Jack sends Will a message.
The boy had hung around once Will'd admitted his name until he'd fished out a small coin, then thrust a leather-wrapped parcel at him and run off. Retreating into the smithy, he'd shook loose the cover to find a dagger and a scrawled message.
Just thout I'd send ya a riminder - pirats have this litle thing called 'freedom.' The Pearl's always got a plase for Bootstrap's kin, espeshly wun as piraty as yoorself.
The script had been nearly illegible, due to a combination of Jack's awful writing skills and the fact it had been written on the leather wrapping with charcoal. The entire parcel had smelt of rum and gunpowder.
With disbelief, Will rotated the dagger to see his own maker's mark etched clearly beneath the handle.