Cursed Seas Pt. 02: The Witch-Eye

"You see the dagger!" Veradine shouted to the crew. "Now let's get this boat turned around!"

"B-but, Cap'n...," Angela began to ask nearby.

Veradine's hand lashed out automatically, spurred on by a flash of white-hot rage. Her fingers closed around Angela's throat as she dragged the cursed woman closer. "I know about the weather. Do you think He cares?"

Angela shook her head, her eyes as wide as a fish and scared.

Veradine let go. Angela scrambled to her feet and joined the rest of the crew. The rigging was exchanged, and the Harpy began to turn about, ready to hunt the deserter in disregard to the wind. Veradine's fingers were trembling. They either succeed and leave themselves in Davy Jones' good graces, or fail and join those who had displeased Him. Veradine had no desire to fail. For her, the pain could always get worse.

* * *

The bed sheets were warm and soft. Early morning light poured through clear glass windows. Where it fell on Shella's bare body came this wonderful heat that Shella just wanted to bask in. She mumbled and moved her hand next to her. The bed sheets were rumpled and empty.

Shella opened her eyes slowly. She was alone in the new cabin. Spacious windows along the back cascaded yellow light across her dark body and bared breasts. The new cabin was a wonder; everything was smooth as water so that one's fingers could glide across the decorated walls.

Lily's ship had changed a lot over the past month. It had shed size, like peeling the layers off of an onion (but much sweeter in Shella's eyes). The hull had been fixed as it had shrunk, the mast too. Now, the Sea Lilith was a small sloop, quick as a bird.

Because of the changes in size, the cabin was in an unusual place. It had been sunk into the smaller ship's hold. The deck atop it didn't have a traditional steering wheel, instead just a long till at the back. The lower deck and the hold both had amazingly low ceilings, so much so that Shella or Lily needed to stoop when they were down there. The stairs to get down were right in the middle of the main deck, covered by a hatch. The entire ship wasn't even 50 feet long and barely 15 feet wide.

That meant that in the cabin, the wide bed took up most of the space and was shoved up against one wall. The door, as well as the stairs to the main deck, were on the other side of the room. Lily had seen fit to increase the ceiling height here, just so that they wouldn't hit their heads when they got too vigorous. Still, the room was just about 10 feet by 10 feet. It was quite small compared to what Shella was used to, but she wouldn't dream of faulting Lily for this. It was Lily's ship, she could do with it what she wanted.

Shella swung out of bed and grabbed a robe made out of a light cloth. She hung it over herself and tied it around her waist with some rope. Her breasts threatened to push the deep valley-like neckline apart, and the robe went to her knees; it could easily ride up and flash somebody. Lily had made it, of course; Shella didn't have any clothes after the island of the Wishing Stone.

The ship rocked gently back and forth on the ocean waves, the clear sky surrounding them and the musk of the ocean permeating everything. Shella left the cabin and stepped out on to the deck, where the unfiltered heat of the sun could wash across her. The deck was empty.

Shella's eyebrows knitted together and she ran across the deck. Empty. Where was Lily? She didn't want Lily to be gone, she didn't want Lily to leave.

Shella jumped as Lily hugged her from behind. She turned around and got caught in a kiss from her lovely lady. Lily wasn't gone. Thank goodness.

When Lily broke the kiss, Shella kept hugging her and cradled her head next to her breast. "Gave me a bit o' a scare there, lassie."

Lily looked into Shella's eyes, her gaze filled with curiosity.

"Jes' don' wantcha abandonin' me again, alright?"

Lily nodded and nestled her way deeper into Shella's embrace. Real. Solid. Shella still couldn't believe it. It was like she was living a dream.

Still, there was one bitter part of this that Shella still needed to fix. "Hey, Lily? Ya remember what I told ye 'bout the Harpy n' her crew?"

Lily nodded against Shella's breast and hugged her tighter.

"I left 'em behind, jes' like I did with ye. They was told t' keep me by Davy Jones. I betrayed 'em, jes' like I did wi' ye, 'n I need t' right that. Are ya still wi' me?"

Lily hesitated and nodded.

"Good, 'cause it feel like we've jes' been sailin' out here wi'out a care in the world. I don' wanna leave 'em like that. They ain't like you or me, they're cursed. I wanna help them, but I don't know how. I need your help, but I ain't sure I got it."

Lily stiffened in her grip, then backed out of her embrace. She pointed out at sea, then drew a swift line across her neck with a finger, then pointed at Shella.

It was a simple message coming from a simple fear. "Yeah, I know they'll wanna kill me. But I wanna do right by them, just like how I done right by you! Didja ever think that I'd find a way ta bring ya back?"

There was a tense moment as Lily thought, then she grudgingly shook her head.

"See? 'S just like you, exactly the same. I want t' save them, Lily. I want t' fix me mistakes? Will ya help me wi' that?"

Lily looked away. She paced on the deck. Then, she faced Shella and nodded. But she didn't look pleased about it.

"Thank ya." Shella kissed Lily on the forehead. Around them, the rigging of the Sea Lilith creaked and redid itself, under the power of Lily. The rudder turned, the sail swelled with the wind, and the Sea Lilith bound itself to a new course.

* * *

Weeks later, a gash of green appeared over the horizon. Shella sat at the prow, watching it grow slowly larger and larger. One day, she caught a glimpse of sails heading to the island, and a few days later, the sails left. Shella asked Lily, "That place got any clue 'bout how t' get th' Harpy's crew some help?"

Lily just shrugged. Still, it was a start.

The Sea Lilith sailed its way into a small cove at dusk and laid anchor in chest-deep water. Shella carried Lily ashore. Lily wore the same dress she always had, and Shella was wearing the robe that Lily had made for her. In the gathering gloom, it didn't take them long to find sign of a village. Lantern-light danced beyond the bushes.

"I still think we shoulda hit up th' taverns n' see wha' th' ol' seadogs have t' say," Shella said to Lily.

Lily had brought along a lit lantern. In it's light, she pointed at Shella's gills.

Shella rolled her eyes and muttered, "Fine, fine." Lily took her hand and they tromped after the lights together.

After a few minutes of walking, the lights revealed themselves to be a village. Small huts blocked the light at intervals, and the rhythmic thumps of drums was accompanied by calls of songs in a language from across the ocean.

"Hey, whaddya think they'll do when they see us?" Shella asked.

Lily stopped, shrugged, and then pulled Shella along the outskirts of the village. The village's lights were hidden by the bushes. They crossed on to a dirt road, pebbles poking Shella's toes.

"D'ya even know who t' ask?" Shella asked playfully.

That gave Lily some pause, but as if to answer Shella's question, a pair of giggling, laughing voices came down the road behind them. Lily tried to pull Shella off the road, but Shella slipped out of her grasp.

"Relax, me lassie, 's just people. We kin talk t' them an' see if'n they know anythin'," Shella said. She turned to face the source of the voices, obscured by a bend in the road wrappings itself around the field of bushes.

A young couple, dark-skinned and laughing to themselves came around the corner. The man was stripped to the waist, handsome in face and fine and muscular in body, and carried a torch. His companion, a woman, had her curly hair tied behind her head and wore a simple dress.

"'S'cyuse me, ma'am, sir?" Shella asked, raising up a hand to greet them.

The couple froze in their tracks. Slowly, the man lifted up his torch. The light poured over her broad feet, up her body, up her gills, and flashed in her lamplike sea-green eyes. Both gasped and turn to ran.

"No, wait! What's th' matter?" Shella asked, starting after them.

But it was too late. They had a head start, and Shella just wasn't fast enough to catch up to them. The couple were running back to the village, undoubtedly with some fantastic story to tell.

Shella sighed and Lily sidled up to her, wrapping around her arm. Shella looked at Lily and asked, "Whaddya suppose tha' was about?"

Lily pointed at Shella's gills, then her eyes. She turned Shella around, and they set off down the road.

"What, so 'm different? That ain't ever stopped me before," Shella said. "I ain't a monster. 'M a person, just like 'em. Body, mind, heart an' soul. Same as th' cursed, too. We're all people 'n the end."

They walked for about ten more minutes. A house rose up before them, a dark wall peppered by glowing lights. Shella looked at Lily. Lilly shook her head. Shella looked back at the village, then at the bushes. She ran a hand through a bush. Small, hard beans intermingled with the soft leaves. It finally dawned on Shella where they were. "We're all people 'n the end, even if we don't treat each other like it is," she whispered.

Lily pulled Shella off of the slave plantation's road and they set about for places less travelled.

* * *

They knocked on the door of the ramshackle cottage late in the morning, both their feet sore from walking for so long. Lily had dragged Shella away from several plantations and the port town, and Shella couldn't blame her. She didn't quite look human anymore.

Shella was ready to go back to the ship when they found the cottage. The cottage in question looked like it had weathered a storm and was only barely repaired, and it was miles from the closest plantation. Shella looked at Lily for confidence of some kind, and Lily shrugged.

The woman who opened the door had both the skin color and texture of a tree. She wore a thick homespun shawl over her clothes and was bent over. Her face was wrinkled like it was constantly squinting. She took one look at the two of them with dark, clever eyes, cracked a grin with half the teeth it should have, and said cheerily, "Come in, come in! I been wonderin' if you ever come!"

Shella and Lily looked at each other. Ever since they had met the young couple earlier that night, Shella could not stop thinking about who she was and her place in the world. She was tired and weary, and the problems of human civilization kept pulling on her mind, stretching it tighter and tighter. And here was this woman pretending as if nothing was wrong.

The old woman motioned for them to come in to her cottage. "Come in! You been looking for me, is that not it?"

Finally, Shella found her voice. "Dunno. Been lookin' fer someone t' help us."

"That'd be me! Come in, come in!" the old woman said, before retreating out of the doorway and leaving it open for Shella and Lily.

Once again, Shella found herself looking at Lily for direction. Lily shrugged and led the way inside.

Inside was dim, lit by breaks in the wall where sunlight could pour through. Broken shelves were piled with weird scraps of wood, rock, and errant rusty metal. Furniture, what there was of it, was as much in a state of disrepair. Against one wall, a cauldron was hung over a dead firepit, with a hole sawed through the ceiling. Shella had seen her fair share of messy places, but this was by far the worst. It was stuff tossed together in the shape of a house! Shella kept on thinking that she should drag Lily out of here and off of this island. Perhaps go someplace that actually had people, and damn the stares.

"Now, you be here for the, ah, I had it here somewhere...," the old woman muttered, rooting around on a shelf for something.

"'Scuse me, but who th' hell are ya?" Shella burst out.

"Oh, me? Just some old woman. Bit more clever than you're thinking, The folks 'round here, they come to me for help with child-bearing and being sick. Never for the bad stuff, I can't stand for that sort of thing," the woman said. "Call me Jezebel."

"Right, Jezebel. How'd ya know we were comin'?" Shella asked.

"'Cause I saw it! Weren't none too sure that you'd come around, but you did! You did!" Jezebel cackled.

Shella and Lily traded glances again. Lily shrugged, more confident than before. She idly picked up a pale smooth stone with a hole worn through it and and spun it around on a finger.

"So, ye know why we're here?" Shella asked.

"Of course, of course! You here 'bout the Cursed! You wanna know 'bout Davy Jones and how to free them under his spell!" Jezebel said, before backing away from the shelf. "Ah, I can't find it. I'm sure it'll turn up. Them sorts of things always do."

Jezebel plopped herself down on a chair. Something snapped, but it held. "You don't know much about what you're facing, do ya?" she said.

Shella leaned up against a wall and shook her head. "Dunno 'bout a lot of things. Dunno why Davy Jones's interested in me, dunno who he is 'xactly, dunno how or why he keeps people under his thumb, an' dunno why they don' swim away like I n' Lily can."

"Well, it's time for a bit of learnin'," Jezebel said. "'Cause what a fellow like Davy Jones deals in is Souls. We all got 'em. You ain't a thing if you don't got a soul. Even bugs gots souls. I should know - I seen 'em."

Shella scowled. This was sounding more and more like hogwash. Jezebel was probably crazy. If she offered Shella tea, Shella wasn't going to drink it.

Jezebel continued, "Anywho, Davy Jones binds others to his service by capturing their souls. Not all of it, mind you, 'cause something without a soul ain't a thing at all. He leaves just enough to keep 'em alive, 'n he targets the weak ones. Not weak like you are thinking, the weak ones who's ideas of themselves are fragile. Oftentimes the Cursed, those who hate themselves 'cause they ain't who they used to be. Sometimes he gets the uncursed 'cause they just been given a bad lot. Mind you, the only difference between a cursed and an uncursed is a bit of old magic, but that gettin' off-topic..."

"So Davy Jones steals souls, get to th' point old woman! How can I stop 'im, an' how can he control his crews?" Shella snapped.

"I was getting to it! You'll make me lose my thoughts the way that you're speaking like that," Jezebel replied. "Now, what was, oh yes! Davy Jones tells those he takes the souls of that he can make their lives better-"

Been there, Shella thought.

"-and a lot of them believe it. But here's the trick: Davy Jones isn't as powerful as he makes himself look!"

Shella perked up. Perhaps there was some value in Jezebel's ramblings after all.

"Sure, Davy Jones took their souls and hid them someplace, but that is more of a threat. They don't do what he say, he take their soul out an' do what he want with it. If'n they's really stubborn, he can rip their soul apart an' destroy it! Can't exist without a soul, so that tends to get them to do what he want. But, if ya notice, Davy Jones ain't much before he gets your soul. Think about it - he ain't here right now, destroying us all with a storm or something. He can't make ships blow up on command. He can't make anyone do something against their will if'n he don't got their soul. He can be real flashy, and that's about it."

"An' so he gets souls of people to use 'em as his minions so he can get more power," Shella muttered to herself. "Betcha he wants t' rule th' world."

"Well, of course!" Jezebel said, waving her hands in front of her. "That's the whole point! He wants to rule the waves, and then rule the world. But he ain't gonna succeed, I can tell you that!"

"What makes you say that?" Shella asked.

"'Cause you're looking for a way to free people under his command," Jezebel said.

"An' how do I do that? An' how do you know so much 'bout this?"

"Oh, it was years and years ago, but I was once in Davy Jones' clutches. Scared, but power-hungry. Learned all kinds of magical what-nots. I was one of those folks who weren't cursed. Did a bit of cursin', matter of fact. But it didn't take me long to get sick of it. Davy Jones was a mean son-of-a-bitch back then, and I don't think he got better now," Jezebel said.

Shella leaned in. Suddenly, this kooky old woman had become a lot more interesting. "So, how'd you get out o' his grip?"

"Found his box! Ol' Davy's got hisself a big ol' chest, filled with every soul he's grabbed. He keeps it hidden. I found it on his flagship, where he had me 'cause I knew magic. I took my soul and fled 'cause I weren't interested in helpin' others out, 'specially seein' how quick I hadta run from there. But I bet if you ever destroy that locker of his, all the souls in it would go flying back to their owners. 'Course, I don't know where it is now; he had to have hidden it somewhere new. But I know how you can find it. You need a Witch-eye. It's a stone polished smooth, with a hole in it. I had one around here somewhere. 'Bout yea big, formed completely naturally. Don't work if it's hand-made," Jezebel said, making the shape of an apple-sized circle with her hands.

Shella looked at Lily. Lily looked back, intrigued but still confused and still spinning the stone with a hole in it on her fingers. Shella looked at the stone. Lily's eyes followed, and she jumped as she realized what she was holding.

"Izzat it?" Shella asked, pointing to the stone Lily was holding.

Jezebel squinted hard at where Shella was pointing. "Why, yes it is! Bring it over here, will you?"

Lily walked to Jezebel and planted the witch-eye in Jezebel's withered old fingers.

"Now this here," Jezebel said, holding up the witch-eye like a monocle, "is all you'll ever need. If you just peer through its hole, you can see people's souls. And because Davy Jones leaves a little bit o' soul back from the person he took it from, there'll be a line from them to wherever the rest o' their soul be." To prove herself, Jezebel held up the witch-eye to her eye and peered through it. She stared directly at Shella, her eye more isolated but its cleverness magnified all the more by the stone. Strangely, the old woman's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. She took the witch-eye away from her face and rubbed it with her sleeve. She mumbled something and peered through it again.

"I don't get it. I thought this was my witch-eye! Just a moment, hold this, will you dearie?" Jezebel said as she handed the witch-eye back to Lily. Jezebel stood up and went back to her shelves and began rooting around in them, muttering erratically to herself.

Great, Shella thought to herself as her hopes came crashing down, the old witch was mad and had been making it all up to please herself.

Lily spun the witch-eye around her fingers and then held it up to her eye as Jezebel had. She first looked at Shella, her pale eye blending in with the rock's hue, then at Jezebel. Then her gaze swept back to Shella and, after loitering, returned to Jezebel. She kept on going back and forth; clearly something had caught her eye.

"Whassa matter?" Shella asked.

Lily froze like a rabbit. She folded the witch-eye into her palm and shook her head vigorously.

"C'mon, lemme see th' rock."

Lily shook her head again.

Shella sighed and said, "C'mon, me sweet. If it works, 'm gonna need ta see through it fer meself, ain't I? 'S gonna hafta happen sometime."

Lily looked down at the witch eye with reserve and grudgingly handed it over to Shella.

The stone was ocean-polished smooth in Shella's hand. She ran her thumb across it and hooked into the hole in the center. It didn't feel special at all, though it was a curiosity. Shella put it to her eye and looked through, looking at nowhere in particular.