Chapter 17: Pestilence
*****
"You've got to be shitting me. No way in hell."
Jack held back a laugh as he stared into Greg's disbelieving face. It had already been several hours since they'd returned to the
Destiny
from Kat's island home, and Jack had already shared his version of the events twice. It didn't stop Greg from being any more accepting of the story, a fact that Jack couldn't fault him for.
He wasn't even sure if he really believed all that happened. It still felt like the previous couple days had been spent in a dream, and that any moment, he would wake up cradling Kat and Abigail just to find it was all a conjuring of his wildest imagination.
Try as he might, he never quite woke up.
"I know it's hard to believe," said Jack as he tapped his fingers against his own desk. "But here we are."
"I mean, it finally gives us a real explanation for that blond head of yours," said Greg with a laugh. "But the rest of it just seems too fantastical. Prophecies, dead kings, a magical swordβit's a bit much for me, Jack."
"And how do you think I'm feeling about all of it?" asked Jack with a chuckle. "I didn't know any of this until Kat sat me down a few nights ago. Then of all people, I get to meet my own grandmother the next day. And find out that Vera is my long lost sister? Believe me, if anyone's head is still spinning, it's mine."
Greg threw up his hands. "Even Vera! What are the odds that some girl we rescued back in Sorella is your sister?"
"Kat seems to think the fates guided us to each other. A meeting that was supposed to happen," said Jack with a shrug. "Just as it was foretold that I would free the slaves back in Andalucia."
Greg gave him a confused look. "I thought you hated everything to do with prophecy, Jack? But now you seem so accepting of it? Why is that?"
Jack had to think about that one long before he answered. Greg had a point. The whole thing still made his skin crawl. It wasn't that he'd decided to accept everything that the prophecy had written about him, because to do so would mean that he gave up his free willβsomething that he could never do.
However, he couldn't deny the existence of all of these "coincidences" that had the bad habit of proving the lines of prophecy true. Even though parts of him thought the written lines were so vague that they could be applied to just about any event and still loosely fit.
It was a gray area for him and one where he couldn't decide if he believed it or not. At this point, he was just along for the ride until something else happened.
Jack finally shrugged. "I'm not sure if I can explain where my head is at right now. Part of me wants to just go back to where I was last week, just a regular Javan naval officer on a mission. The other part of me feels some sort of belonging or purpose to what's been revealed. It's an innate curiosity that keeps burning inside, and it makes me want to continue down this hole until I find the bottom of it. I don't know what to believe, Greg. But so far, the evidence of this has been a little overwhelming."
Greg pursed his lips. "Well, since you mentioned it, I'm dying to see this sword in action."
Jack chuckled. "It's right over there." Not far from his desk laid the rectangular box that contained the sword of the Galician King. Jack hadn't removed it since they left the house, feeling content just to keep it locked away. Putting it on would be tantamount to accepting all the prophecy meant.
He just wasn't ready to do that quite yet.
Greg walked over to the box and opened the lid gently. As soon as he looked at the sword, he let out a low whistle. "It's a beauty, all right. It's been well-taken care of throughout the years. It still has that new shine to it."
"Speaking of shine, watch this," said Jack as he got up from his chair. He approached the box and picked up the scabbard with the sword still inside. The weight of it was considerable at first, but once Jack's hand wrapped around the grip, he pulled it free in a quick motion, swishing it through the air.
Greg took a step back. "Whoa, easy with that thing. It certainly looks heavy though."
Jack nodded. "It looks heavy once you see it, but once you pull out the sword, it almost feels weightless. I can't exactly explain it but it feels so light in my own hands. Not to mention this right here." Jack pointed to the pommel, which had begun to glow with the same blue light he'd seen back at the house. The explosion of light was near instantaneous as soon as his hand touched the grip, and the light flickered brighter the longer he touched it.
"Would you look at that?" whispered Greg as he leaned in closer to the sword. "How is that possible?"
Jack shrugged. "I have no idea. I've never seen anything like it before."
"It's flickering, Jack. It's like the sword is . . . happy."
"Do swords get happy?"
Greg laughed. "It looks like yours does!"
Jack looked at the light again. Every time his eyes locked on it, it seemed to pulse with greater hue than before. It was like the sword knew when it had his attention and was pleased to receive it.
"Does that happen when anyone touches it?" asked Greg.
"I have no idea. No one else touched it besides me," said Jack, as he offered it over to Greg. "Go on, see what happens."
Jack had no sooner handed off the sword to Greg when something remarkable happened. The expression on Greg's face changed from curiosity to extreme exertion as his fingers wrapped around the grip. Jack had to jump back quickly as the sword slipped out of Greg's hands, crashing against the floor with a loud racket.
Greg's mouth fell open as he looked to Jack and then back at the sword. "How much does that damn thing weigh, Jack?"
Jack gave him a confused look. "It's not that much! Why'd you drop it?"
Greg leaned over to try and pick it up. "Because the bloody thing weighs a ton." He wrapped his hand around the grip and pulled. Nothing happened, and the sword remained stationary on the floor. He used both hands, pressing up with his knees and still the sword didn't budge. Notable as well was that the blue light from the pommel had ceased as soon as Jack let go of the sword. It remained lifeless even now as Greg tried to pry it from the ground.
Jack started to shake his head, wondering if Greg was pulling a joke. "Let me do it," he said while he bent to pick up the sword. The blue light returned instantly as soon as his hand was around the grip, and he pulled it up as if it were no heavier than a feather.
The color drained from Greg's face. "How did you do that?"
Jack shrugged. "I just picked it up."
Greg started to look around and then pointed to Jack's desk. "Put it down on the desk. I want to try that again."