Instead of the watch, my fingers found the jackknife. The instant I grabbed it, boarding hooks bit into the wood beside me with sharp thunks.

“Haul!” someone yelled. Startlingly close. “Bring in the line!”

The skiff jerked as the lines went taut. Lantern light spilled through the splintered holes in the hull. Sewel sat up, resting his back against it, giving the destroyed wood only a passing glance.

“Throw your weapons over or we’ll blow you out of the water!” yelled one of the marines, even as they hauled us in like a fish on a line.

“I don’t much like either choice,” Sewel said.

“It doesn’t matter, Sewel. You’re dead.”

He looked at me. “I been dead longer than you’ve been alive.” He heaved himself up and aimed the pistol.

Cracks exploded into the night. His body jerked back. His shoulder tore off. His hand disappeared in a bloody spray. Other pieces of him burst and broke.

The gunboat struck the skiff with a loud crunch. What was left of Sewel toppled into the river with a splash.

Men vaulted over me. Blurs. They landed in the skiff with explosions of water. I saw the flash of a musket stock coming at my head and reacted, burying the knife into the nearest limb. Then my head snapped back and darkness took me.

The smell of sickness brought me back. I stirred awake and found myself on the floor of a ship’s cabin, my face pressed to the dirty wool blanket that held the offending odor. Weak daylight floated in through a porthole. Two berths were fixed into the curve of the bulkhead.

Duncan sat on the lower one, elbows on his knees, my pocket watch dangling from his hands. He swung it back and forth as he watched me stir. Next to his black shoes, a lone candle burned a tall flame.

Inch by painful inch, I raised myself to sitting.

Nothing felt right. My head felt broken, my neck stiff. My pulse shrieked in my ears. I rubbed one hand over my aching throat. “Duncan?”

I didn’t recognize the look on his face. Disgust? Fury? Or was it heartbreak?

He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry you were struck. It was dark and things happened quickly. The marines saw a threat to my life and reacted.”

I didn’t understand. A threat to his life? Then I noticed the bandage around his thigh. Blood had seeped through it, a scarlet bloom. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

“You didn’t what? Didn’t intend to stab me? As far as I can tell, your only error was stabbing me in the leg instead of in the back. But you did that too, didn’t you?”

I couldn’t disagree. I had stabbed him in the back. I’d done it as I’d smiled at him and danced with him and kissed him.

“How long?” he asked.

“A while.”

“Since the beginning?”

“Yes.”

“I see.” His eyes glossed with tears. “Was it always your plan?”