She studied it for long minutes, looking for a trap, a mechanism. She found none. It appeared to be normal. Could she trust her senses? Her head swam. She'd lost a lot of blood, and the poppy would be having its effect. But she couldn't stand there looking for ever.
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 crep
