The Broken Compass

By this time, Cal had already unwrapped his arm from around Belle's body, releasing her from his near choke-hold grasp, and had moved in on Adam, holding his pistol closer and closer to his head. As the pirate spoke, the queen could not tear her eyes from her king. His own sapphire-colored irises were red at the corners, as if he too had been holding back raw emotion-- though Belle knew none of it had been traditional fear. He was livid. He was simply waiting for one single moment for the pirate to appear weak before he could pummel him to the ground. Sparrow was right in not offering the beast of a man that opportune moment.

When Calico tossed her some worn cube-shaped item, she fumbled to catch it. Holding the small relic in the palm of her semi-bloody hand, her usual curious self reappeared for a fleeting moment. Belle opened the compass and, as if possessed by magic, the needle that should of been pointing north was instead pointing straight toward her husband. She quickly looked to him then back down at the face of the strange tracking device.

That wasn't right.

She lifted an eyebrow and tilted her head, peering skeptically at the pirate. "And how exactly does a broken compass come close to equaling the immeasurable value of my husband's life?"

< Prev : Mere Insurance Next > : Whatever You Want Most