As she landed on the windswept summit, the was already in full, chaotic swing:

: At the center sat a colossal figure with black fur and symmetrical, twisted horns—the Great Goat. Witches approached to offer personal sacrifices or perform the osculum infame (the shameful kiss) beneath his tail as a sign of loyalty.

The moon hung like a jagged bone over the Harz Mountains as Elspeth applied the foul-smelling ointment—a mixture of grease and "nasty ingredients"—to her skin. The world shifted, the air thick with the scent of pine and something ancient. With a sudden, sickening jolt of weightlessness, she felt herself ascending above the treetops.

: Small cauldrons bubbled with pseudo-runes etched into their sides, while black cats and frogs flitted through the shadows. The air vibrated with a dissonant music—a "Dream of a Witches’ Sabbath"—where screeching laughter replaced melody.