"It's nigh on a year," Jack said, watching her very carefully. "And no, we did not get over that, love. We went down the gullet of the Kracken. We cut it over and over again and made if spit us out, and we ended up 'ere, awright?"
Beckett had the.. she was talking about things she ought not to even know about, more or less understand. With the same tone of voice he'd used when he first saw Elizabeth, when he first saw the piece of Aztec gold around her neck, and with the exact same facial expression, Jack pressed on.
"How do you know that song?"
That song could not have been sung. That song being sung meant... Jack fished into his other pocket, making sure that the Piece of Eight was still there, and it was. What Elizabeth was saying was utterly impossible, in that case. The Bretheren Court could not have met. It wasn't possible.
Was this really Elizabeth? He had his doubts.
Narrowing his eyes, Jack took the compass out of his pocket, keeping it closed for a moment. It had worked for Hannibal. He'd handed it to the boy and the needle had spun, and it had pointed to the girl. To.. Rye Bread? No, that wasn't right. Rita? Rachel? Rain? Riv... RIVER! YES! To River!
Jack squeezed his eyes shut and heard the compass click, and opened one eye to look at where the needle pointed.
It pointed straight at Elizabeth.
Oh. God.
He'd really hoped the City was messing with him. Somehow, he thought that might be easier to bear than dealing with everything she said. But now? Now that meant...
Jack snapped the compass closed and stuffed it back in his pocket. He had to backpedal, now.
"I don't remember. I'm sorry about your father. S'bout time someone got Feng. ...I... voted.... for you?"