It was a better find than any treasure.

A boat.

A tiny boat, facedown, resting against the wall of the cave. I pushed the canvas completely to the floor. There were no obvious holes in the wood, although it was crumbling in places. Some of the pitch that must once have coated it was worn away, but it looked remarkably sound, considering.

A boat. On this island there was a fire-breathing dragon, an active volcano, and no fresh water supply. Sending a fire or smoke signal wasn’t going to be enough, or even possible, what with the dragon having me in its sights.

What I really needed was to escape. And now I could.

What was I waiting for? The light meant there must be a way out and now I had a boat. I grinned. I lifted the chest—how I’d ever thought it could contain gold I did not know, it was far too light—then slung the coil of rope over my shoulder, releasing clouds of spinning dust motes. I turned the boat over and felt my grin widen. It did seem to be whole. A little scrap of a thing, more like the rowboat a child would use to go fishing than the solid craft we used for our shore excursions from the Beagle. How had a boat so small ended up here—

My eyes tracked back into the space against the wall where it had been. My heart froze and I backed away, hand over my mouth.

A seated figure wearing a tricorn hat.

The head of the buccaneer was tipped forward, his tricorn hat thick with dust, his body wrapped in more of the stained canvas, like a shawl. I let out an awkward squeak of shock as I imagined an undead swashbuckler leaping up to ambush me, cutlass waving, before my good sense won the battle and my heart slowed.

I edged forward slowly, passing around the boat to get a closer look. I did not touch, simply bent to peer beneath the rim of the hat, and then ducked back gasping after catching a glimpse of his jaw.

Whether it was skin or bone, it looked like tanned leather. He’d been dead a very long time. Maybe he had been sealed in here and the earthquakes had only recently created a way out. That would be why the animals hadn’t gotten to him and he’d moldered away. Shivers ran up and down my spine and I made a sign of the cross.

There was plenty of real danger here—from the fire-breathing dragon and any other poisonous biter to the groaning earth and spitting volcano.

This fellow is the least of your worries.

“Well, forgive a boy for being a bit shaken, finding a corpse in a dark cave and all,” I said.

I crouched down in front of the buccaneer and whispered, “I don’t suppose you are going to be needing this boat anytime soon, sir?”