Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all associated characters belong to their respective owners. I just play and give back. All I can lay claim to are the OC's in this story – and not even them. They own themselves, alright? I guess I come out with nada. Sadly.

Author's Note: Well…er…this is better timing…right? heh…

Dedication: I dedicate this whole story to my grandpa who lived an eventful, healthy 86 years and instilled knowledge and the love of gardening in most everyone he came into contact with. He was joking up until the very end, and that's how I like to remember him.

Chapter 12

Madeline hastily made her way through the crowded ballroom, intent on reaching the door leading into the gardens and the freedom it offered. She wove between the heavy skirts of the ladies' fine dresses and avoided the servants toting trays of refreshments.

Finally she reached her destination and sighed gratefully. She opened the door and skipped out into the rainy night, quietly giggling to herself. Madeline made her way along the garden trails, growing less certain of herself the further she got from the comforting warm glow of the mansion's great room.

Before long, her fear pressed her to return to the door and the comfort of the light issuing from the windows around it. Any sadness for her loss of freedom was overrun by her desire to escape the dark. She tugged on the door's handle, but it did not give. Furrowing her brows, she placed both hands on the knob and yanked as hard as she could. Locked. The door was locked from the inside.

With a fresh wave of fear spurring her on, Madeline abandoned the door and followed the garden trail nearest to the mansion's walls, hoping to find another entrance somewhere along their length.

Madeline squeaked as firm hands grasped her from behind.

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Tall, fine-boned and dark-haired Joseph Tifnle walked down the darkened cobblestone streets of Port Royal. Water seeped into his shoes and each step resulted in a 'squalsh' sound. The glow of lights from within the governor's mansion, his destination, sent him to wringing his hands before him. His paced slowed as he fretted, the rain that had been driving him on forgotten.

Having never been one for social gatherings outside his class, and rarely those within his class, Joseph was experiencing second thoughts. He patted his breast pocket, firmly reminding himself that he had received a personal invitation from the governor himself, something that should not be ignored or taken lightly.

Exhaling, he told himself that all that was really required of him was to show his face, chat for fifteen minutes at most, and then slip out unnoticed. At least then he could honestly say he had attended. With his resolve somewhat strengthened, he pressed onward and attempted to ignore the clench of panic in his chest.

Finally the tension overwhelmed him and he stopped, gulping in the cool air and trying to steady his quaking limbs. He stood for several minutes, nearly hyperventilating on the governor's doorstep and unable to force himself onward. A chilly wind pierced his oiled cloak and he shivered at the unpleasant sensation.

"I can't do this," he resolved. Blowing on his hands and rubbing them together, he turned away from the door and started back the way he had come. Before he had left the walkway, a sound brought him up short and raised the hair on the back of his neck. What was that? he asked himself, scanning the darkness around him with wide eyes.

He heard it again, quieter this time: a restricted squeal from behind the hedge that ran the length of the mansion and went back to frame the gardens. Joseph's curiosity won out and he slowly made his way over to the gate leading into the hedged walkway along the wall.

Ahead of him there was a rustle of wet fabric and Joseph froze. Now jut inside the gate, he pressed himself to the mansion wall and waited. For what, he was unsure.

With jerky motions, two figures, one much larger than the other, made their way in his direction. The large figure was yanking the smaller along with an arm wrapped firmly around the other's neck, herding it into the darkness. The choked squeals of distress were becoming more urgent.

Joseph began edging down the wall, nearer to the two who had stopped and were struggling with one another. A roll of thunder that seemed to shake the ground on which he stood stopped him for a moment. Following the thunder, he heard a quieter but much more frightening sound: choking.

Lightning flashed several times in quick succession and each strike was accompanied belatedly by the crack of thunder. In the brief spans of illumination, Joseph saw enough to make his blood run cold. Mere yards from where he was standing, a young girl in court finery was being strangled by a desultory-looking man in outlandish sailor's clothing. The man was holding a red cloth tight around the neck of the girl, who was fading fast.

As the lightning passed, darkness blanketed the narrow aisle once more and Joseph, in a rare moment of rage and courage, pushed away from the wall and ran headlong at the struggling pair. The man heard Joseph coming and met him with a strong resistance. Keeping the cloth tight around the girl's neck with one hand, he thrust a fist into Joseph's face and he fell.

Darkness clouded Joseph's vision as he tried to pull himself off the ground. The other's sneering face was the last thing Joseph saw before slipping into oblivion.

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Jack trudged away from the governor's mansion as casually as he could. The rain was still falling in heavy sheets and he felt the sting of it even through his cloak. As soon as he was back on the street, he broke into a jog and headed for a path he vaguely remembered.

His journey brought him to the home of Mr. and Mrs. William Turner. He gave the quaint building a cursory glance from the street before rounding it to find a way in. His search concluded in the discovery of an open window at the rear of the dwelling, which he passed through.

Once inside, Jack paused and scanned the darkness. After a few moments, the pirate paced down the hall, into the kitchen and looked around. Moonlight trickled through the single window, casting a pale glow across the table and onto the floor, ending just inches from where Jack stood. He shuddered involuntarily and shook his head, sending droplets of water flying.

Jack reached into his vest and withdrew a small, canvas-wrapped package and a hastily-folded letter. He knelt, pushed the rug aside and began rapping quietly on the panels of the floor. When the sound of his knock came back hollowly, Jack carefully pried the board off and placed the package and letter in the dusty compartment. That done, he replaced the board and the rug and left the way he had come.

As he rounded the house and headed back to the street, Jack exhaled deeply, his breath collecting in a transparent white cloud before him. He cast a glance back at the dark house as he started back down the street. When he looked back around, a faint black outline, seen through the curtain of rain, brought him up short. Trying to make the movement look casual, he drew a dagger from his wrist guard and palmed it, keeping the blade turned away from the moonlight. He kneeled, ignoring the cold water that soaked through his pant leg and chilled his knee.

"Honestly Jack, you don't really think that small blade will do you any good, do you?"

Jack tensed and rose slowly after drawing another blade from the sheathe in his boot. Through the rain, three figures materialized and their features were partially revealed by the cold moonlight. Though he didn't recognize two of them, the third he did.

"Anamaria!" His call drew no response from her and Jack bristled, glaring heatedly at the larger of the men, who was holding her limp form. "Let her go." He spoke slowly with an uncharacteristic sharpness to his voice, though he did not raise it.

The leaner of the two men nodded and motioned nonchalantly for the other to comply. The larger man unceremoniously dropped Ana's body and she struck the wet cobblestones like a brick.

"Anamaria," Jack called gently. She didn't stir. Jack's burning gaze returned to the two men and his features hardened. "What have you done to her?"