Pirates of the Caribbean: The Price of Freedom

trying to communicate with her, and was counting on Captain Sparrow
to accomplish his goal of convincing her to betray her home? And he
was willing to pay him well to get that information? Mr. Beckett must
indeed be growing desperate.
Ayisha knew Captain Sparrow, at least by reputation. For months
the slaves of Calabar had repeated the story of how he had helped a
runaway slave named Chamba escape from a master who had beaten
him senseless. Ayisha reflected that this Captain Sparrow must have
done so because he’d had an altercation with Chamba’s master. He
freed a black man just to spite his enemy. Interesting…
Ayisha began pinning fabric into place around the wooden form,
checking its drape, turning the awkward wooden torso, regarding it
from various angles, so she could see how light and shadow played
across the fabric.
It was nice to be making a woman’s dress again. After she’d
made Mr. Beckett several new outfits, he’d told Mistress Goodwright
that she could have a few new dresses and aprons made. Ayisha liked
Mistress Goodwright. The goodwife had openly praised her work. And,
even more valuable, she’d shown Ayisha two new ways of making
garments—crocheting and knitting. Neither of those methods of
making clothing was known in Zerzura.
As she tugged fabric and pinned, Ayisha wondered whether she’d
be here long enough to finish this dress. The thought that soon she
might be out of this house, away from Mr. Beckett and Mr. Mercer,
made her knees go weak. She sat down in her chair for a moment,
letting the idea of escape take shape in her mind, as though it were a
garment. Escape! For so long she’d thought about it, dreamed of it…
and now, it seemed, it might actually happen.
Ayisha began searching for matching thread amid her many
samples. She smiled faintly. When she left, she would be sure to take
all of her lovely, sharp, brass and iron needles. They stayed sharper
much longer than bronze or bone needles, and they were slimmer, less
clumsy. She’d also take her crochet hook, her knitting needles, and the
small hand-loom she’d put together, like the one she often used back
home.
The princess smiled as she ran her fingers gently over her many