“I don’t know how else to say it. I get out of class and want to do nothing but sit in a corner without moving.”
“Rejection? No. I tested thoroughly. Are you eating enough? You must eat twice as much, or more, than you used to.”
“I’m having two helpings at every meal,” Des said with insistence. She really had. Even when it hurt. Even when everyone pointed and whispered behind her back. Getting a larger stomach might help with the first problem. Nothing would help the second problem.
Thinking about school brought up ill memories. Des shook her head and sighed. “I’m glad you got school canceled for the rest of the week.”
“That,” he said with an even wider smile, “was an accident. As I said, disappointing. I thought the short one had a good head on its shoulders. Then neither of them follows orders. Pathetic. What do people see in them?”
Des shook her head as she carefully removed the man’s stomach. Even without the proper ability to smell, spilling its contents always ended up with an annoying cleanup.
“Can’t I stay here with you, daddy? I don’t want to go back.”
“Ah-ah,” he said as he ticked one gloved finger back and forth. “At the very least, Hugo would be more useful if he learned magic. I’ll see about tweaking your caloric intake to something more manageable.”
“But daddy, I’m sure Hugo could manage–”
“Oh, take out the heart too.”
Des glanced down at the faintly beating heart in her hands. She estimated less than a minute, roughly thirty to thirty-five beats remained. Holding on until the last beat was one of her favorite parts. But removing it?
She tossed a confirming glance at her father.
“We won’t need it. I’ve got a different heart to try out.”
“A different heart?”
“Oh yes. I’m not sure if it will work, but no harm in trying.” As he glanced at their subject, his grin curled upwards until it started threatening to cut off the top of his head. “Well, except for you of course. I don’t expect you to be worried about that much longer.”
Des doubted the man was still conscious.
A shame really.
“Why not use the heart in its own body? That’s better, right daddy?”
“Usually. This is a special case. An experiment, if you will.” He turned off to one side and shouted, “Hugo!”
The glassy-eyed boy wheeled in a sheet covered gurney.
“Killing them just makes everything disappear. But your future friend gave me an idea. Several actually, but this one idea is required for the others. You see, parts of them don’t disappear if they were detached before death.”
He whisked off the sheet and tossed it over Hugo’s head.
Three arms, a leg from the knee down, and several things Des couldn’t even guess at all lay on the table. Claws, tentacles, and even eyes. None of them looked remotely human.
“It was tricky and quite enjoyable trying to figure out exactly how much I could get away with before the things died.”
He took one arm off the slab and placed it over their current subject’s arm. “We’ll attach analogous limbs where they go, removing the existing meat. The rest,” he took a hook-like thing–Des couldn’t even decide what it might have been originally used for–and started placing it around the body. “Well, we’ll handle them on a case by case basis.”
Des took the knee-length leg. There was no indication whether it was a left or a right leg. Looking at it closely, it might have even been a hand. “We won’t be able to make these very fast.”
“We’ll get faster with practice. Once this one is finished, I’m sure he’ll be happy to help. Then the next ones we build will help build more which will help build more. And so on! Besides, trying new things is fun! And,” he reached up and pinched both of Des’ cheeks. She could feel the sticky blood he left behind. “It is good bonding time.”
Des would have blushed if she could. She was about to comment back, but her father already had the man’s arm off. How he managed that fast, Des had no idea. She’d have to work double time to even keep somewhat near him.
“Huh,” he said. He brought a bent stitching needle right in front of his wide grin. “I think we need the heavy-duty needles.”
— — —
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
Nel tore the tentacle out of the air in front of her and flung it across the chamber. It landed with a slop against the floor. She slammed her hands into the marble altar.
None of her tension left with that brief bout of rage.
She was so tired. Nel collapsed on the altar, putting her head against the cold marble. Just a short rest.
The peace was intoxicating. Relaxing every day with Lady Ylva. Being well-fed and well-rested. Nothing trying to kill her–probably.
