CHAPTER 30: THE RETURN
Port Royal's harbor was a forest of masts.
The Navy fleet had arrived ahead of us—faster ships, direct course, no battles with revenge-seeking pirates. They'd had days to spread the news of Barbossa's defeat, the curse's breaking, the treasure's recovery.
And Jack Sparrow's capture.
"He surrendered voluntarily," Gibbs explained as we watched the Pearl ease into anchorage. "Made a deal with Norrington. The crew goes free in exchange for Jack facing trial."
The execution, I thought. It's happening just like the films. Jack in chains, the gallows, Will's dramatic rescue.
Knowing how it ended didn't make watching it any easier.
"When's the trial?" I asked.
"Already done. Sentenced this morning." Gibbs's voice was heavy. "Execution's set for tomorrow at noon."
Tomorrow. Less than a day to prepare.
I slipped away from the crew as we docked, melting into Port Royal's crowded streets. The borrowed clothes I'd worn since resurrection were beginning to smell—I needed fresh ones before doing anything else.
A few quiet negotiations with harbor merchants provided sailor's garb that actually fit. The coins I'd stolen from the treasure cave would have paid for much more, but I wasn't foolish enough to spend cursed Aztec gold in a port where people might recognize it.
Keep them hidden, I reminded myself. They're insurance, not currency.
Clean clothes obtained, I found a quiet corner of a dockside tavern and ordered food.
The first proper meal in days.
I ate like a man starving—which, effectively, I was. Resurrection might rebuild the body, but it didn't fill the stomach. Salt cod, ship's biscuit, some kind of vegetable stew that tasted better than anything I'd eaten since arriving in this world.
My hands shook slightly as I lifted each bite. The accumulated stress of the past weeks was catching up with me—death, resurrection, battle, supernatural power discovery. A normal person would be curled in a corner crying.
I'm not normal anymore, I thought. Maybe I never was.
The food helped. So did the ale, though I limited myself to one cup. I needed my wits for what came next.
Will Turner found me that evening.
I'd stationed myself near the governor's mansion, watching guard patterns, counting marines, mapping the route from the prison to the gallows being constructed in the square. The information I already possessed from meta-knowledge needed verification—this world wasn't exactly like the films, and I couldn't afford to assume.
"Mr. Balmond." Will's voice was quiet, careful. "I hoped to find you here."
"Mr. Turner." I nodded toward the gallows. "Impressive construction. Norrington works fast."
"He wants this done before anyone has second thoughts." Will moved to stand beside me, his blacksmith's hands clenched at his sides. "Jack saved Elizabeth's life. Saved all our lives. And now they're going to hang him for piracy."
"The law doesn't care about context."
"The law is wrong."
I glanced at him—this young man who would become so much more than a blacksmith before his story ended. Who would eventually captain the Flying Dutchman, ferry souls of the dead, sacrifice everything for love.
He didn't know any of that yet. He only knew that a friend was going to die, and he couldn't accept it.
"You're planning something," I said. Not a question.
Will's jaw tightened. "I have a sword. I know the route they'll take from the prison to the gallows. If I can get to Jack before they reach the platform—"
"You'll die. Or be captured and hang beside him."
"Then I'll die trying to do what's right."
The words hung in the air between us. Noble. Foolish. Exactly what Will Turner would say.
I remembered the copper medallion he'd given me weeks ago—the handcrafted ship design, lost when I'd died on the beach. Lost like so many things in this new life of mine.
"You'll need help," I said.
"I can't ask you to risk—"
"You're not asking." I turned to face him fully. "Jack helped me when he didn't have to. Gave me a place when I had nothing. Whatever I am now, I owe him."
Will studied me for a moment—looking, perhaps, for the monster the crew whispered about. The man who couldn't stay dead. The sea's claimed servant.
Whatever he saw, it satisfied him.
"Tomorrow at noon," he said. "I'll position myself near the gallows. When they read the charges, I'll move."
"Too late. They'll have him on the platform by then." I shook my head. "Strike during the procession. The route passes through narrow streets—crowds will provide cover, guards will be spread thin."
"How do you know the route?"
"I've been watching." I gestured toward the prison. "They'll bring him out the east gate, march him through the market square, approach the gallows from the south. There's a point near the chandler's shop where only four guards will have clear sightlines."
Will's eyes widened. "You've done this before?"
"Not exactly. But I learn fast." I pulled a rough sketch from my pocket—the route, the guard positions, the optimal strike point. I'd drawn it during my meal, working from observation and meta-knowledge. "Take this. Study it tonight. Be in position by eleven."
He took the paper with something like reverence. "Why are you helping me?"
Because Jack's survival is my survival. Because the Fortune Link makes his life mine.
"Because it's the right thing to do," I said instead. "And because I want to see the look on Norrington's face when his prisoner escapes."
Will almost smiled. Almost.
"Tomorrow, then."
"Tomorrow."
He slipped away into the evening crowd. I watched him go, then turned back to my surveillance.
The gallows stood half-completed against the darkening sky. Workers had abandoned their posts for the night, leaving skeletal wooden beams reaching toward the stars.
Jack will stand there tomorrow, I thought. Will will save him. They'll jump over the cliff, swim to the Pearl, sail away into legend.
At least, that's how the story went.
In this world—my world now—nothing was guaranteed.
I pulled my coat tighter against the evening chill and continued watching.
By midnight, I knew every guard route, every shadow, every possible escape path.
Tomorrow, Jack Sparrow would cheat death once again.
And I would make sure of it.
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