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“Good. Then get to your positions. I want to see those sails out!”

The sailors were quick on their feet as they followed Andreas’s orders.

Once the king and prime minister find out we’re gone, we’ll have more to worry about than quadrilheiros; we’ll have the navy to deal with. And the São Nicolau may be fast, but she’s no match for Portugal’s finest ships. These next few minutes could mean the difference between freedom and…execution.

“Of all the times to go out for a drink!” Andreas grumbled, slamming a fist against the mainmast.

“Is there any way we can help?” Lucia asked, but she didn’t realize she was blocking one of the sailors from moving past her.

Santiago gently grasped his sister’s shoulders and shifted her out of the way.

“Brother, why—” Lucia asked, completely clueless that she was being a hindrance instead of a help.

“I think the best way to help would be for you two to go to my quarters,” Andreas interrupted. “Look over the maps and find the fastest route to Norway from here.” The man’s voice was kind, though Santiago could tell he was trying to get Lucia off the deck.

Santiago nodded. “Good idea. Lucia, let’s go.”

“But…”

Santiago didn’t wait to hear what Lucia had to say and simply began steering his ditzy sister to the captain’s quarters.

“Ah, there they are, the scoundrels!” Silva shouted.

Santiago turned to see four drunken sailors staggering down the dock. They were so intoxicated that they could barely keep themselves from falling flat on their faces, yet somehow they were still carrying a tune.

“Hurry up, or you’ll be left behind!” Costa called.

“You’ll never guess what we just heard!” one of them sang out, as though he was continuing the next line of their song.

“What? What did we hear?” another drunken sailor asked.

“Get on the ship already! Can’t you see we’re about to leave?” Silva ran down the gangplank and grabbed one of the men by the arm. “Get up here, then.”

The man Silva was holding on to, an unpleasant fellow by the name of Claudio, looked him hard in the eye. “They’re coming, you know!”

Silva rolled his eyes. “Who’s coming, you old fool?”

“Them!” Claudio turned and pointed back toward the streets. Within seconds, men with torches appeared from around the buildings.

Santiago’s stomach dropped. The quadrilheiros were here!

Everything seemed to go in slow motion for a few seconds. Santiago raced down the gangplank, took hold of another drunk crew member, and dragged the man onto theSão Nicolau. Silva brought Claudio up and dumped him on the deck before returning to get the next man. The last fellow made his way up on his own before plopping onto the floor and vomiting right next to Lucia’s feet.

“Stop! The more you run, the worse the consequences will be!” The lead quadrilheiro and his men charged forward—they were almost to the ship!

“Help me get the gangplank!” Silva shouted. He and Santiago pulled the board up just as the officers reached the end of the dock.

“After them, men!” The quadrilheiros began jumping into the water and swimming toward the ship!

Andreas appeared next to Santiago, holding a flintlock pistol. He cocked it, aimed at one of the officers, and—

“What are you doing?!” Santiago shoved the gun upward, making the bullet soar high in the air.

Andreas’s eyes narrowed, and he moved to reload. “What’s necessary! Unless you’d rather I wait for them to board andthen kill them?”

Santiago shook his head frantically, sliding his hand back onto the pistol. “This isn’t right! If you kill them, there’s no way we can return!”

“Don’t. Touch. That.”Andreas’s voice was so cold, so alien, that Santiago backed up in shock.