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There was never a gryphon in these mountains.

Only gold and jewels and greed. When the enslaved miners revolted, the king and queen resurrected the old legend to frighten the miners into obedience and then planned to find a virgin sacrifice among the miners’ daughters.

So Volkir and I gave them a real gryphon, swooping overhead and insisting – through messages from a hermit druid (also Volkir) – that the proper sacrifice would be an ordinary girl who wandered in from the forest.

“Now, I believe you issued a challenge earlier, Mari,” Volkir says. “Take you if I can?” His brows waggle.

I rap his arm. “Later. First we need to divest the prince of his jewels. Then we must finish eliminating the monsters.”

Volkir bows. “As you wish, my lady.” He transforms into Sergeant Hauge. “Or would you prefer me like this?” Another suggestive brow waggle.

“I prefer you as yourself, at least until we reunite with the king and queen. Now, could you please check the saddlebags? I will see what I can find on our prince.”

***

The king and queen are still where we left them, awaiting the return of their son. Volkir had changed into a raven to confirm they were there. Now I run up the mountain, gasping, my dress torn and speckled with blood.

“My king!” I pant. “My queen!”

They’ve been lounging in their coach, and now the king flies out, sword in hand. Seeing me, he blinks.

“My king!” I stumble toward them. “Tragedy! Horrible tragedy! The prince is dead. The gryphon—The gryphon has murdered him.”

The queen clambers out. “What nonsense is this?”

“The prince!” I wail. “The prince is dead! Killed by the terrible beast!” I turn and raise my hand. “There! It comes! The gryphon comes! Save yourselves!”

As I run, the queen hikes her skirts and races toward me. “Get back here! The beast has come for you, girl.”

I spin. “No, Your Majesty. But fear not. All shall be well. Your sacrifice will not be in vain.”

“What—What sacrifice?”

“I will see that your legacy is honored. I will free the slaves you took to work the mine, and the riches from those mines will go to improving the lives of your people.”

She sputters. “What nonsense—”

“All will be well, and they will remember you.” I meet her eyes. “They will remember you and ensure they never see your like again.”

“What—”

The gryphon grabs her then, whisking her into the air.

“Oh!” I shout after her. “Captain Basara and his men are fine! Let that be a comfort to you!”

Her screams say it is not a comfort, but still, I can always hope.

***

Killing the monsters is only the first step. Then comes days of work to ensure our efforts weren’t for naught. While Volkir and I have never actually met a real hydra, tyrants come close – lop off one head, and another appears to take its place. We need to be sure that does not happen.

The king, queen and prince are recovered and laid to rest – so sad!

The gryphon appears to have left the mountain – so happy!

The enslaved miners are freed, and the kingdom tears down the guard towers and restarts the mines for the people, just as their rulers wanted, according to what they told the hermit druid before sacrificing themselves to the beast – so… unexpected!

This is where poor Volkir is run ragged, playing endless roles to ensure success, as much as such a thing can ever be assured.

Once we have done our part, we retreat to a sumptuous inn, where I thank Volkir in the way he likes best. With hot baths and rich food and fine wines.

No, that is not the way he likes best, and this is why I am happily very much not a virgin.

But he still gets the hot baths and rich foods and fine wines, because he deserves them.

“We both deserve them,” he says, when I tell him this, and he pulls me to him in bed, legs entwined with mine, whispering words of sweetness and love.

This is what it means to hunt monsters. Sacrifice, in its own way, and certainly danger, but reward, too. Fate has rewarded me with the satisfaction of knowing I help others, but it also gave me this for myself. A partner who happily joins my quest and believes in it as much as I do.

I kiss him, smiling at the soft changes of his lips beneath mine. Then I nudge him back on the bed and straddle him.

“I have an idea,” I say.

He grins. “Please share.”

“For something new.”

Volkir’s brows waggle. “Most excellent.”

“A mission where I am not the designated virgin sacrifice.”

His brows arch. Then his grin grows. “Ah. We do this, then?”

He shifts forms into a sweet maiden, with tan skin and long copper hair.

I laugh. “No, sorry. You still need to play the monster. I cannot do that. But I have heard there is a wyvern terrorizing a realm, and the bishop is holding a contest for the prettiest virgin.”

Volkir rolls his eyes, having shifted back to his quicksilver shape. “Of course he is. Winner is sacrificed to the wyvern. Runner-up gets to warm the bishop’s bed.”

“Likely. Now, I cannot win a beauty contest, so I propose we rescue the winner and slay the monster. Then we can send the winner off with money from the bishop’s coffers.” I consider. “Perhaps set all the girls up on their own. All the contestants.”

He rises to press his lips to mine. “An excellent plan.”

“Good.”

“But are you sure you don’t want…” He shifts back to the comely maiden, copper brows dancing.

I laugh and lean down to kiss him. “Why not?”