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Authors: Colleen Gleason

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I rose on my toes and met the eyes of the Ankh over the crowd for the first time. She looked at me, but I didn't feel the same shiver of connection I had felt in the past. Her gaze was blank, as if she were attempting to hide any sense of recognition.

“I knew you weren't dead,” I announced, drawing everyone's attention. “I knew you were still alive, and I know your true identity!” My voice carried and I cast my glance over those present in the chamber, all of whom stared at me. “And now, I shall—”

My words choked off. I couldn't believe my eyes.

There was Lady Cosgrove-Pitt
. In the same place she had been standing only moments before—and, apparently, all along. Our eyes met across the chamber and I felt a rush of shock, then confusion . . . and then fury.

For as she met my eyes, steady and knowing, she laughed at me with her gaze. And her mouth twitched up at the corners as she lifted her chin in acknowledgment.

She
knew
.

And then she mouthed a word at me—an unmistakable word that told me everything I needed to know.

Checkmate
.

Miss Stoker
The Final Checkmate

T
hough Mina had stopped talking abruptly, the chamber remained quiet.

But despite everyone looking at her, she merely shook her head and pressed her lips together. Her face was white and drawn. I heard her swallow hard, and had no idea what had just happened . . . but I didn't care. Mina being speechless was a novelty, but I didn't have time to enjoy it.

Apparently the Ankh didn't either, for she handed Lurelia a mask similar to hers and raised the small black device in her hand. “Farewell, all! Until we meet again!”

She yanked off a pin-like item from the black object, then lobbed the black ball into the center of the chamber. It landed on the brick floor in front of us. A spark crackled from it, and smoke began to stream from the device as the door slammed closed behind our captor.

Someone shrieked and someone else gasped, but I had no hesitation. I dove for the floor, bringing one of the metal suits of armor with me in hopes of smothering whatever was coming from the device.

I was a little too late, however, for Dylan—who was closest to the object—had lunged just a moment before me. He kicked the device sharply and it flew straight into the large fireplace as the suit of armor I'd grabbed clanked onto him with a dull rattle.

Inspector Grayling was already moving too, and so was Mina. They wrestled bedclothes from the mattress and yanked tapestries from the walls, stuffing them into the fireplace.

We found as many heavy pieces of fabric as quickly as we could and flung them over the smoking device, trying to choke out whatever it was spewing. Meanwhile, Sir Mycroft and the Lord Regent struggled to open the door, which had been bolted from the other side. The gas filtered into the chamber—sweet and heavy—but the cloths seemed to be doing their job. The windows were hardly more than arrow slits, but the smoke didn't get much stronger. I felt no ill effects.

Of course, at any moment, I could tumble to the floor, dead, but . . .

Mina grabbed my arm. Her face was tense and white. Her eyes were furious. “It's not poison. It's a harmless gas.”

I didn't ask how she knew, but when no one collapsed, and the men—with the help of Dylan and Grayling, and
without my flimsy feminine strength—finally broke through the door, I knew whatever danger there was was over.

“We have to get to the museum . . . 
now
,” Mina said as everyone streamed out, suddenly babbling and chattering with relief. Her eyes were wild and determined. “It's the only chance we have to catch them . . . They'll want to try . . . and get the treasure.” She looked at Grayling, still panting from her exertions. “I am exercising . . . my prerogative.”

“To change your mind?” He almost smiled, but his eyes flickered warily to Dylan, then back to Mina. “Right, then. Let's go.”

That left Dylan and me, along with Princess Alix, Miss Adler, the Lord Regent, and Sir Mycroft—as well as the rest of those in the chamber—to find our own speedy way to the museum.

Apparently, Mina
was
in fact going to ride on the steamcycle again.

Fortunately, Princess Alix's royal carriage provided us a very quick journey to the museum. Traffic was forced to make way for the carriage marked with her seal, and in a record amount of time, Dylan, Miss Adler, and I were rushing up the steps to the museum.

The sight of a parked steamcycle told me Mina and Grayling had already arrived. But the rest of us were right on
their heels, with the princess, Lord Regent, and Sir Mycroft traveling by another carriage.

We hurried to the Arched Room and found Mina and Grayling there, along with three of the museum guards, who'd been assigned to watch over the chess table since the letter was stolen.

But despite Mina's theory, there was no sign of the Ankh or Princess Lurelia. According to the guards, no one had attempted entry to the Arched Room all morning.

She seemed to read my mind. “The Ankh is very canny. She must have realized it was a fool's errand to come here immediately. I suspect they will attempt to gain access to the chess table sometime when we least expect it. But when they do, they shall be stymied. For . . .” With a flourish, Mina pulled a slender white object from her skirts.

“The chess queen!” said Miss Adler. “Excellent, Miss Holmes! I can only surmise you did a brilliant sleight-of-hand whilst everyone was watching the Ankh.”

“Indeed. What I gave the Ankh was a crude stone copy I had made of what I imagined the chess queen would look like. I bundled it up in the original wrappings while everyone was distracted during her speech. My experience with the mediums and séances during the spiritglass debacle made me realize what a helpful skill learning sleight-of-hand would be. Miss Louisa Fenley, the medium, was more than happy to assist me with some of the basics when I pointed out that
the Met might be
quite
interested in how she made her living.” She glanced at Grayling. “And now . . . shall we play chess?”

They settled across from each other at the table. “Of course, I shall play white,” Mina said.

Grayling gave her a reproachful look. “As if there were any other option.”

She sniffed, but she didn't seem annoyed. In fact, Mina was in her element as she arranged the white pieces on her side, and Grayling did the same with the black ones on his.

Once they were in place, she removed her hands from the table and leaned back to admire the staging. “This is the first time in more than four centuries that the entire collection is together.”

“Excellent work,” said Miss Adler warmly. “It is a beautiful scene.”

I couldn't help but agree. Perhaps it was the handmaker in me, but I did admire the simplicity and beauty of the chess set and its platform in a world of so many devices and mechanisms. I'd seen it before, during the Welcome Event, but only from a distance, and of course I had been underwhelmed by the thought of an antiquated chess set.

But now I could appreciate it: the huge pedestal that made up the base of the table and its elegant “feet” that jutted out in three directions from the bottom. The top was round, with the chessboard square set into the marble. And each
square was indented in the marble, and inset with rose-pink and black marble squares. The outline of each square was made from some metal—bronze, I thought, which gave the table itself an almost modern feel.

Each chess piece itself was mounted on a small metal base that fit perfectly inside the indented squares of the board. The metal bases also reminded me of a modern cogworked design, for the black pieces sat upon bronze bases, and the white pieces were staged on copper bases. The metal designs were lacy, ornate metalworks that clicked as each piece was placed in its starting location.

The game pieces themselves were carved of marble with long, sweeping curves and little ornamentation. And the one and only chess queen on the board—for the black side sported a vizier piece in place of the female royal figure—was the tallest piece, and had a beautiful vein of rose threading through the marble.

“I shall read to you the movements,” Mina said to Grayling as they faced each other to play. “There are only six of them per side, and the combination will unlock the chess table.”

“So this isn't to be a true battle of strategy?” he asked.

“Not at this time. But . . . perhaps in the future.” Her cheeks were slightly pink. “Very well, then. King's pawn to E-three is my move . . . and now you, Inspector: King's pawn three to D-six . . . Then White King's knight to F-three . . . And now, Black Queen's—er,
Vizier's
knight to D-seven. Do make certain not to touch any other squares, and to fit the base in perfectly or I fear the combination won't work.”

“Of course, Miss Holmes,” said Grayling. Patience oozed from his tones.

I watched, not completely following the directions. But apparently Grayling understood and he moved as indicated. Each time a piece was settled into place, there was a soft click, as if a magnet snapped to the bottom of the pieces.

“The combination presumably works because of the weight of the pieces, and the order in which they are placed—do you notice how each one feels different?” said Mina.

“Indeed. Although one would expect since the chess
queen
is the one which is the most important element, it is the heaviest—or lightest, perhaps—of them all.”

“Precisely. Which is why simply replicating the piece wouldn't work for the combination. There must be a certain weight built in to the bottom . . . I can hear something moving inside the base when I tilt it.”

“Indeed. That slight tilting, in combination with the magnetization, is the key. So to speak.”

When it came time for the last move, the entire room seemed to hold its breath. “And now . . . White King's bishop to G-six, and
checkmate
 . . .” Mina moved her piece, setting it into its square.

There was silence for a moment, and then a soft
click
, followed by a
whirr
from beneath. The top of the chess table began to slide off with a low, mechanized grinding.

As it rolled to the side, we crowded around and looked down into the large round base. It was an open cavity, and there was something inside.

“Miss Holmes.” Grayling gestured courteously for her to do the honors. “Unless you'd prefer not to slide your hand into parts unknown.”

“Definitely not.” Mina stood and bent to thrust her hand into the base. She pulled out a thick white envelope that was certainly
not
hundreds of years old. “What . . . ?”

Staring at the packet, her cheeks turning white and then flaming red, she made a soft, furious noise. I saw over her shoulder that the envelope was addressed to
Miss Holmes
.

What?

Mina tore open the packet and yanked out a single sheet of paper, spinning away from the rest of us to read it. We waited in tense, confused silence until she turned back.

“It was a ruse.” Her movements were stiff with anger. Her cheeks were circles of bright red. Her eyes flashed with green-brown fury. “All of it. Every last
bit
of it.”

“What are you talking about?” I took the paper and envelope she handed me. I recognized the writing as the same—or similar—to the penmanship on the paper from Pix.

The letter said:

Miss Holmes
,

You are indeed a formidable opponent. But if you are reading this, then it means I have in fact outwitted and outsmarted you . . . and in fact have checkmated you in this little game of ours
.

You did precisely what I hoped and planned, including locating the chess queen . . . and clearly substituting or somehow exchanging the original at the last moment. Brava!

You are a worthy opponent . . . but not quite skilled enough
.

What you cannot have realized until this very moment is that the chess queen was in my possession first, and I have already relieved the chess table of its contents. Then I returned the queen to her original hiding place so you would have the pleasure of solving the puzzle on your own. Again, congratulations! Only two of us have been clever enough to do so, and how fitting that we are both of the “lesser” gender
.

Incidentally, you may at some day in the future learn what was secreted inside this table . . . but then again you may not
.

That shall depend upon whether you are able to keep up with me
.

Until we meet again
.

And the letter was signed with the familiar symbol of the Ankh.

Miss Holmes
In Which Our Heroine Is Thoroughly Rooked

“T
he entire thing was staged,” I raged. “Everything!”

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