… then I think I can safely say I have done all I can,” the medic growled, throwing the pile of cloth at him – his clothing, of course. “Take your belongings. We are done here.”
Gareth was more confused than shocked. “That’s it? Does my heart work?”
“It works well enough to keep you talking at me,” said the medic dismissively. “It certainly is not worse than it was. Maybe a bit different. But not worse”
“If… if I have problems with it in the future, should I return?”
“No,” the medic replied curtly. “It is a demon heart now, so the procedure can not be done this way again. I could try a regular transplant if you brought me a human sacrifice. Or gnome. Whatever you are.”
Gareth realized that that was her way of telling him to leave. He placed a hand over his chest and waited, finally detecting the steady pulse of his demonic heart. He wasn’t accustomed to not feeling his heart flutter.
The old goblin medic had returned to her various tasks and Gareth decided to take his leave. He thanked her, and her assistants – those seen and unseen – and he even called out a ‘thank-you’ to the beast Pardell, wherever she was hidden. It was the last he saw of the Marrow Hole. … [cont.]
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