He crouched in the pose of a hunter: body taut, senses extended. His eyes glittered in the night, like gray ice set in a face the color of old bone. The wind scrabbled curiously at his threadbare black clothing, seeking to touch the thin flesh stretched tight over his ribs. Unkempt hair, the crimson of freshly-spilled blood, gusted across his face.

    The wind smelled wrong, tasted wrong, he thought. More like the bitter wine of winter than the sweeter cider of autumn. He shivered with the dread of the lean, cold months that had been bred into the blood and bones of his kind.

    He smiled sardonically at that thought. My kind? And what kind would that be?

    The skeletal grasses rattled dryly around him, as if in commiseration. An enormous, dark shape moved nervously at the lip of the small dell in which he hid. Reaching out blindly, he laid a reassuring hand against the warhorse’s warm hide. Iron muscles flexed under his callused fingers, and a velvety lip brushed his skin. The animal’s familiar scent filled his nostrils, comforting.

     It’s an ill night to be out on the Kellsmarch, he thought. Wide, canted eyes scanned the vast plains, which stretched off to every side. The ivory moon shone down, illuminating every blade of grass with silver fire. There’s no cover out here, nowhere to hide.

     Damn your stony heart, Ax, where are you?

    A pale shape gleamed suddenly on the other side of the dell. He leapt back, snarling, before realizing it was the wizard who stood there. A moment later, Ax’s scent—not exactly that of a normal human, but not really definable as anything else, either—wafted to him on the breeze.

    Ax bowed slightly, and a mocking smile touched his withered lips. "Forgive me, Yozerf Jonaglir. I did not mean to startle you."

     And I’m a human. Yozerf looked away, as if the wizard hardly concerned him. "Trihychyl. It’s Trihychyl."

    Ax shrugged negligently. "It hardly matters to me what clan name your family chooses to skulk under these days."

    Yozerf ground his teeth together in silent fury. But he was accustomed to bearing the offhand taunts of humans, and in this, at least, the wizard seemed no different from his brethren.

    Pretending to ignore the jibe, Yozerf tilted his head to one side and glared balefully at Ax. "What do you want of me?"

    "I think you know. It’s time for you to pay your debt to me."

    Yozerf transferred his malevolent stare to his hands, which rested lightly on his knees. My debt.

    If I can survive whatever task he has for me, I’ll be truly free for the first time in my life. No more wondering when he’ll come, what he’ll ask of me. Free.

     But freedom through slavery? Is that even possible?

    Wariness caused the hair to prickle on the nape of his neck. Ax smelled smug, but a sour whiff of fear tainted the wind as well. Anything dire enough to worry the wizard, let alone make him afraid, was likely to be perilous in the extreme.

    Although he knew it to be a futile gesture, he met Ax’s stare with one of his own. Yozerf’s gray gaze was inhumanly cold, challenging the wizard’s deceptively mild expression. "And if I refuse to do your bidding?"

    Ax inclined his head, and his smile sent a spike of ice through Yozerf’s heart. "You could try. Thirty-four years ago, I used my healing arts to keep death from claiming you before you even drew your first breath. I gave you your life. Therefore, it is mine to do with as I will."

    Hatred clogged Yozerf’s throat, and he spat on the ground. "So you will throw me away as a pawn in some unfathomable game."

    "My 'game' is unfathomable only to you," Ax said, and now his voice was steel and stone, all pretense of goodwill flung aside. "I work solely for the good of Jenel. Not for my own aggrandizement, not for power, not for revenge. For my kingdom."

    "Jenel is nothing to me," Yozerf hissed. "Hel can come take this kingdom and everyone in it—it is no concern of mine."

    A wall of force punched into him, heaving him off his feet and slamming him hard against the earth. All the air left his lungs, and for an instant he lay stunned. The warhorse behind him screamed, and its hooves cut across the stars above his head. Gasping for breath, he forced himself to roll away from the frightened animal.

    No sharp pains accompanied the movement—at least Ax hadn’t seen fit to shatter his bones. Undoubtedly because I couldn’t perform his little task then. Chest heaving, Yozerf came up into a crouch. His head still spun with the force of the blow, and he had to stretch a hand out to the ground to steady himself. The taste of blood filled his mouth.

    Ax glared angrily from the other side of the dell, not even looking wearied from his display. "Jenel is my kingdom, and I work to defend her," the wizard said in a low, dangerous voice. "And so will you. You will not question me, only do what I say."

    Yozerf rose slowly to his feet, careful to keep any sign of pain from his face. "I will do as you ask," he said quietly. "I would have done so anyway. Whatever else you might say of me, I never reneged on a debt—not even one to a human. There was no need for force."

    Ax chuckled softly, the sound melding with the sere rattle of the dead grasses. "Perhaps. But this way, you’ll never forget who owns you."