The Slayer spoke with one of the Baron’s men, who gave him the food and then the ammunition he requested. Then he left the camp, and Vero trailed after him.

He moved slowly, carefully looking for something. Vero could not recognize what exactly he was looking for, but it must have been some sign of the monster. They were not going back the way she had come, so he must have known something that she did not.

She kept her distance until she found him stopped and obviously waiting for her.

“Why are you following me?”

“I want to go with you.”

“Why?” He sounded annoyed.

“The griffon, you’re tracking it.”

“What of it?”

“I want to hurt it. I want to kill it.”

“Chimera never stop hurting, so that should give you some satisfaction. And it’s far more likely to kill you than the other way around.” The Slayer crossed his arms.

“I don’t care. I deserve to die.”

“Go back to the village.”

“No, I won’t.”

“Fine.” He turned and set out again at a very brisk pace.

Vero did her best to keep up, but he ignored her completely and soon out distanced her.

Eventually, she lost him in the weeds completely.

He was not bothering to hide his tracks though. Vero may not have known how to find a griffon, but she could follow a man’s trampled path through the thick field easily enough.

However, the sun finally began to set, and the trail became harder and harder to follow as the light dimmed.

Vero also began to realize that she had not eaten all day. The heat was making her lightheaded, and even the sundown did not seem to dissipate it.

She refused to stop though. To stop was to think, and she would not do that. It mattered not where she went, only that she moved forwards.

Vero was almost completely lost when she saw a trail of smoke against the faint pink sky. She followed it.

The slayer had a cauldron boiling over a large fire. He sat well away from it and ate his rations with his wineskin on his lap. Whatever was boiling in the cauldron smelled terrible.

“Godsdamnit. I told you to go back to the village!”

“I said no!”

“Imbecile.” The Slayer paid no further attention to her.

Vero also sat away from the fire, but at a respectful distance from the Slayer. They were on the edge of the Whitewood, and she sat with her back against the trunk of a tree. The forest started with a few outlying trees, but became very thick almost immediately.

Sometimes she and Mama explored the forest together, looking for mushrooms.

Never again.

They sat and waited for a long time and Vero started to cry again. She pulled up her knees so the Slayer would not see her. Eventually she stopped, and still, nothing had happened.

“May I have some water, Ser?”

The Slayer grumbled something and tossed a waterskin onto the grass near her. Vero took it, and even though it was bitter with vinegar, she drank it all very quickly. So quickly, she choked in her haste.

“The griffon will be arriving soon.” The Slayer was not looking at her, and appeared to be speaking to no one in particular.

“You put something in the cauldron that will bring it here, didn’t you?”

The Slayer did turn to face her, but he looked displeased at being interrupted. “Yes. When it arrives- you should take cover in the woods and hide if you want to live.”

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“I don’t.”

“Then run out and get yourself killed; I get paid the same. Only stay out of my way, because I don’t intend to die here.”

Vero crouched with her dagger ready and waited. The Slayer drew blood and spread it over his eyes while chanting a spell. Then he spread more blood over a few of his bolts while performing a different chant.

She expected to hear a screech before the griffon attacked, but there was nothing except the sudden gust of wind. The griffon landed and immediately overturned the cauldron with a buck of its head, sending boiling water and sparks everywhere.

Vero still was not even sure what was happening, but the Slayer was already on his feet with his sword in hand. He wasted no time and rushed the creature with a long powerful slash along the neck.

The monster shrieked and slashed back at him with its taloned claws, forcing the Slayer away. He immediately danced forwards again, but not quite so close as he had the first time, and executed a quick cut across the griffon’s torso.

Neither strike was mortal, but the griffon was bleeding badly. It was also scorched with burns across one side of its body. It retreated backwards, and then turned to try and take flight.

The Slayer sprinted after the monster and delivered one last vicious swing, this time taking aim at the griffon’s nearest wing. The creature faltered from the blow, but still forced its way into the air.

It’s escaping and you’ve done nothing. A murderess and a coward as well!

Vero ran after them as fast as she could.

The Slayer dropped his sword and grabbed his crossbow, which he kept ready on a sling. He fired and the bolt struck the creature in its hindquarters, eliciting another shriek, but the griffon continued to rise.

The Slayer stopped and readied another bolt. It seemed to take him forever, and Vero caught up to him well before he was even finished.

He took aim, but Vero could hardly see the griffon anymore against the dark night sky. It did seem to be flying in circles over them, trying to gain altitude with a hobbled wing. Even so, Vero doubted he could possibly hit the monster.

The Slayer fired.

It was only a glancing blow, but it still struck the creature’s strong wing and sent it slowly spiraling back down to earth. The Slayer retrieved his sword and sprinted after it once again.

Vero ran after him.

He easily outpaced her, but also the griffon, so when it landed it came down between them. It was moving defensively, and its cries sounded wounded. The Slayer pressed his advantage by splitting the creature across the snout, but misjudged its remaining strength, and was tripped by a raking claw to the legs.

The Slayer fell to the ground with a cry, and the griffon pounced on top of him.

Vero rushed forwards and buried her dagger into the griffon’s flank with all her might.

The monster whipped around at the unexpected attack, an action which sent Vero off her feet. The creature lurched towards her, and Vero scrambled away as quickly as she could manage from her back. She had no idea where her weapon had gone, but her only concern was avoiding the griffon’s razor-sharp beak.

The griffon bit once and Vero rolled over to evade it. On all fours, she could gain speed.

The griffon bit again and barely missed, passing between her legs, but it caught her dress and pulled her up short. She felt a heavy paw push her down, and claws slicing into her shoulder.

Vero shut her eyes tightly and waited for the griffon to bite down and break her neck.

Instead, the griffon leapt off her as it turned again in response to another attack from the rear. The Slayer had returned to his feet, and the monster was now moving sluggishly in its own defense. It stumbled, then lost its footing completely and collapsed to the ground, where it lay quivering.

The Slayer stabbed his blade deep into the griffon’s neck, and at last, the creature was still.

“Ah!” The Slayer fell backwards. “Whoreson griffon! Godsdamn leg... girl! Help me back to the fire!”

Vero moved to do as she was ordered, but stopped beside the griffon.

She bent down beside one of the massive creature’s wounds, which was still weeping. She cupped her hands under it, and let them fill with the blood. She brought it to her lips and drank, although it tasted brackish and foul.

The night was completely still. Nothing had changed.

She turned back to the Slayer who motioned for her to hurry. She helped him onto her shoulder and they walked back to the fire. The Slayer examined his leg in the light. There were three long horizontal gashes just above the knee on his right leg. They were bleeding very badly.

“Fortunate it was no higher, or it might have removed something vital. Show me your shoulder… no, that’s almost nothing. Can you move it?”

Vero made a circle with her arm and nodded.

“Just a scratch then. I need to close up my leg, fetch the bandages and catgut from my bag.”

Vero did so, but when he tried to take them from her, she could see that his hands were trembling too badly to hold them. “You’re shaking too much. I’ll have to sew them up.”

“Gods’ sake! Give me my wineskin at least.”

The Slayer took the wine. He started to drink and did not stop.

Vero cleaned the wounds with water and sutured them closed. There was blood, and the Slayer grunted when she pressed the needle through his flesh, but otherwise it was no different than sewing clothes. After everything that happened to her, Vero felt no nerves during the procedure.

She did not feel much of anything at all.

When it was finished, her stitches were not much straighter than they were patching shirts at home, but they held him together all the same. She found antiseptic poultices in his bag and bound one over the wounds with clean white bandages. The Slayer checked her work and grunted with satisfaction, before returning to his wineskin.

Vero checked herself. While treating the Slayer she slowly became painfully aware of her own injury. Right after the battle she hardly felt it, but the pain had grown steadily ever since.

She washed it and bandaged it with another poultice. The bottom of her dress was torn from the hem to her knees, but she had no other injuries so far as she could tell.

By the time she was finished, the Slayer had already drunk himself unconscious. She checked, and he was still breathing.

She must have fallen asleep herself soon after, because she remembered nothing more from that night.