12: Magical Band of FoolsStepp sat comfortably on Anya’s throne in the netherworld, playing with the voodoo doll in the witch’s likeness. The bantling didn’t know how long he’d been sitting here, waiting for his creator to return, but he knew time didn’t pass the same here as it did out there. He also felt himself growing stronger with each passing second—minute, hour, week, month? He couldn’t tell.
He hadn’t quite gotten speech down yet—and, as far as he had seen, no Mushroom Cult ghoul had yet either—but he could control his limbs with resistance now instead of feeling like they were Jell-O, constantly flopping around. And that meant he had options.
He tapped a foot while he waited for the witch’s return. He’d been waiting patiently since the tornado of vultures had removed him from th
