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begin again, and I did two moves for every one of theirs until I felt the same. Maybe they would begin to understand that there would be no end to it. Not if they wanted to stay alive.
    In the past months the demon battles had become more frequent, more complicated, and more ferocious. We had expected it. The Demon Lord’s attempt to take power in the human world by controlling Aleksander had signaled a departure from everything we knew of rai-kirah. In the past they had concentrated on individual domination. Now they seemed to have learned more of human ways and human evils, and wished to use their power over us for larger aims. I was trying to convince Ysanne that we needed to keep closer watch on the affairs of the world, lest they try again to insinuate themselves into human troubles. Though I had no evidence of new plots, I had seen the reflection of the change in my battles—increased cunning, viciousness, distractions, and surprises, as on the previous night when the demon seemed to be waiting at the portal. Expecting me. Knowing me.
    “Again,” I said when Tegyr sank to his knees in the dirt, shaking his head as we started another set of movements. “You claim that you can stand against the worst that demons can do. Don’t think they’ll give you their worst when you’re fresh.” And as they began again, I conjured for them an image of the monster I had fought the previous day, and I laid before them the horror I had lived during that battle. I forced them to see, and I tried to teach them how to convert anger into strength and endurance. It was a lesson I needed to review.
    “What perversion is this?” said Fiona, staring at the image of the monster fading into the angled sunlight. She snapped her gaze to my face. “This is yesterday?”
    “This is what’s out there,” I said.
    Drych, shaken by what he’d seen, asked permission to speak. “Mistress Talar says that too much thinking about the victim can taint a Warden,” he said. “Is that what caused you to fail yesterday?”
    “Mistress Talar has never fought a demon,” I said. “It is the victim who gives you strength and purpose; they give meaning to everything you do. You can’t let them distract you, but you must never forget them. Never. I made a mistake yesterday. That’s all. Now, begin again.”
    Ordinarily I spent at least one hour with the youngest boys. They were awkward and clumsy and in awe of me, but I took pleasure in giving them each some reason to stand up straighter in a time when they could do so little right. On that day, though, I could not bear the sight of wiry young limbs or excited dark eyes, oversized in eager faces, alight with melydda.
    I told Catrin that I would await her outside until she dismissed her gaggle to go stuff themselves with supper. When she came out, I was sitting on the damp ground leaning on a tree, watching the fish rings spread on a still pond. The trees crowded close about the pond, the brilliant new-green leaves motionless in the sunset glow, as if held in breathless anticipation of night. Fiona sat on the steps of the practice arena, far enough away that normal hearing would not catch what was said. I wasn’t fooled. She could hear a beetle’s clicking at three leagues.
    “And how did Drych progress?” Catrin stood in front of me, her arms folded across her breast.
    “Work him through a similar test tomorrow and see,” I said, crushing a sprig of clover between my fingers. “He learns quickly. You’ve pushed him hard.”
    “We don’t have a lot of time.”
    I looked up at her quickly. “What do you mean?”
    “I mean you’re tired. You can’t fight every day. In this past year you’ve spent more time beyond the portal than in the real world. You can’t carry this entire war on your shoulders.”
    “I can do what I need to do. Give them the time they need to be ready.”
    I wanted her to sit down beside me, to let me put my head on her shoulder and weep. But instead she remained