Pressing herself as far away from the cell door as possible, Jeanette cast about for anything she could use as a weapon. She grabbed the wooden bucket she had not had occasion to use yet, and edged closer to the door as it opened outward. She had an impression of a dirty male face and a flash of knife, and them she smashed the bucket into it, knocking the man backward and shoving past him into the cabin.

She saw the nun on the floor, bleeding from a cut on her cheek, while the pirate swore mightily behind her. Jeanette gathered up her skirts and pulled on the heavy brig door, slipping through just as she felt the man grabbing for her and missing. She didn't have a plan beyond finding the captain of the ship for protection, or, barring that, throwing herself into the ocean. Drowning was preferable to whatever would happen to her should the pirates catch her.

The sounds of battle still came from above decks, but the shouts were diminished. One side or the other was winning. Jeanette stumbled through the dark and narrow passage, heading for the ladder up, but a sailor's body tumbled down it in front of her, his neck at an unnatural angle. She put her hand to her mouth, and edged around the ladder. She could hide below decks until things calmed down, then run for it.

Someone grabbed her arms roughly, and she was pulled backward through a door, a hand clamping over her mouth and stifling her instinctive scream. "Be silent, witch," Inquisitor Castillo muttered in her ear, kicking the door closed in front of her and dragging her further into the cabin. The only light was from the moon dancing on the waves...they were in the captain's room, the only cabin with windows.