Once the cannon is readied, Nicolas turns it toward the small boat, and then we all get a few moments to bask in the panic on Norrington’s face as he sees that cannon swing their way.

Norrington shouts orders to the men. The boat begins to turn. Nicolas is ready to fire the cannon, and for a heartbeat, as he pauses, I think he has changed his mind. But no, he is only waiting for the correct angle, because he is a decent man, even when dealing with those who seek to kill him.

Nicolas fires when the smaller ship presents her starboard side. The cannon booms, and the ball blows a hole through, near the stern.

More shouts, rising above the wind. The men clamber over the deck and disappear belowdecks. Their boat turns in a lazy circle as our ship pulls away.

We stand there until we are certain their craft is disabled.

“Will they sink?” I say.

“Not if they can get her to shore in time, which they appear to be doing.” Nicolas backs away from the cannon. “That was a most pleasant diversion. However . . .”

“It does not change the fact that our ship is heading out to sea.”

He motions for me to follow him back above deck. Once we’re there, he lets out a curse in French.

“Non,” he says. “We are not heading to sea. We are heading to shore. To dash upon the rocks.” He turns. “Andrés? You know more than I do about navigation. How do I steer her toward shore and slow her progress?”

“Steer her toward shore?” I say.

“I would prefer to simply run aground, but at worst, we could jump if we were close enough to shore.”

“Ah, I see. Yes, that makes sense.”

Andrés motions that he can help instruct Nicolas on how to steer and slow the ship, and he does, showing me the correct riggings to use and how to turn the sails, which I pass onto Nicolas as we do it together. Soon, while we are still heading for the shore—the rocky shore—we have slowed.

Nicolas continues working on the sails. Through the spyglass, he sees what looks like safer shoreline ahead.

As he navigates, I talk to Andrés. It is not uncommon for ghosts to be bound to the site of their death, especially when it is something like a ship. If that is the case, I need to ask my questions now. Should the ship run aground, we may not be easily able to return for my questions.

We will return—of course—to set Andrés free. First, I must know who killed him. That is the key. I must name his killer, and I cannot make a mistake or I risk condemning him to life as a ghost.

I ask questions, and he answers in nods and shakes of his head and through pantomime. He must stop now and then to give instructions for Nicolas, when the ship does not behave as she ought, but otherwise, we are left to our discourse. Soon, I have a picture of what happened to him.