The Devil You Know Diedre’s lacquered nails tapped out the remaining minutes of Sister Aynaet’s boring lecture on the history of Hell’s preeminent archons. She was trapped here, feeling her life slip away as the old demoness droned on and on while the chalk in her claws ticked away at the slate board. What was the good of being an immortal quasi succubus if the Hosts of Hell took a very stringent view on the need of a proper prepatory education.