“Walpurgis, stop that,” Agnes snaps. “You’re supposed to be a servant of Satan, not a gibbering pup.” Agnes, bless her immortal soul, is still a little pissed about the whole being hanged as a witch thing. She told me once that if she’d known she’d be accused of consorting with the devil, she’d have been much more wicked during her lifetime. Now she’s determined to make up for it in death.
