"She hopes she does, as well," came a woman's voice behind Dylan.
He looked over his shoulder, surprised, then dropped to one knee. "My queen!"
Queen Jennah of Kryta stepped forward.
Logan's mouth fell open, and he staggered back.
The queen was stunning, her dark features set off by robes as white as lightning. Her eyes were sharp, and they pierced him, baring his inner thoughts.
Logan stood pinioned on those eyes. He wanted to turn away but couldn't. It was as if every other woman he had ever seen was just a statue, but Jennah was flesh and blood.
The queen smiled. "Rise, Captain Dylan, and tell me who this man is to approach my presence armed."
"Regrettably, my queen," Dylan said, "this gulping codfish is my brother, Logan."
Logan tried to speak, but there was no air in his lungs.
"Bow before your queen!" Dylan snapped.
Logan fell to his knees and bowed his head.
"Logan is your name?"
Logan nodded.
Jennah leaned forward on the rail, looking down at him. "Can he speak?"
Before Dylan could respond, Logan gasped out, "Normally, yes, my queen, I can speak. It's only in your presence that I… that I can't seem to find… you know, words."
Dylan looked from his brother to the queen. "Your Majesty, is he under a charm of some sort?"
Jennah shook her head.
"A charm?" Logan asked.
"Our queen is a mesmer of extraordinary power," Dylan said to Logan. "It's how she spoke to the whole stadium just now. I thought perhaps she had cast some strange glamour upon you to make you gabble so stupidly. Apparently, though, you come by it naturally."
"Stand, Logan Thackeray," Queen Jennah said.
"Yes, Your Majesty." Logan rose and brushed the dust from his knees. "Thank you, Your Majesty."
"Do not fear, Logan. If you're half the warrior that your brother is, you will do well today."
"I'd say he's almost half," Dylan put in.
"My queen," Logan replied earnestly, "I am not sure how good a warrior I am, but if I could fight this match for you, I would be ten times the warrior. Grant me a token-"
Dylan sternly shook his head at his brother.
But Queen Jennah leaned forward, drew a blue scarf from her robe, and handed it down to Logan. "Yes, Logan. Be my champion today. When you fight, fight for me."
Numbly, Logan stepped up and took the scarf as if it were a tender flower. The royal seal of Kryta was embroidered on one corner. "Thank you, milady. I will fight for you."
Dylan sighed, "Pity."
"Pity my foes!" Logan proclaimed.
"Give me reason," the queen said, smiling. She turned away and ascended the stairs.
Dylan looked down at his little brother and shook his head. "Hopeless." Then he followed his queen.
"She's going to watch," Logan realized, pivoting slowly and heading away. He stared at the scarf in his hand, marked with the emblem of the royal house, then lifted it to tie to his left shoulder plate.
As Logan approached his comrades, Rytlock wore a wry grin. "A little lovesick, are we?"
"She's my queen."
Caithe interrupted, "Let's forget about the queen and focus on whatever's behind that gate." She pointed across the arena, where men dragged a set of bars away from an entrance.
In the darkness, flames flared. They showed a massive form with red-glowing joints.
"Did you see what I saw?" Logan asked.
"Yep," Rytlock replied.
"Some kind of giant destroyer," Caithe said.
The announcer broke in on their conversation. "And now for the exhibition match this afternoon-the one you've been waiting for. In honor of our special guest, Queen Jennah of Kryta, and in honor of our new alliance with Kryta to battle the dragon menaces, we match up today the crowd favorites, Edge of Steel"-cheers flooded the arena, and the white-faced warriors dutifully waved-"against a minion of the dread dragon Primordus. Feast your eyes upon the destroyer harpy Racogorrix!"
The crowd roared.
Out lumbered the creature of living lava. It was shaped like a woman, but with the wings and talons of an eagle. It bounded forward across the sands, dragging a team of ten men, who held its enchanted shackles. Despite a metal muzzle fastened across the harpy's mouth, it screamed, and flame roared out.
"More magma magic." Rytlock hoisted Sohothin. "Probably impervious to this thing."
Caithe looked down at the skintight strapping she wore. "I'm wearing a wick."
"I'll take this one," Logan said, thumping his new steel breastplate.
"You kidding? That thing'll melt on the second barrage," Rytlock said.
"Then there can't be a second barrage," Logan replied. "Caithe, advance about a hundred paces ahead of us and draw it in. When it starts to dive, run back to us. Pass us before it reaches you. We'll take care of the rest."
Caithe looked warily at her comrades. "I'm trusting you with my life, as usual." She turned and stalked away, counting the paces.
Beyond her, handlers slid iron keys into the shackles that bound the harpy. The moment the restraints fell away, Racogorrix vaulted into the air. Its huge wings spread and beat. The shock wave sent a pulse through the arena. A second stroke, and a third, and the harpy circled slowly higher. Its shadow swarmed, horrible and huge, across the sands.
Caithe strode into the circling shadow. "Ninety-eight… ninety-nine… one hundred!" She stopped and glanced back.
Rytlock pointed into the sky behind her. "Start running!"
Caithe looked up to see that Racogorrix had reached the top of its spiral and had now turned to swoop down on her. She began to run.
Rytlock muttered, "So, what's the brilliant plan?"
"Put your sword away."
Sohothin slid it into its stone sheath. "And…?"
"Cup your claws and lean forward."
The charr grinned, fangs splaying. "You want me to throw you?"
"Precisely."
As Rytlock bent down, cupping his claws, Caithe ran full speed toward him across the sand. The black shadow of the harpy fell over her, growing larger with each step. The harpy screamed, and a gout of red flame billowed down toward Caithe.
The crowd leaped to its feet.
The harpy was nearly on her.
She ran full out past her comrades.
Rytlock hurled his shoulders back, flung his arms up, and launched Logan into the path of the beast.
The crowd screamed.
Fire burst over Logan, enveloping him.
Agony.
He couldn't see a thing but swung his hammer where the head should be. The cloud of flame rolled past, and the hammer crashed down across the harpy's stony shoulder.
"Damn."
The beast slammed into Logan. He folded across its shoulder, hammer wedged beneath its wing. Screaming fire, the creature carried him away.
Logan caught a foothold on one of the harpy's talons and flung himself up onto the monster's back.
Racogorrix banked above the roaring crowd, jigging right and left to shake Logan loose. It snarled fire back along its neck, but he ducked, only singed.
The harpy circled, spotting Rytlock and Caithe below, and dived toward them.
"Oh, no, you don't," Logan muttered. He lifted his hammer overhead and, with one massive stroke, bashed the harpy's brow.
Stones broke, and magma gushed out, but still the harpy flew.
A blue aura gushed from Logan's fingertips and wrapped around his hammer. He hoisted the weapon overhead and roared.
The enspelled weapon crashed into the head of the harpy and broke it free from the body. The magma joints grew gray and seized up.
Suddenly, the harpy was not flying but falling.
Dead weight.
Rytlock ran away in one direction and Caithe in the other.
The ground rose up to meet the harpy. It crashed down and flipped over, breaking into hundreds of pieces. Logan was flung a few dozen paces through the air. He tumbled end over end in a welter of sand.
Then there was a blow to the head and blood in his nose and nothing else.
When he awoke, the first thing Logan saw was Rytlock's face, his whiskers curled at the ends. "He's back!" Rytlock said.