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The next day, they fought a band of charr. Rytlock was reluctant at first, until one of the charr walloped him in the head with a mallet. A quick healing touch from Logan revived him, and Rytlock was all business from then on. Logan acquitted himself well against them also, and Caithe discovered that charr could be monstrously strong but have numerous “weak points.”

As Edge of Steel stood together atop the fallen charr, Caithe said to Rytlock, “No one has ever reported that charr are ticklish.”

Rytlock nodded. “Ticklers do not live to report it.”

The next day, they fought a band of six humans. It was Logan’s turn to feel chagrined, triumphant over his own people. But it was as Caithe had said—they all had the same strengths and weaknesses. Only groups of mixed races and abilities had any hope of succeeding in the arena.

For two weeks, Edge of Steel went undefeated. Their wealth grew, and their fame with it. They moved further and further into the lineup, clearing away opponents before them. Humans, sylvari, asura, charr, and even mixed groups of all these. None could stand before Edge of Steel.

After two weeks came a second exhibition match, which Sangjo described as “an epic battle against a secret foe for the delight of a special personage.”

“What do you think we’re going to fight?” Logan asked Rytlock as they trotted out onto the sands, to the cheers of the crowd.

Rytlock humphed. “Who knows? Maybe a pack of skritt. Maybe a herd of centaurs. Could even be an oakheart for all I know.”

“At least an oakheart is flammable,” put in Caithe.

The announcer called from his tower, “And before we announce the foe this afternoon, all rise in honor of our special guest—all the way from our ally Kryta, the most noble, most high, Queen Jennah!”

The stands erupted with cheers, and trumpeters along the upper courses played a fanfare that echoed beneath the wooden dome.

“Queen Jennah!” Logan whispered, looking up into the stands.

At the top, a pair of double doors opened, and white-garbed Seraph marched through. They descended the stairs with precision, unrolling a red carpet and tucking it securely onto each step.

Then the queen herself appeared, and mesmer magic projected her image out to hang above the center of the arena.

Logan turned toward that image.

Queen Jennah was young, powerful, regal—garbed in a white gown and wearing the mantle of Divinity’s Reach across her shoulders. She had dark hair, tan skin, and riveting brown eyes.

“She’s beautiful,” Logan murmured.

The huge image that hovered above the sands spoke to everyone gathered there: “Thank you, good people of Lion’s Arch. Thank you for this welcome to your beautiful city! Once you were a part of our homeland, and always you will be part of our hearts.”

Cheers answered her speech.

“Today, before Commodore Marriner and the Ship’s Council, I have confirmed Kryta’s commitment to work with Lion’s Arch for the good of Tyria’s free races. Together, our people and yours declare an alliance. We will help you fight the Orrian undead, who threaten your shipping lanes, and you will help us fight the centaurs that raid our villages.”

Applause filled the arena, and the image of Jennah smiled beautifully.

“She’s wonderful,” Logan sighed.

“I asked your excellent Ship’s Council what great entertainment I must not miss in my brief stay, and they all turned as one to Captain Magnus the Bloody Handed, proprietor of this great establishment”—gleeful cheers interrupted her—“and he brought me here! And so, to all who do battle here today, I wish success and health and wealth!”

“All who do battle?” Logan stepped back breathlessly. “That’s me!”

As Queen Jennah’s mesmeric presence faded from the center of the arena, the stadium applauded her one last time. Waving to the crowd, she slowly descended the stairs, flanked by her bodyguards. Seraph bowed to her, one by one, as she passed.

Logan drifted toward her across the sands.

“Where are you going?” Rytlock barked.

“My queen,” Logan muttered, his steps growing more sure.

Queen Jennah entered a private platform, with