Jaya didn't bother turning around when the door to her dungeon opened. It would be her evening meal delivery. She continued doing what she'd been doing for the past several hours, tearing pages out of Walter Scott's Ivanhoe in an attempt to teach herself the art of origami. She'd deemed the book unreadable with a stupid title and thus the best choice for paper cranes, butterflies and whatever else she might be capable of. At the moment her bed was littered in failed attempts. Maybe ...