A short, plainly unattractive man whose shoulders bunch around his neck as if he expects rain to come sideways. He has unkempt hair over only half his scalp, the rest showing pale, shiny skin. Small open sores and pitted marks from syphilis roughen his face; he keeps rubbing at them with the heel of his hand. His eyes do not meet a stranger's for long. They travel instead to exits, doorways, hands, and the nearest unattended drink. He moves in quick, crablike starts, then holds perfectly still. Unexpectedly, he keeps a tiny, carefully folded paper theatre tucked in his cap and sometimes studies its painted figures with grave tenderness.

Feshik is wary but performs confidence, especially when he senses someone wants to believe him. He can be almost gentle with children and keepsakes, yet treats frightened adults as opportunities. When safe, he chatters and jokes; when challenged, his humor turns sharp and his breath catches in damp sniffs.

Feshik learned his trade selling false maps and dockside rumors before he ever tried to sell passage. Years ago, during a fever season, he paid for a place aboard a boat leaving the island and watched the captain cast off without his younger sister, who had been promised the same berth. He has never learned whether she died or escaped by another route. That betrayal changed him: he began to believe every promise was a trap, and that the only safe bargain was one he could leave first. Now he tells strangers he is a smuggler who can slip them past the pirate preparing to make a stand for Nassau and the new governor arriving with naval support. He asks 200 silver per passenger and claims the Slippery Catch sails for Tortuga the following evening. The ship is real, and moored at the small fishing docks just past the Every Fancy, but it belongs to a local fisherman, not Feshik. Feshik plans to collect as much silver as he can and vanish before anyone discovers the fraud. He is already in debt to a dockside lender and has seen the fisherman's young son watching him from the pier.