The training yard at that hour belonged to frost, not fire, which was how I knew Selena had been out there since before dawn. The demons who trained under torchlight kept the eastern half of the yard scorched and thawed year-round. The western half, where Selena worked, was a sheet of rimed stone that never quite lost its chill even at midsummer, and this morning it had spread further than I'd ever seen it, a good ten paces past where her usual practice line ended.
I stood at the rail above the yard and watched her put a training golem through its third destruction of the morning.
