It was her past now, not Annabel’s. I was sure you could not have the heart to slay a child—an innocent child. ” “Does she have to sell her soul to the Devil?” Lucy asked, feeling stupid. “I am sure of it. She came originally of country stock, and had been virtually in sole charge of Melusine almost from the hour of her birth—a thankless task, as Melusine had heard her bemoan countless times, with the rider that she had carried it out with a conspicuous lack of success. You have the gift of words, but you haven't started to create yet. We'll lather him with mud, shave him with a rusty razor, and drench him with aqua pompaginis. I think she might be up to something.
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