
Davies turned and glanced up the beach, where the crew of the Black Pearl were busily righting the ship. Her captain had reappeared, young woman in tow, without an explanation or excuse, and just began immediately barking orders to make haste and prepare to make way. For all the years he’d known Jack Sparrow, and all the ventures they’d been on, Frank Davies found himself worried for the first time. Something had gone terribly wrong that time Jack had sailed off with Black Bellamy. And something was terribly wrong now.
****
It was dusk before the crew of the Black Pearl had her upright and afloat once more. The incoming evening tide helped them complete their task, allowing them to guide the ship out into the deeper waters of the bay. Now, the black ship sat serenely at anchor, her sails neatly reefed, as the sun dipped below the sea, leaving only a smattering of pink-tinged clouds behind. Her reluctant crew, still muttering about the ship being cursed, did not linger, retreating up the beach to their camps.
Jack chose to stay with the Pearl, bringing the girl along as a precaution. Even though he no longer trusted himself to be alone with her, he trusted the others even less. Gibbs and Davies had accompanied him to the ship and the three of them sat around the table in the Great Cabin, the girl huddled on the bench beneath the stern windows. The air was thick with tension and unspoken accusations.
Jack was the first to speak, choosing to break the ice on his own terms. “Go ahead, say what you’re bloody thinking.”
Davies took a pull on his pipe and leaned back. “Not much to say, Jack. Pretty obvious what you’re fighting. Best take Teach’s advice and go see that obeah woman.”
Jack scowled at him. “Not so bloody obvious to me. If you known I had this so-called ghost infestation, you should have bloody well spoken up.”
He sulked in silence, not pleased with them, and less pleased with himself.
“We did Cap’n.” Gibbs said in a low voice. “Didn’t want to hear it, then.”
“Like I bloody well want to hear it now?!” Jack’s shouting startled the girl, who cringed and huddled further into the corner. He glanced at her, his expression softening and he added in a quieter voice, “She didn’t deserve it, what I did. No matter what Sadie and the others are saying, the girl’s no more a man-killer than the Pearl.”
Jack ran his hand over his face and grabbed the bottle of rum, taking several large swallows before setting it down with a thump. “Don’t trust meself with her anymore,” he said half to himself, his tone angry. “Bloody hell!”
“Want me to keep her with me, Jack?” Davies nodded toward the girl as he tapped the ash from his pipe and stowed it in his pocket. ”She can stay on the Tess. None of them likely to be bothering with her after what Sadie told ‘em.”
Jack sighed, hunched over the table, with his head propped in his hands. “Probably for the best, Frank. Seems I owe you a lot.”
Davies chuckled. “You’d do the same if it were me and ye know it. We’ll get ye cured, Jack. Seen ye through worse, haven’t I?” He smiled at the girl. “Ever find out her name?”
Jack glanced over at her, a silent tear trickling down her cheek. “Said her name was Aycayía.”
At the sound of her name she looked up, a glimmer of hope flashed in her eyes before the sorrow returned.
“Aycayía?” Davies sat back and stroked his beard. “Interesting name. There’s a local legend about a girl named Aycayía, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Aye.” Gibbs said. “She of the Beautiful Voice. That’s what it means, Aycayía.”
“She of the beautiful voice,” Jack repeated, remote in thought. “Yet this Aycayía is mute.”
Gibbs nodded. “She would be, if she were the girl of the legend.” He leaned forward, eyes brightened with the opportunity to relate the tale. “You see, the tale is that, among the Ciboney people, there lived Aycayía, She of the Beautiful Voice. ‘Tis said she was so beautiful, her siren’s voice so enticin’, that all the men of the village would stop whatever they was doin’ just to listen, forsaking their wives to sit at the feet of Aycayía as she sang and danced. Well, as you can imagine, this didn’t sit too well with all those wives. The elders of the village, beset by pleas from the women, banished Aycayía to an isolated island, with only the ancient crone, Guanayo as a companion.”
“Marooned, were she?” Jack glanced over at the girl. With one hand pressed against the glass, she was staring out the window at the moonlit sea beyond. Without taking his eyes away Jack asked in a low voice, “What happened to her?”
Gibbs lowered his voice as well. “Now as fate would have it, a huge storm swallowed ‘em up afore they ever reached that island. It’s said that Aycayía, now mute, was transformed into a mermaid and the old crone a sea turtle on whose back Aycayía rides the seas to this day.”
“Aycayía, beauty and sin incarnate,” Davies recited, nodding in recollection. “Aycayía, who give men pleasure but robs them of will. Aycayía, eternally doomed to wander the raging sea.”
“If you believe such things,” Gibbs added.
Jack studied the girl, his mind a confused whirl of emotions. “Not sure what to believe anymore,” he said with resignation.
****
“The girl’s a bloody succubus, I’m tellin’ ye.” Ed Teach was stretched out in the sand near the campfire, his hands folded beneath his head as he stared up at the star-filled sky. “Sparrow drug her back with him from Florida, and has been suffering the consequences ever since. Bloody demon’s got him by his balls.”
One of his men poked nervously at the fire with a stick, shaking his head in disagreement. “Nah, Ed, I say she’s one of them zombies that bokor’s been raising over on the other side of the island. Heard tell there’s quite a market for ‘em.”
“What’s to stop her from killin’ us like she did that obeah man?” another piped in. “I say we do her in ‘fore she kills us all.”
“Won’t do no good if she’s a zombie, would it? She’d be already dead!”
Teach sat up and shook his shaggy mane. “The girl ain’t gonna kill none of ye. Most she’ll do is fuck the life out of ye in yer sleep.” He laughed, and said with a gleam in his eye, “Not such a bad thing; I can think of worse ways t’ go.”
“Well, I don’t like it, Ed.” The ship’s carpenter spat into the fire. “And, if what Sadie says is true, it could be one of us next.” He turned and stared out across the black water of the bay. “Unless that black sea-witch of a ship of his don’t kill us first.”
Teach stood up with an angry swipe of his hand. “Keep this here talk up and it won’t be no girl nor ship killin’ none of ye,” he growled. “I’ll do the deed meself.” He rummaged around and found a bottle of rum, uncorked it with his teeth, and spat the cork out into the sand. “I didn’t turn down a chance at all that Spanish gold, just to be gutted like a pig by a suck-you-bye. We need t’ be getting Sparrow cured of his affliction, so we can go after that treasure I spoke of. That’s what you need be worryin’ about.”
He stared out at the black ship barely discernable against the night sky. “You gents just worry about getting us there. Let me worry about Sparrow and that girl.”
****
Frank Davies tossed fitfully in his sleep. His mind was troubled and he’d had a hard time drifting off. Images of the girl were haunting his dreams…images of her sprawled helplessly on the ground, so fragile, like a beautiful butterfly caught in a spider’s web. Quivering limbs, trembling lips…he wanted to take her and protect her and hold her close, and…
He was dreaming. Or was he? He felt her first, her presence upon him. Warm lips sought his, as hands traveled across his chest and ran down his sides, searching, exploring, finding their prize. Arching his back, he gasped as she slipped her hand into his breeches, finding his cock hard and throbbing. Her fingers raked along the length, drawing another cry of pain and then pleasure, her grasp harder and firmer with each stroke.
Moving downward, she slithered along his body, pulling and ripping his shirt away, until her mouth found bare skin. Biting and nipping, sucking his nipples as if he were a wench, she drew exquisite, agonizing pleasure with her teeth as they bit harder. Her hand never stopped, stroking and squeezing, as her mouth roamed lower. He tried to open his eyes, to take a breath, to say something, but could only muster whimpers of delight and torment, as her mouth descended upon him.
Never before had he experienced this combination of pain and pleasure. Her teeth scraped, yet her tongue soothed. Over and over, she impaled herself upon his cock, her throat opening wide to take his entire length in. When it seemed he could bear it no longer, the torment stopped. And, as suddenly as she had appeared, she was gone.
Alone, his cock raw and throbbing, he woke to the wetness of raindrops, or were they tears, on his face. He finished with his own hand what she had begun. Hissing through clenched teeth he endured the pain for the fleeting pleasure it would bring.
****