A Change In Tides

Chapter 1: A Strange Encounter

"One..."

Clink.

"Two..."

Clink.

"Three..."

The shillings land into the palm of my hand as the man counts them aloud.

"Thank you... Give your father my regards."

"I will!" I smile and wave as I run towards a narrow alleyway.

I slip through and onto the next street, running trough the mass of people that pass and making my way to the old library.

As I open the door, I take in the familiar aroma that surrounds me. The scent of musty books and damp furniture. The air was stale but it was comforting to me, it was my home.

"Father, I'm back!" I holler. I work alongside my father in the old library that had been passed through my family for many centuries.

This place was my life. I ate, slept and grew in this place. I made my way to the back of the building. We had two small bedrooms, a kitchen and my father's workspace, separated from the public by a dark curtain.

"I'll be out in a moment." My father replies.

I grab a random book from one of the shelves and fall into an old arm chair. Dust flies up into the air and I fan it away with my free hand.

I examine the book, running my index finger along it's well worn spine. How many times have I read this one? I spent most of my days as a child reading all of the books we had collected. If somebody asked for a book I knew exactly where is was and what is was about.

I quickly flip through its pages, sinking into the chair. Why is my life so lack lustre? I sigh.

"Are you finished the delivery?" My father spoke as he pushed the curtain aside with his walking stick.

"Mmhm." I nodded.

My father was not just any old librarian. Along with this building we also inherited many life times worth of secrets, magical secrets... if you believe in such things.

He scuffs his way to the window, sitting on its sill. His long, frizzy locks shone in the sunlight like steel wool. His face looked tired and weather beaten.

"Did Mr. Wains' medicine serve him well?" He asked, not looking in my direction.

"Yes, he's making a full recovery." He nodded in approval of my words. My father was a witch. Any ailment in the book, he had a cure for it. It was amazing. But sadly he was forced to work under the table, as all our ancestors were, because in Port Royal there was only one punishment for witchcraft. Death.

My thoughts where interrupted by the creek of the front door. A customer.

"Good day, I was looking for a book.... By the name of 'The Birds of Connor's Cove'".

My father gently pushes himself off of the window's sill and motions with his head for the man to follow. They both go into the back, behind the curtain.

There was no such book....It was code for requesting my father's 'other services'. Only a handful of people know this, for safety reasons of course.

I feel a sharp pain in my spine, at this point I had completely slumped into the chair. I stand and stretch my limbs, supporting myself on the sill where my father hand just sat. I wonder what had been going trough his mind as I stare into my reflection in the dusty glass.

My hair was pale blonde, pulled back into a messy bun that sat low on my head. My facial features were soft and round and my eyes were a striking blue, just like my mother's as my father had always told me. I wrap my fingers around the coin shaped pendant that hung around my neck and lose myself in thought.

....

Until suddenly I catch a glimpse of movement in the corner of my eye and lean forward to get a closer look. There was a man crawling underneath my window, his head on a swivel. I force the window open with both hands and the bang of the wood causes him to jump to his feet.

"What in god's name!" I exclaim. "What are you doing?"

He scratches the top of his head as if trying to find an answer.

"I'm looking for the library! You wouldn't know where that could be, do you?"

"Your here..." I answer reluctantly. "but why are you being so sneaky about it?"

"Well you see, love... my 'kind' aren't the most popular around these parts." He wore his hair in dreads, tied back by a red bandanna across his forehead. Various charms hang from it. He strokes his braided beard and grins as he speaks. His silver teeth shine bright against his sun kissed skin.

"Ah.. a pirate." I mutter. Many pirates come looking for my father but they usually try to appear a little more.... inconspicuous.

"Not just any pirate! I am the Captain Jack Sparrow!" He holds out his arms as if revealing a prize. "I'm sure you've heard of me?" He said it with determination yet it still came out as a question.

"I've heard some not-so-great things from the pirates that pass through." I recall.

"So you have heard of me!" He squawks excitedly.

"So what do you want?" I exhale, already tired of this interaction.

"I need some 'special' help...if you know what I mean?" He waves his fingers at the word 'special' and I roll my eyes.

"Whats the password?"

"Theres a password!?" His eyes widen.

I scoff and walk away, arms crossed. I look over my shoulder when I hear a thud, he had climbed through the window.

"We have a door you know."

"I know, but what fun is that?" He chucked as he brushed off his soiled brown jacket and readjusted his belt.

I turn toward him, arms still crossed."If you don't know the code I'm going to have to ask you to leave." I seethed.

He approached me, leaning forward so that our faces were only inches apart. "I am on a very important mission that requires your assistance. You can help me willingly, or..." I hear a click and feel the head of a pistol against the base of my chin. "We can do it the hard way, savvy?"

I clench my jaw, I refuse to show weakness. I look into his dark eyes, trying to read into his expression, trying to figure out if his intensions are genuine.

I can't risk my families safety...

What should I do...?