“Now, now,” croaked one, her ugliness distinguishing her even in such an assemblage. “It must be true what they say—that you can buy flying ointment at every apothecary’s in Świdnica! Now everyone flies: lizards, fishes and toads! Any moment now, and those Poor Clares from Strzelin will start flying here. Are we to put up with it, I ask? Who are they?”

“You’re right!” said another hag, showing a single tooth. “You’re right, dear Madam Sprenger! They ought to say who they are! And who told them about the sabbath?”

“You’re right, you’re right, dear Madam Kramer!” croaked a third, bent double, with an impressive collection of hairy warts on her face. “They ought! For they may be spies!”

“Shut your trap, you old cow,” said the red-haired witch in the black hat. “Don’t put on airs. I know these two. Will that suffice?”

Madams Kramer and Sprenger wanted to object and argue, but the red-haired witch cut short the discussion with a menacing shake of her clenched fist, and Jagna summed things up with a disdainful burp, loud and long, emerging from the very bottom of her guts. Then the adversaries became separated by a line of witches walking across the slope.

The young witch with the foxy face and the unhealthy complexion, the one who had prophesied in the wilderness, accompanied her sisters.

As before, a garland of verbena and clover rested on her fair hair. As before, her dark-circled eyes shone. And she was staring at Reynevan unceasingly.

“Others are also observing you,” said the red-haired witch, “so to prevent further incidents, you must, as neophytes, come before the Domina. Then no one will dare to pester you. Follow me. Up to the top.”

“May I presume we’ll be in no danger there?” asked Reynevan, clearing his throat.

The red-haired witch turned and fixed him with her green eyes.

“It’s a bit late to be afraid,” she drawled. “You needed caution when you were rubbing on the ointment and mounting the bench. I don’t want to be overly nosey, confrater, but at our first meeting, I understood that you’re the kind of person who always gets into trouble and ends up where he shouldn’t. Though, as they say, it’s none of my business. But are you in any danger from the Domina? That depends on what you conceal in your hearts. If it be anger and treachery—”

“No,” he retorted at once. “I can assure you of that.”

“You have nothing to fear, then.” She smiled. “Let’s go.”