Chapter 9: The Price of the Deep

The day after Remy’s mutiny was one of sombre toil. Under a mercifully bright sky, the Ranger limped to a tiny nameless isle, a green sliver ringed by a crescent of white sand with nay a foot laid upon it, to make very urgent repairs. The crew beached her at high tide, careening the hull to patch the worst of the breach with tar and planks. It was grueling work, and the men welcomed it; better the swing of hammers than idle stewing over dark and mysterious prophecies.

Edward worked touching shoulder to shoulder with Jack, hands black with pitch as they pressed strips of canvas into the hull crack. Each heartbeat thumped loud with the knowledge of what neared: tomorrow night, the moon would be dark. The Leviathan would wake.

As the sun sagged westward, Hornigold called a halt. The hull was as sound as they could make it. The Ranger bobbed in the shallows, eager to sail the seven seas once more. The men moved stiffly as if a fire was lit. Their muscles aching from labor and wounds. Many casting uneasy glances at the darkening horizon.

They made camp on the beach to rest until the night tide rose high enough to relaunch. A small fire crackled, pitiful against the vast twilight sky. A few men passed a bottle of handmade rum, but quietly, no songs or witty rhymes tonight. The usual bravado had been siphoned away by exhaustion and looming dread.

Jack sat apart near the waterline, sharpening her dagger with slow, steady strokes. Edward approached, the sand cool under his bare feet. He eased down beside her, close enough that they touched.

She acknowledged him with a faint smile. “How’s your hand?” she asked, nodding at his bandaged palm where the witch had cut him.

He flexed it. The wound smarted but was clean. “I’ll live.”

A pause, filled by the rhythmic hush of waves. Beyond the reef, the sea was unnaturally calm again. No wind murmured beyond a light breeze. The crew not on watch tried to sleep, weapons and harnesses at the ready by their sides.

“We should reach the astrolabes coordinates by tomorrow,” Edward said softly. It had been checked; it showed their path unwaveringly into the open sea.

Jack offered a faint smirk. “And then?”

Edward swallowed. “And then… we face whatever comes.” They both knew what that was: the Leviathan, the crown’s final guardian, and the price demanded.

Jack sheathed her trusty dagger. In the dusk her face was all soft shadows, her disguise of rough manner and soot smudges momentarily peeled away. Edward could see the outline of the young woman she truly was, vulnerable yet unbroken.

“Are you afraid?” she asked quietly, not looking at him.

Edward considered lying, but he owed her truth. “Yes.”

Jack nodded, drawing her knees to her chest. “Me too.”

Another gentle wave rolled in, covering their feet in foamy water before receding.

“When I was little,” Jack began unexpectedly, “my village would sacrifice a goat to the sea every spring. We believed it kept storms away. Once, I remember asking my mother what would happen if the sea wanted more than a goat.” Jake gave a brittle laugh. “She told me the sea would take what it wanted regardless. That we made sacrifices to feel like we had any control.”

Edward studied her profile. “Where was your village?”

Jack hesitated, then said, “A tiny place on the Irish coast. My mother was a fisherman’s widow. Tough as old barnacles. When I was twelve, the magistrate’s son…” Her jaw tightened. “He decided a peasant girl was his for the taking. I bloodied his nose with a fire iron. Because of me we had to flee that night. Came into the port of Nassau on a trading sloop.”

Edward felt a surge of admiration and fury on her behalf. That she had endured such trials… and fought back. “What happened then?” He asked.

“Mom found work mending sails while I ran wild on the docks, dressed as a scrappy boy renamed jack for safety. It was freeing, in a way.” Jack toyed with a bit of driftwood. “She died of fever about a year or so later. I kept the disguise. It was easier to fend for myself as Jack than as Jacqueline. Then out of the mist I heard Benjamin Hornigold recruiting for a crew. A new start, a family of sorts ” Her voice caught, echoing Edward’s own longing.

“You found family,” Edward said softly. “We’re your family, Jacqueline, no matter what form you take.”

Finally, she looked at him, eyes shining with unshed tears in the dusk. “Even if they all knew the truth?”

He placed his bandaged hand over hers on the sand. “I can’t speak for all, but Hornigold values loyalty above all. You’ve proved yours ten times over. The others… they’d follow you into hell, I wager. I know that I wouldn't falter at your call to face down the Gates Of Hell.”

A silence fell, filled only by the whisper of the sea. Jack exhaled a trembling breath. “Thank you, Edward. For keeping my secret. For, just, thank you.”

He realized his heart was a drum pounding loudly into his ear, practically ready to leap out of his mouth. In the dim, he could barely discern where his hand ended and hers began. “Whatever comes tomorrow, I’m glad you’re here,” he said.

Jack shifted nearer. Her shoulder brushed closely onto his; the contact was like a spark. “I’m glad it’s with you,” she whispered.

They sat like that as the sky turned indigo and stars pricked through the veil of night. Words failed where simple closeness spoke louder. Edward found himself imagining, despite everything, a future beyond blood and sea, a quiet life, perhaps, with someone like Jacqueline at his side. The image felt as fragile and fleeting as an oceans bubble.

A sudden commotion at the crew's fire drew them back. Hornigold was standing, speaking to the crew in a low, firm tone that carried over the surf.

“The beast we face tomorrow is flesh and blood,” he said. “Massive, aye, and fearsome. But it can be wounded, maybe even slain. We have cannons, powder, balls, and courage.” He scanned their tired faces. “We’ll not throw any man to it like an offering. Not while I have breath. So put steel in your spines, lads. We fight as one, and we’ll prevail or die with steel in hand. No one is being sacrificed without a damned fight.”

A rumble of agreement greeted his words. Edward felt Jack grip his hand tightly at Hornigold’s declaration. The captain’s refusal to meekly accept the witch’s terms was a needed tonic.

Israel Hands, head still bandaged from Remy’s pistol whip, raised a bottle. “To hell with monsters and witches. The Ranger will show ’em our broadside!” A more genuine cheer answered this, albeit hushed.

It wasn’t bravado exactly, it was defiance. A way to thumb their noses at fate. Edward drank in the moment, weary men finding their nerve again around a sputtering fire under the indifferent stars.

Soon, the tide turned. With a push and many straining backs, they got the Ranger afloat under the moonless sky. The crew reboarded, quieter now but steadied by resolve. Sails were trimmed, and the ship crept back into open water like a ghost in the dark.

Edward took the helm for the first watch, Jack right by his side. Hornigold wanted his most trusted on duty through the critical night. The astrolabe hung in a gimbal before the wheel, its enchanted runes gleaming faintly. It showed unerringly ahead, into blackness.

Jack fetched a lantern, shielding it to not spoil Edward’s night vision, and checked the astrolabe headings. “On course,” she confirmed, her voice was a soft anchor in the vast night.

The hours dragged on as the Ranger glided seamlessly onward. The sea seemed unsettlingly calm again. No wind murmured beyond a light breeze. The crew not on watch tried to sleep, weapons and harnesses at the ready by their sides.

In the early hours of morning, Edward felt it: a subtle change in the air, like the intake of breath before a scream. The water below turned to flat glass. Schools of fish flickered at the surface, racing past as if fleeing something behind.

Suddenly, from the depths came a low vibration, so deep that Edward had felt it in his bones rather than hearing it. Jack’s eyes quickly met his, both understanding. The Leviathan stirred.

“Captain!” Edward called softly. Hornigold was already on deck, spyglass in hand, scanning the horizon though the dawn that had not yet broken.

Far ahead, where the astrolabe aimed, the sea began to glow an eerie blue and green. At first Edward thought it to be the first hint of sunrise, but it emanated from beneath the waves, a vast bloom of phosphorescence lighting from within the deep.

Jack rang the ship's brass bell and the crew men awoke and gathered at the rails, hushed curses and prayers upon their lips. Israel Hands loaded his long musket with trembling fingers. Cannon crews quietly ran out the guns, their faces set in pallid determination.

Edward’s mouth was dry. He kept one hand firm on the wheel, the other resting on the lucky piece of eight he wore around his neck. Please, he thought to Poseidon, see us through this cursed night.

Jack now stood at the bow, pistol and cutlass at her hips, her silhouette taut but unflinching. In the ghostly glow, she looked like an Amazonian warrior out of mythic legend.

Suddenly, the astrolabe glowed crazily and then locked into a deep obsidian. The deck lurched, whether from their hearts of the crew collectively skipping or the sea shifting beneath them, none could tell.

Hornigold’s voice cut through the silence like a drop of water in an empty black cave: “Steady, all! Gunners, ready the rounds! Wait for my mark.”

Edward locked the wheel and joined Jack at the forecastle. They peered over the bow. The luminescence below swirled, forming a gigantic ring of light. Within that ring, shadows moved, something colossal rising from the deep.

A sound echoed up, a groan like the earth itself in pain. The Leviathan’s cry, it froze every man’s blood like the arctic sea.

Edward thought of the witch’s words, “A sacrifice.” Would it truly demand one of them? He dared a fierce glance around at his crewmates, brothers and sisters in arms. Not one life here would he be willing to give up freely. If the sea wanted blood, it would have to take it from them by force.

He grit his teeth, adrenaline coursing through him like a thief in the prowl. “If this monster wants a fight,” he murmured to Jack, “we’ll give it one to remember.”

Jack nodded, face pale but resolute. “As Family.”

The first mate’s voice rang out: “There! Off the starboard bow!”

All eyes snapped right. The glowing ring fissured as a mountain breached the surface. Water cascaded like crimson blood from its ridged, scale armored flesh. Its color was of the midnight sky. Two gargantuan horns curved twice from a head that could have been easily mistaken for an island’s craggy outcrop. Then came the eyes, each the size of a merchant sail, burning with forbidden ancient knowledge and rage, fixed directly upon the tiny ship daring to trespass.

Silence and wonder had befallen the entire crew. Only the rising of the mighty beast and lapping of the wake against the Ranger could be heard in the endless blackness of the vast sea. Edward’s heart slammed against his ribs. The Leviathan was beyond any nightmare he could ever fathom, a literal living mountain had risen to bury them into the depths. 

“Fire!” Hornigold roared.

In unison, the Ranger’s cannons erupted, spewing flame and iron into the predawn gloom. The barrage struck the beast’s hide with puffs of smoke and steam. Edward saw cannonballs strike the creature’s hide, some bounced off into the sea with mighty splashes, but a few found softer flesh between scales. Black ichor sprayed from a wound, spattering the deck in oily gouts.

The Leviathan recoiled and issued a shriek so shrill Edward’s vision vibrated. It thrashed, tail slamming the water. The shockwave rocked the Ranger, nearly capsizing her. Some men were knocked flat, others were thrown directly overboard. Barrels and crates full of supplies went flying madly about the deck.

For a brief moment, Edward allowed himself hope. They had hurt it. Perhaps it was over as soon as it began.

Unfortunately, the Leviathan’s fury had doubled. It plunged under the surface. An eerie quiet fell but for the sloshing of water pouring off the sails and lapping against the hull.

“Where is it?!” Jack yelled, eyes scanning the sea.

Edward could see nothing but churning foam and thick cannon smoke. The remaining crew stood tense at guns and rails, weapons ready but unsure where to aim.

A crew member in the shrouds screamed and pointed straight down. “Below us!”

Edward’s blood ran cold. “It’s under the ship!”

“Move! Move!” Hornigold bellowed at the helm, but there was no time.

With titanic force, the Leviathan rammed the Ranger from beneath. The entire ship lurched upward as if on a mighty swell, timbers wailing. The keel buckled with a thunderous crack. Edward and Jack were thrown hard to the deck, the impact driving the breath from his lungs. 

When Edward staggered up, he saw a massive shape coiled around the ship’s middle. The Leviathan’s body, thicker than an old redwood trunk, was squeezing the Ranger. Wood crackled like fire snapping sharply Cannons toppled like little boys toys. The monster was undoubtedly trying to crush them in half.

Hornigold, now hanging onto the wheel, locked eyes with Edward across the chaos. In that instant, a terrible understanding passed between them. The ship could not withstand this. Not without a distraction.

Hornigold dropped from the quarterdeck and began cutting through the line that secured the nearest longboat. Edward’s eyes widened to the whites. “Benjamin, no!” He beckoned hoarsely. 

Hornigold shouted to be heard over the furry. “Listen, all of you! Prepare to abandon ship on my signal!” He grabbed two nearby crew by the shoulders, forcing a steady tone. “Get the powder kegs into this boat, now!”

The men obeyed, scrambling to hoist two small barrels of gunpowder over the side into the longboat. Hornigold seized a well lit lantern from a nearby hook.

Realization dawned on Edward with horror. Hornigold meant to row out and blow the powder, himself along with it, as a diversion.

The prophecy. It demanded a life. Hornigold was going to fulfill.

“No!” Edward dashed across the quickly buckling deck, Jack right at Edward’s heels. They caught Hornigold as he was about to climb into the loaded boat.

Edward stiffly grabbed his arm. “There must be another way!”

Hornigold looked at the young man he had brought from the slums of Bristol’s alleys, pride and sorrow mingled on his wrinkly weather ragged face. “This is my ship boy,” he said hoarsely. “My family. My responsibility.”

Jack was crying openly, shaking her head. “We can fight it together!”

A rending sound cut through the plea. The Ranger’s mainmast splintered, toppling into the sea as the Leviathan’s coils tightened. The monster’s head reared up again, looming over them with ten thousand jagged teeth yearning to finish the kill.

Hornigold pushed Edward and Jack toward the longboat. “Get the crew clear and that’s my final order. Edward, ” He fixed him with a fierce fatherly stare. “You’re captain now. Protect your family.”

Edward’s eyes clasped gleaming tears. “Captain, Ben, please, ”

Hornigold managed a gruff smile and clapped Edward once on the shoulder, the same way he had when Edward first came aboard. Then with decisive force, he shoved him and Jack off the deck into the longboat. They tumbled in amidst the powder kegs with a splash.

“Row, Hands! Tow them away!” Hornigold roared at Israel Hands, who had likewise jumped to the boat.

Israel Hands hesitated only a heartbeat, tears streaming down his face, before he grabbed the oars and began pulling with all his might, dragging the longboat away from the Ranger.

“No! Go back!” Edward shouted, scrambling up, but Jack threw her arms around him, holding him down. “It’s too late,” she sobbed.

All around, other longboats filled with crew were pushing off as the ship shuddered and began to break apart. Hornigold’s order had been clear to all.

From the shimmering water, Edward looked up at the ruin of the Ranger. Hornigold stood alone on the buckling deck, lantern in one hand, cutlass in the other. The Leviathan lunged, jaws enveloping the center of the ship in a splintering crunch.

At that instant, Hornigold hurled the lantern into the spilled gunpowder around the beast’s coils.

A blinding white light encapsulated the fury. The night briefly turned to day as all of the Ranger’s powder had ignited. A massive fireball consumed the center of the ship and the Leviathan’s midsection with it. The roar of the blast and the unearthly screech of the creature mingled in an agonized crescendo.

The longboat was immediately rocked by the shockwave, nearly capsizing. Edward and Jack clung to the wooded thwarts as a searing gust of heat washed over them forcing them to wince. Burning debris rained onto the sea.

When Edward blinked his eyes clear, the Ranger was gone, reduced to flaming wreckage. Of Hornigold, there was no sign. Where the Leviathan had been wrapped around the hull, a mass of blackened, smoking flesh thrashed. The beast, gravely wounded, let out a keening wail that tapered into a gurgle. Its coils slackened.

“It’s letting go!” Israel Hands cried.

In disbelief, Edward watched as the Leviathan, bleeding and half-blinded, uncoiled from the shattered remnants of the ship. With a final, earsplitting bellow, it slid back beneath the waves, vanishing into the depths from whence it came. A massive pool of dark blood and oil swirled on the surface. 

For a long moment, the only sounds were the crackle of floating debris and the labored breathing of the survivors in the bobbing longboats.

“He did it,” Jack whispered, voice trembling. “Hornigold drove it off.”

Edward stared at the spot where his captain, friend and mentor, had last stood. Hot tears blurred his vision. Hornigold was gone. He had given himself to fulfill the bargain and save them all.

The dawn sun finally crested the infinite horizon, its golden light falling on a sea of destruction. Dozens of pirates in a few small boats drifted amid wreckage, faces streaked with soot, salt, and grief. They were alive, but their ship and captain were lost.

Israel Hands ceased rowing. Everyone in the boats sat in stunned silence, absorbing their deliverance and the cost at which it came. Many openly wept or bowed their heads in respect.

Edward felt Jack’s hand squeeze his. He turned to her and then around at the ragged survivors looking to him for guidance, just as Hornigold had intended.

He stood unsteadily in the swaying longboat, saltwater and tears on his cheeks. “Raise oars,” he managed, voice rough. “Link the boats together. We’ll make for that island.” He pointed to the tiny isle they’d left, the only refuge in sight.

Wordlessly, they paddled, the boats gathering and lashing into a flotilla. Edward noticed many eyes flicking to him, confusion and pain writ there, but also glimmers of respect. Hornigold’s final command had named Edward captain, and none seemed to question it now. 

Before they set off, Edward cleared his throat. “Benjamin Hornigold!” he called out over the water, voice breaking but loud. “He bought our lives with his. May he live on within us all. Not just a memory, but a legend.”

A chorus of voices answered softly, “Aye!”

Jack looked to Edward, his back facing her. He now seemed different somehow. As if he had been bathed by shadows. Reborn into the leader he was always meant to be. Into what Benjamin had seen that no other person could. 

Edward pointed to the small island. “Row,” he ordered gently.

As the sun climbed, the survivors rowed toward the island, leaving behind the smoking, blood stained sea where the Leviathan had been thwarted. Edward collapsed beside Jack, the new captain suddenly feeling the weight of every soul now in his charge.

The Leviathan was seemingly gone for now. The Crown of Tides still waited ahead. The cost of reaching it had begun to tally. The deep had taken its price in Captain Hornigold’s blood. Grief and resolve warred in Edward’s chest.

He closed his eyes and silently swore to the spirit of his fallen mentor. “I will see this through. Your sacrifice will not be in vain.”

In the clear morning sky above, gulls cried out, circling the debris as the longboats pressed on. A chapter had ended in fire and thunder. Edward Teach, lifted his face to the rising sun and embraced the pain and purpose searing within him. The sea had demanded a price, and it had been paid in full. Now, the final leg of their journey beckoned through the smoke, toward destiny.