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 happened was waiting for him. She took the pieces of the body from the bundle and washed them in the Water of Death. Then she arranged them piece by piece as they should be and they grew together until the wounds disappeared and there were not even any scars left. After that she sprinkled the body with the Water of Life and, lo, life returned to Vitazko and he stood up, well and healthy.

“Ah,” he said, rubbing his eyes, “I’ve been asleep, haven’t I?”

“Yes,” Nedyelka said, “and but for me you would never have wakened. How do you feel, my son?”

“All right,” Vitazko said, “except a little strange as if I had no heart.”

“You have none,” Nedyelka told him. “Your heart hangs by a string from a crossbeam in the castle.”

She told him what had befallen him, how his mother had betrayed him and how Sharkan had cut him to pieces.

Vitazko listened but he could feel neither surprise nor grief nor anger nor anything, for how could he feel since he had no heart?

“You need your heart, my son,” Nedyelka said. “You must go after it.”