Warily, she pushed the door open. Nothing happened. She slipped through.
She was nearly there. Before her, surely, was the last trap. Across a small, circular room stood tall, ornately-decorated doors marked with the royal insignia: crossed swords over a white dragon's head. The dragon's eyes glittered like huge rubies. Quite possibly they were huge rubies. They were surely the doors to the quarters of an Emperor.
Between Swan and that door stood a stone plinth. And upon the table was a half-completed game of chess. She crept towards the table, wary. Perhaps the trap was elsewhere and the game was merely a distraction. A feint. But no arrows or spiked balls fired at her. No pits opened up.
She peered at the pieces on the board. It was clear the game was the trap. Each of the sixty-four
