There was a doctor on the ship, or as close as the pirates were ever going to get, and I knew it because he used to be a boy. One of Peter's. And he was the one who had taught me how to help others, how to patch their wounds and stop bleeding and which roots would make them feel better if they were running a fever. He had been too smart, Walter had, and Peter hadn't liked it, so he'd been sent away.

He was a pirate now.

"Walter," I told Octavia, trying to breathe steadily. "He's a pirate. He should be on the ship. He'll know how to help."