She realizes within moments, taking stock of herself, that she's at +4 INT and +4 WIS relative to her pre-Crown baseline, the recognizable feeling of the standard spells or some minor infernal variant of them. There's a thin headband on her skull that's likely giving her +6 Splendour back out of -12 cursed and -6 Crown-lost. She could cast lesser sorceries like this, if not Teleport. Knocking her unconscious didn't exactly give her the equivalent of a good night's sleep, and her body feels stiff in a way suggestive of having been left in a heap for longer than one night, empty in a way that suggests hunger magically fed.
The senior devil is a Bdellavritra, a three-headed worm that by reputation is intelligent, wise, charismatic, and excels at cruelly manipulative schemes. With some lesser part of her wit restored, it takes little time for Abrogail to deduce that this meeting must concern Keltham.
"I'm functional," Abrogail reports briefly, and awaits requests or explanations. She has lost far too much pride already before Hell.