“Please!” Emily says. “I know he may deserve death, but please do not kill him.”

I had no intention of killing Jenkins. I’m not certain I could murder a person unless I had no choice, and that is not the situation here. Still, Emily does not know that and neither does her father. I press my sword tip in until blood trickles down his throat.

“Do you not deserve death?” I say. “To be cast into a realm where Andrés can truly exact his revenge? Where you must choose between his torments and the torments of eternity?”

Jenkins blanches and quavers, and I must restrain the urge to embellish the prospects that lie before him. He understands them well enough.

“No,” I say. “I will not kill you.”

I lower my blade. Jenkins’s gaze shoots to Nicolas.

“You betrayed me,” Nicolas says. “You preyed on my good nature and the trusting nature of the town. They saved me, and I wanted to help, and you took advantage. You tried to kill me. You planned to ambush me from behind and let Norrington’s men take the blame. You did not seem to mind killing me outright. Perhaps you thought I did not count. I do count, and you will suffer for that in the next life, the intention to kill me and the attempt to kill my companion here. More sins piled on a very high heap.” Nicolas pulls his blade back. “I will not add your death to my own heap.”

Jenkins sags in relief.

“There is a door to your left,” Nicolas continues. “Please step sideways and go through it.”

He does as Nicolas asks. Or he does once Nicolas adds the incentive of another sword prick. Once he’s through the door, Nicolas slams it shut. Then I turn the key still jutting from the lock.

“Oh,” Nicolas calls. “Did I mention that is the brig? I suppose I forgot that part.”

“You are captured, Mr. Jenkins,” I say. “And the ship appears to be sinking. I do hope you can find a way out in time. But if you do not, please remember that we didn’t actually kill you. That part is very important.”

Andrés waves his hands, and the ship gives another lurch as Jenkins shouts and bangs on the locked door.

“We must help Emily off the ship,” Nicolas pants, “before it breaks apart.”

“I do not believe the situation is quite so dire,” I say with a wink at Andrés. The boy grins, and the ship gives a shudder before coming to a rest.

“M-my father,” Emily whispers from across the gap in the floor. “I know he has done terrible things but—”

Nicolas helps me over the hole. Then I bend beside her and whisper assurances—that Jenkins cannot hear—that we are not going to let him drown. I help Nicolas with her wound. The ball passed under her arm but did not break the ribs. While muscle is torn, and she has lost blood, Nicolas has bound it securely, and she is past her shock.