“If I was not all right, I wouldn’t have offered what I did.” I lean in to kiss him. “I’m fine. However, there is something I need to tell you.”

I explain to him about the ghost.

He winces. “Oh, I cannot imagine what a terrible thing that must be. Seeing your son destroy the legacy you worked so hard to build. By all accounts, the elder Lord Norrington was a fine man. Firm but fair, and the people mourn his passing still.”

“Especially considering who took over in his stead. No matter how ‘firm’ the elder Lord Norrington may have been, he was undoubtedly a saint compared to his son.”

“True enough.” He frowns. “If his ghost lingers, does that mean he was murdered?”

“Do you know how he died?”

“An ailment of some sort. No one questioned it.”

“Spirits linger for any unfinished business. In his case, it seems most likely that the unfinished business is his legacy and the damage his son is doing to both it and the people here. In any event, he does believe Norrington wants you dead, if you still had any doubts about that.”

“I cannot doubt he has murderous intent after what we believe he did to Andrés and what he attempted to do to us on the Temerity. I knew better than to let him take you alone and let me go ‘free.’ I mistrust anyone who offers to set a man free. It is always a trick.”

“I did hope he was serious, which is why I tried to accept the role of your employer. I did not mean any disrespect by it.”

“You thought that might be my way to freedom. It is not, and so I would ask you not to endanger yourself again on my behalf, please. The kestrel will stay in hiding from now on, watching from a safe tree branch.”

“If you really expect me to do that, Nico, you do not know me at all.”

He sighs. “I know, but I had to make the attempt. Just do not place yourself between Lord Norrington and me, please. He may think you a nobleman’s son, and that may seem to protect you, but I would not bet your life on it.”

“Understood.”

“Excellent. Now, I have a question, crécerelle. Do you have any fear of small places?”

“Not at all. Why?”

He grins and takes my hand. “I will show you.”

22

We are in the tunnels that lead to Hood’s Bay. I have heard of them. I have even, on one occasion, attempted to find them in my world when locals pretended not to know what I was talking about. Of course, I cannot tell Nicolas that I have heard of the tunnels that are—in his time—still in use and therefore still a secret, as their purpose is smuggling. I must act surprised, though I do not need to feign my delight at the prospect of using them to reach the village.

To access the tunnels at the church, one must crawl under a fallen slab that looks ready to collapse at any moment. Nicolas assures me that is an intentional impression. No one is going to look at that slab and say, “Oh, I should very much like to crawl underneath that.”