Chapter 39: Nightshade

I lay on the warm grass twixt my brother and my Spaniard. To their sides lay their respective company: Cord to Hernán's right and our new and peppy friend, Caiomhe, who, to the surprise of every single man in our crew, was none other than Tom O'Brien's sister.

I squirmed under the radiant sunlight, troubled by Jack's plans for stealing the diamond that waited for us there in Ireland. None of my other comrades seemed particularly worried about the way Jack decided to approach the venture, but that was because they were too distracted by our present environment and its accompanying population. In fact, the only Irishman in our crew was currently planning a homecoming party for himself in his home village, of which our entire crew was now welcomed to as temporary guests. The placement worked well for everyone else, but not me. I could not have been more agitated.

Of course, I had voiced my disagreements to no avail. Usually, I would have dropped the issue, but I could not when the subject pertained to was my daft, pirate father.

"Why is he doing this?" I asked. I received no valuable reply. Roland was clearly absorbed in Caiomhe's watery-green eyes, Hernán was mindlessly plucking grass blades while looking up at the drifting clouds, and Cord was occupied weaving a crown of flowers.

"For Christ's sake!" I burst, giving both men beside me a good swat. They were jolted out of their daydreams and set their angry eyes on me. "Aren't any of you concerned that Jack has decided to do this mission byhimself? Gibbs and Ana Maria aren't even with him, and he trusts them the most out of anyone!"

"Astrid, you selfish pig," Roland retorted. "You can't expect to take part in all of these adventures. Has it ever crossed your thick skull that perhaps we're not needed to get this gem?" He rolled over so that he faced his darling Irishwoman again.

Caiomhe (who kindly informed me that her name is pronounced kee-vah) took pity on me and jabbed Roland good in the ribs. She propped her freckled face up on the palms of her hands and looked over Roland at me.

"I'm sure yer da has his reasons, Astrid," she said, noticing a weed stuck in her red hair and, distracted, yanked it out and chucked it at Roland's face. "I'm sure he'll be jus' fine. He's a big boy, ain't he, eh?"

Everyone chuckled at the last comment. I contemplated getting crosser over the matter, but Caiomhe had a point. It was silly for a girl to worry over what her grown father did. Plus, I told myself that there were many things Jack probably did behind my back that I'd rather not ever be exposed to.

We were interrupted further by Tom's booming laughter as he sauntered down the hill towards our little posse.

In his own tongue, he told Caiomhe to go help their maimeó, or grandmum, with some of the cooking for his celebration that evening. Roland, tied to his new love interest like a helpless puppy, accompanied Caiomhe up the hill and into her grandmother's cottage. Meanwhile, Tom gave Cord and Hernán one swift look and they got up and left me, one slower than the other.

O'Brien slid into a spot beside me on the grass and grinned.

"It's not going to work," I told him. "I've seen you prancin' about your village with all your past lovers giggling at your heels."

His grin remained. Well, he ain't going to attempt to deny them, that's for sure.

"I could say a lot about you, too, bonnie," he replied, keeping his voice low. "What was that fop's name what was callin' you in South Africa? Griffith, is it? God knows what you two—"

He didn't get any further because I had pinched his lips shut with my forefinger and thumb. That's right. I dare you to say more, Irishman.

"What happened between me and him stays that way, savvy? It's not some thrillin' gossip ye can vomit back to yer whores." I got up on my feet and stomped away, and I could feel Tom's eyes boring into my back as I left him where he sat. I only managed to rub it off my mind when I heard him yell:

"By the way, lovey! Jack's back in the village!"

I flung myself back into the heart of the little Irish establishment, scanning all faces for one of Jack's trademark characteristics—the beard, the hair, the scarf. After some searching, I found him down at a bottom of another hill talking with, out of all people, my brother.

"I'd leave them alone, if I were you."

I turned to find Hernán leaning against an old abandoned well at the top of the hill. He was doing his usual snooping around, which was nothing less than what we expected from our delegated spy.

I took his advice and approached him by the well, sitting my bum on the aged stone rim and keeping my balance by sticking both my hands on the worn, corroded rocks. He glanced at me briefly and, thinking I wouldn't notice, took a step to the side.

"You dealt with your Irishman rather quickly," he remarked.

"I'm in no mood for his games," I replied. "There's plenty of time for that during the party tonight." He smirked as he looked off at Roland and Jack.

"I don't understand why time has anything to do with it. You had plenty of time for that in South Africa, didn't you?"

I growled and crossed my arms.

"Nothing happened. What do you think I am, Dago?"

"Diseased," he answered readily. "I won't even touch on the subject of the man who stopped you at the docks in Cape Town." He inched further away.

I made the mistake of lunging out to grab his sleeve, but he wasn't expecting the move and reacted defensively, elbowing me in the face and pushing me backwards—straight for a ride down the old, reeking well. He realized his error too late, although he had tried to catch me. He even had a piece of my ripped skirt in his hands when he turned around to see if anyone had noticed what he did. Meanwhile, I landed on my side in a cool, pungent, stinking puddle, and I was certain that I heard a couple of cracks echo among the stones when I hit the bottom. My head throbbed and I could taste the familiar bittersweet flavor of blood in my mouth.

From below, I could hear people's voices coming up the hill to see what had happened, since I had let out one hell of a scream.

'Astrid fell down the well?' echoed to my ears.

It was Jack.

'That's wonderful!'

xXx

I couldn't go to the party that night for obvious reasons. When Roland had retrieved me from the well, the entire right side of my body ached. I could barely even walk. Caiomhe suggested I take rest at her grandmum's cottage, and I was placed on a spare cot in Caiomhe's room after she and Cord had washed the blood from my face and hair and clothed me in one of Caiomhe's old frocks.

The blood, thankfully, was not my own. I realized while I was waiting for rescue that a dead sheep was rotting in the well with me. Its head was almost decapitated and it stared at me with its dead, amber eyes as I wallowed in its bloody filth. Roland had seen it when he came to get me, and he deduced that it was probably killed by a dog or wolf.

Caiomhe disagreed.

"There haven't been wolves in Ireland for decades, Roland," she said. "And why would the poor lamb have fallen down the well? It doesn't make sense." She looked at my brother with worry weaved over her knitted brow.

My brother just shrugged.

"Well, it's just a dead sheep," he replied, failing to comfort her. "It's nothing to mull over."

Everyone's worries were quelled when the party actually got started. I could hear the music and the laughter and the shouts of joy as I lay in Caiomhe's bedroom, and I cursed the Spaniard repeatedly in my head because I could not attend. Tom was probably dancing and getting drunk with all twenty of his fair maidens, while I was stuck with several injuries.

The following morning dawned quietly. Usually Caiomhe's grandmum, Úna, was up at that hour sweeping her house and making breakfast, but even the old lady had a festive spirit and had eaten and laughed and drank well into the night. Of course, I was awake, and nothing could come of it because half my body was broken. And if not broken, then it sure as hell felt like it was.

In fact, the first sound of a moving human did not come from any of the villagers. It came from a visitor who had entered the little town upon horseback and, of all places to stop, had knocked on Maimeó Úna's door.

No one answered, and the fellow waiting outside yelled to catch our attention.

"Hello? I believe you have an injured person in your house. I'm here to inspect her injuries!" It was followed with more knocking, and the thumps against the door grew progressively louder.

I sat up without realizing it, and as I let out a groan at the pain, someone had finally woken up and opened the door.

"Oh, hello, Doctor."

It was Caiomhe. She hadn't slept in her room, and I figured she had slept somewhere on the floor after passing out from the party.

"I'm sorry about the delay," she said tiredly. "We weren't expecting you."

"Forgive me, Miss O'Brien," apologized the doctor, "but a man had informed me in town that his daughter was in need of medical assistance."

Ah, so Jack remembered after all.

Before long, everyone in the house, which included Cordelia and Roland, were up, and while Caiomhe and her grandmum went to be hospitable hosts to the newly arrived doctor, Roland came into my room, his hair a mess, his eyes red and puffy, and his shirt wrinkled and loose. I did not have to ask him what he did last night.

"Morning, sister," he yawned, stumbling over to my bedside and drawing a chair to sit in. He stated the obvious. "Doctor's here to take a look at you."

I could have replied with a bitter, "Yes, I know. I heard him," but I didn't. Caiomhe had entered the room after a soft tap on the door and with her was the doctor. My jaw had promptly dropped upon seeing my medic, and Roland thoughtfully reminded me of my blatant display of surprise with a slap on my chin.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Sparrow," beamed the doctor, shaking my left hand—my good hand. I managed my widest, fakest smile. "I'm Faolán Cavanaugh. I'm here to make sure you haven't broken half of your body with that unpleasant accident of yours."

Ha! Accident! I highly doubt it, dear doctor.

"Did you say your name was Cavanaugh?" Roland questioned, tweaking me from my cow-eyed stare at the young physician.

Doctor Faolán's uncannily bright green eyes widened with a spark of delight, and he parted his lips over his very white teeth.

"Yes. I'm guessing you've met a fellow Cavanaugh recently?"

"Worked with, actually," I joined in. "Dr. David Cavanaugh. Ship's surgeon of the HMS Resolve."

Doctor Faolán closed his lips but kept the smile, and he set his leather kit of medical tools and supplies on a nightstand. Roland got up from his seat to offer it to the doctor, and as soon as he was seated, he leaned forward, looked at me, and said:

"My uncle failed to mention having female assistants in his travels. Is that common in that navy of yours? If so, I may leave town to offer my services."

Roland snorted. I laughed. And the doctor continued smiling.

After some very thorough inspections in the privacy of Caiomhe's room, my injures were recorded as thus: right arm broken in two places, wrist fracture, sprained ankle, torn ligament in the knee and possible pelvic bone fracture. When Dr. Faolán had read the list aloud, I was imagining ways to exact my revenge on Hernán.

"I'll have to wait until all of this bruising has diminished," said Faolán, grimacing as he traced a finger over the massive purple blotch spreading over my thigh. If my leg was a map of the world, the bruise would most definitely be the monstrously hulking continent of Asia. "Before then, however, I can't ensure that you do not have a broken hip, dear girl."

"Shall I be bed ridden for the next two months, then?" I asked.

"I can treat your arm, wrist, knee and ankle, and I can give you a remedy to cope with the pain, but your pelvis is what troubles me." His eyes were still concentrated on my waist, and I wondered if he dealt with cases like this on a daily basis. It wouldn't be difficult to understand if many of the village's young ladies had purposely injured themselves to earn just one visit from him. He was gentle in his examinations, courteous, and precise. He knew what he was doing. It was a wonder the man was still unmarried.

By the time he had set my arm in a sling and arranged a splint and other wrappings around my knee and ankle, it was only mid-morning, and the O'Brien family and its guests were still munching away on their breakfasts. After Dr. Faolán had bid me farewell with a short bow and exited the room, I heard Roland immediately say:

"Has she been treated? It took you a godawfully long time. What did you do?"

There were no words to describe my brother in that moment except for 'transparently overprotective.' The doctor merely replied with:

"Plenty of things, Mr. Turner. But I am a doctor and doctors and patients have an inherent code of confidentiality when it comes to these sorts of things."

Snickers and giggles came from Cordelia and Caiomhe.

"But…" continued Faolán. "You can rest assured that she will be doing much better from this day onward, Mr. Turner. There is absolutely nothing a professional doctor cannot remedy." There was a pause. "I'll be back in a few days to check up on her."

xXx

That night, before going to bed, Caiomhe and I were idly chatting about the day's events and other nonsense. She told me about how she had set up a little picnic on the hill for herself and Roland, and I told her about how I sat all day in bed and daydreamed.

"Ah, thinkin' about the doctor, Astrid?" she teased. "Ye know, as nice a man as he is, it would make me very sad if ye didn't stay with me brother."

I wrinkled my nose.

"Why?" I could help but ask. There was no comparison between Tom and Faolán. It wasn't doable.

"Well, then we wouldn't be sisters in the future, now would we?"

She laid herself in her cot and pulled the covers up to her chin, humming as she got comfortable beneath the sheets. Some silence passed between us, and then Caiomhe sighed.

"He treated me once, ye know," she whispered into the dark. There was naught but a small window over Caiomhe's bed to let in some moonlight. "The doctor, I mean. I hurt me ankle bad when I was tryin' to run away from those damned Whelan boys—did I tell ye that they would've ruined Roland and mine's picnic if yer brother hadn't threatened them? Anyway, it was Dr. Cavanaugh who came and treated me, and all the other girls were so jealous." She laughed. "He was very nice. I told me maimeó 'bout his visit and she told me that he fancied me. I didn't believe it. I still don't."

"Well, why not give him the chance, Caiomhe?" I suggested. Hell, I would have given the handsome bloke a chance.

"Astrid, I am sixteen years old. I live in a country village. My life is simple. His isn't. He's one of those scientific men… and well, everyone knows he's a bit of a nob, what with half his family livin' in England and living like the English and forgettin' 'bout their Irish roots."

"Roland's English, Caiomhe. And you know who his mum is? She's the daughter of a former governor of Port Royal! Now, if that ain't nobish, then I don't know what is." She said nothing in reply. "And… and did I tell you that he was an officer in His Majesty's Navy? Roland is as English as the English can get."

Even though I could barely see her, I knew O'Brien's sister was glaring at me in the dim.

"He's different," she said, at length. "And I like him. Besides, I could ask you a lot of questions 'bout why you like Tom. So leave me an' Roland alone, and I'll leave you an' Tommy alone."

Sleep came to the both of us easily enough, but Caiomhe's turned out to be an uneasy one. It didn't take long for me to detect some sort of whimpering coming from her side of the room, along with a lot of tossing and twisting about on her bed. I cracked open an eyelid to better see what was happening, but I only heard Caiomhe murmuring things in her disturbed slumber.

"Psst! Caiomhe! Shut up!" I hissed, wishing I could get out of my cot and wake her. I decided to risk more volume in my voice. "Caiomhe!"

She sprang from her bed with a shriek, visibly shaking as she calmed herself and wiped the cold sweat off her brow.

"Oh, God, Astrid. Don't scare me like that."

I quirked an eyebrow at her. If anything, she was scaring me.

"Well, as long as everything's all right now, I'll just be going back to b—"

Caiomhe froze and jumped to the wooden floor, inching to my bedside and looking up at me.

"Did you hear that?" she burst. Her green eyes had paled considerably in the moonlight coming from her window.

"Hear wha—"

"Shh! There it is again!" She looked back at her window, and as the silence of night grew heavier, I finally heard what her delicate ears had detected.

They were footsteps, seemingly over the grass right by the house, and they were accompanied by a low growl and pant.

I gulped a bit.

"What do you think it is?" I asked. "Do you think it could be a dog? A wolf?"

Caiomhe shook her head viciously at me.

"All of Ireland's wolves are dead, Astrid. Dead. Dead. There's not one alive. There can't be. There can't—"

She let out a yelp when a head came into view at the window, and she leapt into my bed and cried:

"Oh, my God, Astrid! It's a wolf! It's a wolf! It's… a… wolf!"

I would have hid under the covers with her, and I already had the sheet pulled when I heard the supposed "wolf" go, "Psst!"

I turned back to the window and squinted at the figure by the pane.

"Astrid! Don't look at it! It will track you down and kill you and… Oh, God, it's a bloody wolf! It's a wolf!"

"No," I said, a smile surfacing on my face.

"Wot?" squawked Caiomhe, sitting up and glaring back at the silhouette. I laughed and gave her a slight rap on the head.

"It's my dad."

xXx

A few days passed before Dr. Faolán returned to check up on me. After that visit, however, he left a bottle of some pain killer he had concocted. "One drop in the mouth before you go to bed," he instructed. "And drink plenty of water afterwards. It's quite concentrated."

I nodded and he set the bottle on my nightstand. He continued standing in front of me, his voice slightly less cheery than when I last saw him.

"I keep running into your father, Miss," he said, crossing his arms over his chest and rubbing his shaved chin. "I suspect he may be following me."

I shrugged and shook my head. I knew very well why Jack was keeping an eye on the doctor, but I couldn't betray my father for the man, now could I? Charming as Faolán might have been, he was also rich, and Jack was convinced that the young man possessed the green diamond we were looking for.

"My father's that kind of man. The suspicious kind. Especially when it comes to his daughters," I replied with a smirk.

Dr. Faolán looked at me with unexpected severity, his bright green eyes locked on mine and refusing to let go of them. I winced slightly under the glower, and he noticed, because he relaxed into a smile and chuckled to loosen the worry strung in the air.

"Well, maybe next time I will speak with him. If he suspects me of anything, I would like him to tell me. I have nothing to hide." He began to pack up his things. "Though, I understand why he would be mistrusting." He flashed his brilliant white smile at me and winked. My hands fled to my face to cover the glowing spots of red on my cheeks. "Stay in bed, dear girl," he warned, pointing a finger at me as he exited the door.

I did stay in bed, all day and all night, but that did not mean that I could do nothing in my immobile state. Jack had arranged to speak to me each night to inform me of any progress in the prodding of the mysterious Dr. Faolán. What I learned in the night, I planned to be aware of during the doctor's next visits, but the information gathered never became of any use. Faolán's inspections became increasingly brief, but he would stay in Maimeó Úna's cottage for hours afterwards, talking to the others, but especially to Caiomhe.

But for some reason, I didn't mind that he was spending less time with me. My stomach always felt like butterflies were fluttering in its cavity and my mind swooned with amorous thoughts about him whenever he left the room. I would only realize how short his visits had become by nightfall, when I had to take the medicine he gave me.

And when I dreamed, my dreams were bizarre and incomprehensible. I would see figures and hear voices I had never seen or heard before, and the colors of the world did not match. The sky would be orange, and the grass would be blue. People were red, and the stars were black. Caiomhe caught me attempting to walk in my sleep. And one night, when Jack had come to talk to me, I woke believing he was a monster, and I would not speak to him no matter how hard he and Caiomhe tried to tell me that I was imagining things.

I told Dr. Faolán about my nightmares, but he simply said that they were probably my mind's manifestations of the physical pain I was experiencing from my injuries. I always had to bite my tongue to keep myself from denying his explanation. He was a doctor and he knew what he was doing. I trusted him. He must have sensed my worry because he told me to start taking the tonic twice a day. Once in the morning and once and night.

"Tell me if anything changes," he said.

I started having delusions in the middle of the day. One morning when Caiomhe had come into the room to give me my breakfast, I thought she was a wolf—a rabid beast standing on her hind legs with drool dripping from her bloody jowl. When she tried to touch me, I screamed and thought she was attacking me. Roland was the only person I saw clearly, and he came into the room and shook me.

"What's wrong with you, Astrid?" he said, wiping the tears from my face. "What's wrong with you, sister?"

When my only replies were some babbling medley of blubbering and weeping, Roland grew angry and immediately sent a messenger for the doctor. Faolán came readily, looking as prim and neat as he ever had, making others suspect that he was always prepared for these sorts of things, or rather, just prepared in my case.

At this meeting, however, Roland did not hold back his concerns over me. Although my eyes were clouded with images of red fields, green sheep, and a yellow sky, I could hear every word shouted out of my brother's mouth: You're not helping her! She's getting worse! I could not understand Faolán's murmured responses, but the apologetic tone told me that he would be staying by my side for a very long time trying to figure out what was wrong with me.

He gave me a greater dose of my medication and I was induced into a dark and swirling slumber that was surprisingly heavy. I had no dreams and the darkness behind my closed eyelids was so pure and resoundingly deep that I felt as though I had never slept so well in my entire life. I woke feeling renewed the following morning, and I found Jack sitting in a chair beside my cot, awake with his chin resting in his hands and with his elbows on his knees.

He looked paler than usual and the dark semicircles under his eyes seemed particularly ashen.

"Morning, love," he greeted.

"Have you been watching over me?" I asked, winking at the sun that poured from Caiomhe's bedroom window.

"For the past two nights, aye."

I squinted at Jack, my lips pursed to speak.

"Two nights? I couldn't have been asleep for that long."

"You were. Your doctor sedated you with God knows what."

"Where's Roland?"

"Outside…" He paused. "Talking with the Spaniard."

"About what?"

"We're going to steal Faolán's diamond tonight, and hopefully use it as leverage to get him to treat you better."

"But I feel fine."

Jack snorted.

"And how do you know that he has the diamond, Jack?" I questioned.

"I saw him take it out when he was with some of his colleagues. They seem to take it out on a regular basis and huddle around it. It must be very important." He stroked his beaded beard as he stared upward, face pensively molded.

"Where's Caoimhe?"

"In town…" He paused again. "With Faolán."

My eyes were shot open and if I could have sat up, I would have, but all I could do was stretch my jaw wide with a shrill.

"Why in God's name! She told me she didn't even like him!" I continued to fume about how my new female friend had so thoughtlessly betrayed me. She had not shown any interest in the man, but I had, even if it was trivial and out of jest.

"Relax, love," Jack grinned. "She's doing it on behalf of our venture.

Cord suddenly burst into the room, the red on her face a clear indication of her delight.

"Caiomhe and the doctor are back!" she squealed. "He's coming to see how you are, ma soeur." Jack got up from his seat and walked to the other side of the room. Shortly after he made that move, Faolán stepped in, smiling his purely white and enchanting smile. The corners of my mouth shifted northward without my awareness.

"It's good to see you awake, my dear girl," he began, sitting down in the seat Jack had vacated specifically for him. Faolán's eyes were incandescently bright—like emeralds twinkling in the sunlight. I noticed that he had not shaved, and that there was a very visible shade of dark brown across his perfect jaw. I felt an odd inclination to rub such stubble with my hand.

"Let's see how your broken bones are fairing, hmm?" Without my answer, he helped me sit upright and slid his firm hands beneath the skirt of my gown, prodding my knee until I winced with pain and then doing the same with my ankle. He kept his face close to my skin at all times—so much so that I could feel the moisture of his breath. His eyes were strictly focused on the spots of injury.

Caiomhe came into the room and was so happy to see me awake that she clapped her hands together, and she would have gone to me, had not Roland entered the room and asked to speak with her shortly. Faolán had stopped his inspections as soon as Roland appeared, and he watched them more closely than he had examined my wounds to the point where he looked almost cross at the words Caiomhe and Roland were exchanging and possibly more so by the way Roland handled Caoimhe—with his hand on the small of her back, and his fingers delicately holding her wrist. Faolán rank horribly of jealousy.

As soon as the couple left to talk about whatever it was that Roland wanted to talk about, Faolán turned back to me and dropped my ankle like a hot brick.

"You're healing well, though not fast enough." He spoke curtly. He took a small bottle out of his coat pocket and set it on the stand beside my cot. "I made this for this specific occasion, Miss Sparrow," he said. "You're going to have to drink all of it. No water this time. Otherwise, the healing effects may not have the impact you so desperately need. Take it before you eat your supper. Right around sunset." He rose from his chair and after a nod to Jack who still lurked in the corner, he said his farewell to me and took his leave.

Jack regained his seat and looked at me gravely.

"Roland's taking Caiomhe to the Pearl, Astrid," he said.

"Why?"

"The doctor is going to want to know where she is, and is going to look for her. He'll be away from his home. That gives me plenty of time to get the diamond and escape."

"I'll have no part in this then?" I lamented.

He only smiled at me before getting up and leaving.

By sunset, everyone involved in Jack's plot was in his or her positions, or so I presumed. Cord kindly brought my supper in on a tray and I remembered to take all of my medication before I ate. For a moment I sat in bed feeling the liquid burn down my throat, the bitterness of its taste still clinging to my tongue. For a moment, I sat there silent and still, my mouth gradually going dry, as if the bitterness of my medicine had sucked away all moisture. Heat flooded my face and I could feel the veins against my temple start to beat fervently as blood gushed to my head. The world started to melt into a newly painted scene—one where light was blindingly yellow and the floor was orange, where geometrical shapes became blobs and circles became stars. My heart tightened. I could feel the muscles stretch and freeze and after hearing a shatter and a clash, I thought I tumbled to the floor, my body convulsing.

Someone had heard the crash and had come in. I could hear the footsteps and the distant shouting: "Get the doctor! Get the doctor!" before sense and memory were lost to me.

All I could see and sense were the things in my dreams—the wild swarm of colors, the overbearing yet subtle buzz and hum of something ringing in my ears, the loss of touch and smell. It was a continuous cycle of visual hysteria until a distinct noise leapt out of the sea of nonsense pervading my mind.

It was a growl of some sort. A low, predatorial, canine growl.

Something wet landed on my face and then directly into my eye, and the flashes of color melted away instantly, and my eyes were met with darkness. With a trembling hand, I touched my face and felt the slippery, slight thickness of whatever had fallen onto my face—and then I felt it. Breath, warm and moist, bouncing against my ear and tingling my flesh. Blindly I reached out into the direction of the breather and felt a face stubbled and hairy. I drew my hand back with a squirm and a squeak. It was saliva. Spit was on my face.

"Where… is… she…?" The growling voice buried the words into my ear, the low, guttural tone echoing.

"Who? I… I don't know what you're talking about."

A roar was my reply. A real roar. The snarling roar that came from the throat of a lion or a dog. A flame was lit to illuminate the blackness, and the dizzying wave of colors returned, and I saw myself face to face with a dark, massive creature—blurred and silhouetted in a fiery red background. Its form was beastly.

"Tell me where she is!" The command came again in the same wretched barking. I coward from the black, featureless face, my heart pounding and my brain aching. My mouth was dry and I thought my tongue was swollen so that I could not utter a word. Not even a whimper or a plea.

"Oh, Astrid." The voice changed and the form shifted—both easing into gentleness. I could not distinguish any features, but the outline was familiar and human. A hand stroked my face and the growling had suddenly switched to a soothing, silky voice.

"My dear girl," he began. He ran his thumb over my eyes, and when I opened them again, I stared into the brilliantly green orbs of Dr. Faolán. I could see everything now. I was in a building I did not recognize, up against a wall, and Faolán looked as angelic as ever, his face so close to mine. Night was stationed outside a window to my right, and the full moon shone its silver face with confidence and strength. "Tell me where Caiomhe is," he ordered mildly.

"How did I get here? Where am I? Where's my father? My brother?" He put a finger to my lips.

"You're in my office. I was sent for when you collapsed around sunset. Your condition was so bad I had to have you taken here. Your father and brother were not around to offer their protests, so I did what was best for the situation… and for you."

"Am I healed? Can I leave?"

He chuckled.

"Oh, no, my dear girl. You must tell me where Caiomhe is before I release you." His grip on me constricted. I felt his entire body tense. His eyes flickered wildly.

"Why?" I dared to ask.

"Because I need her." He bent his head so that his nose hovered a hair's width from the nape of my neck. "You're wearing one of her dresses." He sniffed me. "I can smell her on you." He seemed to flinch and he looked back at me, his face contorting again into one of anger. "I need her, Astrid. You will tell me where she is!" As he yelled his last words the growl returned in his voice and his face turned black. I felt his cold, calloused hands seize my neck and curl his rigid fingers tightly around my throat.

The world became unfamiliar and alien, and all memory of Dr. Faolán had disappeared. I was at the mercy of some hideous being that I could not identify, one I could not even see clearly because of some ailment to my eyes.

"Why… do… you need… her?" I managed to wheeze. I couldn't feel my feet on the ground anymore. If he dared to drop me, I'd crumble seeing as I was temporarily incapable of standing solo.

"To stop this!" he screamed, followed by some agonized howl. "I can't stop it without her or my diamond." In his despair he let go of me and I fell limp onto the floor, watching his hulking, beast-like silhouette retreat into some corner in the fiery hellworld now visible to me. "I can't stop it." He punched at a wall. "She needs to be mine. I need her, Astrid. You have to tell me where she is!"

My tongue was frozen in my jaw, and I remained silent save for an occasional wish for Jack to take to me away, and he must have heard me because his growling grew louder, his breathing more heavy and fierce. The wooden floor creaked under pressure of breaking as it suffered his muscled weight.

"Jack Sparrow? Is he responsible for this? Is he responsible for making me turn into what I am! I haven't made this transformation for a decade!" He crouched low beside me and grabbed me by the head, his claw digging into my scalp. As I looked at him, all I could see were a pair of red, flaming eyes in a pitch black face. But I recognized a monster when I saw one and the information I held would not be surrendered.

A new pair of feet scampered into the room, and my head was instantly dropped.

"Did someone say my name? I could have sworn—"

My heart leapt up into my throat.

"Jack?"

Faolán abandoned me and bounded over to Jack's place by a door. I could tell Jack apart from the rest of the crimson earth because he appeared blue, and he retained his human figure, unlike Faolán who seemed more like a wolf than anything else.

"Shut up, you backstabbing blackguard," roared Faolán. "I gave you my trust."

"And I trusted you to take care of my daughter. And here she is blind as a bat and still horribly disabled. Well, not disabled, but sprawled and nearly unconscious on the floor."

Faolán bristled.

"If you want her, you will have to tell me where Caiomhe is."

"If you want to know where O'Brien's sister is, you'll have to give me Astrid," Jack happily replied.

"That's the same thing!"

"No, it's not. Mine is said in my favor and you're the subject of the sentence."

Jack welcomed himself inside and took a casual step towards me. He fingered something behind his back and the object in his possession sparkled green.

"Then I'll rip you to shreds!" threatened Faolán, pursuing Jack with a web of saliva dripping from his teeth. His back legs scraped against the wooden floor as he prepared to pounce on my father, and he was about to spring forward when Jack pulled the green gem from behind his back and held it in front of him, just as Faolán was about to swing his bear-like paw straight across Jack's grinning face.

Upon seeing the jewel glittering before him, Faolán—struck dumb from shock—stumbled backwards.

"Freedom from your curse in a conveniently and expensively condensed form," mused Jack. The diamond was practically ablaze in the moonlight. Faolán looked dazed and confused, and I could almost feel the rapid thump of his heart pulsating from his chest through the wooden floor planks. His emotion was that strong. "You want it?" Jack raised his arm. Faolán got back on his feet. "Fetch, boy!" And Captain Sparrow chucked the thing as far as he could across the room before spinning around, looking at me, and grumbling, "Parenting always complicates things" before picking me up and sprinting out of the building.

"Won't he follow us?" I wondered, as Jack sped off down a street.

"Not likely. There are people out here and well, as soon as they see him, he's dead."

For a time we followed the road, and I was surprised that Jack had not glanced over his shoulder once to see if our attacker was still pursuing us. More so, I was surprised that he was not complaining that he had forsaken his precious treasure for me.

"After a half hour of thought, I concluded that a half-blind, delusional, broken daughter was more important than a perfectly cut and perfectly green and perfectly shiny diamond that would have merited me at least a eighty thousand pieces of eight," he told me as we reached the outskirts of the town and entered rural country. His pace slowed and he drifted from the road.

"Oh, so that's what I'm worth? Eighty thousand pieces of eight?"

"At least you're not dead. Otherwise, you wouldn't be worth anything."

His reply shut me up, and we crept into a forest, me still in Jack's arms. Despite the immense darkness obstructing our eyesight, my father had some sense of where he was going and after he reached a glade, he set me down on the ground and waited a few moments before two familiar shapes appeared. It was Roland and Caiomhe judging by the voices I heard. Their forms, like Faolán's, were a bit distorted.

"What of the doctor?" asked my brother, handing Jack a pistol and a small pouch. As Jack loaded the pistol he answered, calmly:

"Dearest Doctor Faolán will be arriving shortly, most likely foaming about the face and smelling like a sweaty bear, ready to tear me limb from limb all at the expense of your dearly beloved." He gestured at Caiomhe who stood innocently by Roland's side.

"All right," said Roland. 'What can I do to help?"

"Get Astrid out of here."

With a nod, Roland complied and lifted me up, and after a few more hushed words with Jack, we went forth, further into the forest with Caiomhe right by Roland's side. The colors I was seeing started to fade into blackness, and I tugged on Roland's sleeve.

"I can't see anything, Roland," I said, my voice shaking. "I can't see anything!"

"Shh, Astrid. Be quiet. We don't want to be caught."

"But I can't see anything!"

My new disability was driving me into hysteria, and in the midst of my cries, Caiomhe gasped at the mere sound of a snapped twig.

"Roland," she said warily.

"Caiomhe, I'm a bit preoccupied. If you can get my sister to stop complaining, I'll be happy to—"

There was another snap and a rustle in the brush, and Roland quickly set me on the ground to hold fast to Caiomhe, whose breathing had hastened at an alarming rate. We waited for a while in the darkness, the silence of the forest a deafening omen. And then we heard it: a deep, resonating growl.

"Dammit," muttered Roland. "Why'd I give Jack the silver bullets?"

"You don't let go of me, Roland William Turner," wept Caiomhe. "Don't ye dare let go of me."

"I won't, Caiomhe. I won't. Stop crying. He'll find us. Stop, Caiomhe, please."

She couldn't obey. Fear had summoned her tears.

A voice rang out through the trees.

"My dear Caiomhe, why do you weep? What are you afraid of, my dear?" I shuddered instinctively at Faolán deceiving, dulcet voice.

"Stay back, ye fiend!" Caiomhe screamed.

"Oh, but why?" My ears twitched as I heard footsteps, and by the sound, I assumed that Faolán was very close to me. "Astrid seems in distress. Poor thing. I'd say she's completely blind now. Blind with a broken body. Such a waste."

It was Roland's turn to shout into the night.

"You despicable bastard! I'll kill you!"

I felt a pair of firm, human hands left me up and hold me gently against a warm, human body. Faolán's voice was too close for comfort, and I was helpless in his grip again.

"Oh, but you can't do anything to me, Turner," snickered the doctor. "And what would you have me do to your dear sister, hmm? Shall I give her a bite and turn her into a thing like me? Or will I poison her to death as I have been slowly poisoning her for the past few weeks? But this time it will be quick. A quick dose of deadly nightshade, my dear English girl, and you'll be set in your grave." He laughed wickedly. "Belladonna, indeed."

Roland unleashed an oath into the air.

"Or," offered Faolán, "you can give me Caiomhe. And I'll have my bride—and my permanent cure for agony—and you'll have your blind, but living, sister. What will it be, my dear boy?"

Before Roland could reply, another option was proposed, though not by Faolán.

"Or," said a familiar voice, "Astrid can be left out of this—she's blind, broken, and none too smart, plainly useless—Turner's bonnie lass can sail away on a ship to the Canary Islands, and you can have your thick wolfy pelt comfortably hoisted up on the O'Brien cottage wall as a hunting prize. Oh, and I can have your diamond."

"I'm afraid your terms are far too particular and difficult to carry out, Captain Sparrow," Faolán answered coolly. "Only one of them can be guaranteed. Which one will it be?"

Jack didn't hesitate to give us the ultimatum.

"The diamond."

"Jack!" Roland's protest was futile.

"Agreed." I assumed the exchange took place and Jack received his diamond because Faolán had dropped me and his now trademark growl had returned, only at his more bestial level.

With a grunt and a bark, he took a pounce towards Roland and Caiomhe and with perfect accuracy, landed on his prey; Roland shouted an echoing "Caiomhe!" before Faolán was upon them. From where I lay, I heard the canine sounds of Faolán's foul descent upon my brother and friend—the sound of a dog feasting in ecstasy—that was, until a shot rang into the air, followed by another, and still, another.

A howl pierced the air, and Caiomhe's voice rang true despite the ordeal she had just gone through.

"Roland, Roland, are you all right?" she asked. My brother moaned in the pitch blackness of my mind.

"I'm fine. I'm not badly hurt," he answered.

Jack dropped the pistol in his hand and let out a shallow breath.

"No," he said dourly. "But you've been bitten."

xXx

Three days after the last full moon and Roland's bite had healed, but he was warned of his new curse. Jack was obliged to give the diamond we had all suffered much over to my brother, as it was the only object that could tame the effects of the bite during the full moon. I, on the other hand, still suffered in eternal darkness, and my sight had not returned. I had lost all hope of vision and had fallen into a bout with despair when, on our last day in Ireland, an unexpected visitor stopped by Maimeó Una's cottage to see me.

By Caiomhe's clear disapproval to let this visitor in the house, I judged that it was Faolán, and I grew sick with the fear that he had survived his wounds. I thought silver bullets were supposed to take care of creatures like him, but Jack had told me that it wasn't so. He had shot the doctor in the shoulder, arm, and leg—and Faolán had lived.

Because Caiomhe displayed her hate for the man so blatantly, but because he was the only person who could possibly return my sight, she was ushered out of the house against her will. I heard from Roland later on that her brother had to carry her out while she was kicking and screaming and cursing as well as any other seasoned sailor.

"I've put you through hell, dear girl," said Faolán. I felt his hand touch mine. I curled my fingers inward under my palm. "I nearly killed you."

"Leave," I spat at him. "You've done enough damage. Rendered me a blind woman and plagued my brother with your evil curse. You stay away from me!"

"I can't heal your brother, Miss, but I've a cure to your blindness… if you will have it."

I had no choice but to consent. Irony made it so that he was my only chance.

"What are you going to give me? More poison?"

"Yes, actually, but it's counteractive. It may not work right away, but it is worth a shot."

He put two drops of some liquid onto each of my eyes, and though it stung and burned a little, and I could feel my pupils swell and constrict, light gradually poked through the blackness, and the world I had been shut out from for a full three days and four nights returned to me, although a bit blurred. After a few more drops, and I could make out faces and objects. After an hour of waiting and medication, my sight was fully restored, but it still had its problems. Things far away were still obscured, and at times when I blinked and reopened my eyes, I would have flashes of momentary darkness. But otherwise, I could see again.

I stared up into Dr. Faolán's repentant face.

"Are you… you know… cured as well?" I asked him. He smiled at me.

"I'll let you know come the next full moon."

"How will I know? I won't be here."

"Well, that brings me to my next subject, Miss. I'm going to follow in my uncle's footsteps and serve your Navy for a few years. I'll see how it goes. Until arrangements are made, however, I will be in London, staying with said uncle until I am deployed. If you have my uncle's address, you can write to me, and I will reply to you in return. You will just have to say where you will be so that my letter does not get lost to sea."

"And what if you are not cured? You will be endangering one of my dearest friends and his family. He has a daughter, you know. She's five."

"I know," he smiled. "But I feel relatively… unburdened, renewed—free. My doubts are practically nonexistent."

"And better tempered."

"That, too. And… miraculously, I do not feel a passionate attachment to Miss O'Brien anymore. I feel no… inclination to find myself a wife—seeing as finding a bride is another cure for my… disease, if you will."

"Well, if that's the case then, you won't mind it if I give you a 'thank-you' kiss?"

I wondered what Dr. David Cavanaugh would think if he knew that I kissed his nephew.

"I'm sorry, dear girl," said Faolán. "But I've sworn off English women. You are the first Englishwoman I have ever treated," he allowed, "and frankly, look at all the trouble you've caused."

Despite what he said about me, which I was sure was just a bit of a tease, as we prepared for departure, I kindly asked Hernán, who had gently offered himself as my leaning board (my injuries still kept me from walking), to take me to Faolán. Before the young doctor could utter any protest, I kissed him on the cheek.

As Hernán escorted me back to the ship, I saw Caiomhe and Roland standing nose to nose, hands together.

"Ye'll come back for me, aye?" said the Irish girl to her English beloved.

"I will, Caiomhe. I will."

"I'll miss ye terribly, Roland." The red-haired girl sniffed and wiped at her eyes. Roland held her close. I sighed happily and pressed a hand over my heart.

"What are you sighing so dreamily about?" asked the Spaniard.

"Oh, nothing," I mused. "It's just… I think my brother has finally, finally found true love."

"Yes, and that is something to be happy about," he replied dryly.

"Your sarcasm is unfitting, Dago. Explain yourself."

He obliged with a simper.

"Well, your brother came to Ireland and found true love. And well, you, you came out empty handed."

"I wouldn't say that's a bad thing."

"Why not?"

I smiled and looked over my shoulder, seeing Tom walking but a few paces behind us. Further behind him was Jack, who was looking down at me. I gave my father a wave, and both he and the Irishman replied.

"Nothing," I sang. "I just have a feeling that my partner for life is very close." I paused. "That, and… well, after my experience with long distance relationships, I don't think one with Dr. Faolán would have ever worked out."