Ivan had severed necks before, but this kill made his hand tremble on the axe. The dog's head thudded to the obsidian office's floor, eyes facing him and still filled with unquestioning love.

Vladimir, the Dragonlord's man, smiled. "Good. You're willing to follow orders. Go on up to meet your new master. Bring the head; we'll clean up the rest." He signed a scroll and offered it to Ivan.

Ivan's wrinkled hand twitched with an urge to bury the axe in Vladimir's skull for demanding this one little proof of loyalty. He clenched his teeth and set the blade down, taking the paper instead.

"I understand perfectly," said Vladimir. "Many of our recruits have mixed feelings. But your pet is in a better place, now, and no longer suffering. What's done is done, and miracles await you in our master's cave. Don't waste this chance that you've bought."

Ivan wanted to make the man care, to wipe the smile off his face. He looked one last time at his dog's grin. He murmured a prayer, picked up Laika's blood-slick head, and turned away to climb the long mountain trail.

#

The cave's guards weren't human. Ivan froze, looked at the wolfish muzzles peeking out under their hoods, and felt the weight of the head in his hand. The guards only sniffed, making puffs of breath in the mountain air. Ivan held out the scroll. The wolf-men glanced at it, then stepped aside.

Ivan hobbled into the cavern and was instantly warm. The walls looked like they had been gouged by claws and melted smooth. A forge's glow lit the end of the tunnel. No, not a forge. Like a work in progress by some mad smith, the famous dragon seethed with red light between iron-dark scales. The Dragonlord stood on all fours without need for a throne. The white-hot eyes on his massive head burned into Ivan's vision as he said, "Another petitioner. Speak."

"Your man said to give you this." Ivan stepped as close as he dared, holding up the scroll. "And this." He shuddered and set Laika's head onto the ground, making no move to wipe off his hand.

The Dragonlord spread his wings to touch the cave's walls. Firelight lived in them and exiled the shadows. "Friend of yours?"

Ivan nodded. It took more of his will to avoid looking at Laika's head than to keep from running away from the massive, glowing dragon. The killing had been a merciful act for a dog already sickly and dying of old age, with Ivan not far behind. It was better for Ivan to live than for both of them to die. Or so the officer had argued.

The dragon's nostrils emitted steam. "Vladimir is creative with his tests."

Ivan finally noticed that there was a woman, hidden like a dim moon beside the sun. She was much more human, standing on two legs and no larger than Ivan himself. Her scales were white and soft blue. She approached Ivan and took the scroll from him with clawed hands, then paused to look at him. She was with child. Ivan felt a moment of vertigo, as though the world had expanded. He'd come home to the sleepy mining village he'd left decades earlier, to find not just a sorcerous dragon and a mighty city, but still more dragons on the way! Maybe she was slowly changing from a woman into a dragon. It was said that the Dragonlord -- Petrov was his name -- had once been a man. Again he resolved to live longer, to see what new wonders there could be.

The dragoness held the scroll up to Petrov's left eye. The Dragonlord rumbled. "As I thought. My lieutenant says you're a former mercenary with a good head on his shoulders. You wish to be young and healthy again? Then join my Black Riders."

Ivan straightened, feeling the weight of years seem to lift from him already. He guessed: "The wolves outside?"

Petrov tapped dagger-length claws on the floor. "Exactly. You wouldn't cross one of them, would you? You'll have the brains of a man, and be healthier than you ever were while killing some tribe of goat-screwing bandits or bowing to your local Tsarevich bastard. You like hounds, yes? All I ask is that you become mine."

Ivan stood in the hot cavern, staring at the dragon. He'd come this far; he'd made a sacrifice. If the Dragonlord wanted to change him, it was worth accepting. He lowered himself to his creaking knees and said, "Yes, my lord."

Petrov smiled and shrank. Ivan startled. The Dragonlord had become human, a young man in flame-colored robes. He paced around Ivan, casting shifting shadows. "What shall I try? I've been experimenting with my powers. I could make you a nice stealthy black wolf, or white with powers of healing and inquisition, or red for battle. Maybe a she-wolf? They can fight. Or even a pup that I can put through a few extra years of training."

So many possibilities, instead of death from a long, rough life! He'd been a careful fighter, prowling the edge of battle. "Black, please?"

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Petrov nodded as though it were a request for breakfast. Then he spoke a word that seemed to set Ivan on fire. Ivan yelled and collapsed to the stone floor, writhing.

He lay on his back, panting. His tongue hung out to one side of the muzzle that filled the middle of his vision. Ivan slurred when he tried to swear. He sprang to two feet before he'd even realized how quick and easy the motion was. Young again! His new claws traced over dark fur that made him shiver.

Petrov inspected him. "Congratulations. If you serve well, I will find other rewards for you. See Vladimir for housing and other arrangements. I feel like flying." He strode past Ivan and grew again, transforming, springing onto four clawed dragon feet. Molten iron dripped and sizzled on his growing wings. He gave a roar of joy and might. Then the great burning eyes turned to him again on a serpentine neck, and Ivan's new lord said, "You and I will build a better world together." Petrov flew away, leaving a final wave of hot air against Ivan's new fur and shredded clothes.

Ivan stared. Decades of life, granted so casually! A miracle! He murmured, "Thank you, Laika."

His ears flicked, another new sensation. The dragon-woman was still here. Ivan said, "And you are?"

"Alexi." Ivan wouldn't have heard her if not for the echo. It was dark here now, but her slitted eyes shined. "His sister."

Ivan bowed and nearly fell onto all fours. "Thank you for your brother's generosity."

Her tail hid behind her. "It isn't. He has bought you. Make the best of it."

"I will, my lady." He realized that he was seeing her, and the table of books and maps beside her, despite the dimness. Wolf's eyes. He had been not only made young, but improved! If he was to serve, he should do it well.

#

He spent a happy winter in Petrov's city, Bogatyr. Ivan had expected to be feared and shunned for being part wolf, but most people welcomed him in their taverns and shops. He was, after all, a favored agent of Petrov's newborn "Opritchnina," an unofficial empire within the Tsar's empire. At night Ivan watched the black dragon tear into the mountains with fire and claw, carving more space for forges and armies, mines and homes. The Dragonlord had brought the hope of a better future into the world. The people drank their vodka in his honor.

The training was brutal joy. One morning, Ivan was laughing as he got up from a beating by Ivan's human soldiers. They'd been too quick for him this time! He'd learned to shift into the shadows and become a nearly ordinary wolf, but he'd not quite mastered the trick.

Vladimir was watching. The agent wore a perfectly white uniform with epaulets like iron scales. "I have proper work for you, at last. You will visit the western border, and buy horses."

Ivan panted in the cold air, and tilted his head. "You'd have better luck trading with the Kazakhs in the south."

"You'll be going with Liet. She has her ways. I hope you don't mind working under her." The officer grinned.

Ivan saw too little of Liet, a white wolf who focused on her own specialized training. He had a different view of the situation than a younger man might have. "I've known bright women who've run shops and managed farms." He flexed his clawed hands. "The wolf gift will give women opportunities, I think. How widespread does our lord plan to make it? Will he change everyone eventually?"

Vladimir said, "I believe that's the long-term plan. But His Majesty is still learning what he can do, since becoming a dragon. Still stretching his wings, farther and farther." He spoke louder to address the soldiers Ivan had been sparring with. "You are part of a new people, for a new nation. Hail our lord, and hail to you! Take a rest."

Ivan followed him to the same obsidian office where Vladimir had demanded one small sacrifice. He shuddered. The map of his mission brought up memories too, of being a peasant boy with knowledge of only a tiny circle of reality. He'd imagined that walking for a day beyond his fields would bring him to the land of spirits, of Baba Yaga and Grandfather Frost and the Tsar -- all equally mythical. What would it do to the average peasant to see talking wolves invade their bubble of the ordinary?

Vladimir broke him from his thoughts. "We want to establish the Opritchnina's control over a bit more territory. Go to these border villages. If you can't meet your horse quota -- I'm sure there will be enough -- you are to put the towns to the torch. Understand?"

As a Black Rider, Ivan was the hand of Vladimir, who was the left arm of the Dragonlord. The hand does not question its owner.