Sal can sense an odd aura around Oscar and Inaaya; Inaaya, around Oscar and Sal-- as if they're somehow protected, or off limits.

'The caster receives a vision of the future, and will not die until the vision of the future occurs. We tested it with captive-- devils, I suppose-- they shy away from the caster, almost as if they can tell.'

"Oh," she says, very quietly, "oh, that's actually really good."

She gets no response from Oscar, who continues to cry.

"Is it? You're sure? That's good, it's better when things are good. On its own it seems good but I am kind of worried about how freaked out Oscar is--"

Why do unexpected things have to happen when they are already making the necessary but slightly nervewracking choice to use magic.

"I'm pretty sure? It's-- Sano said, remember, that you definitely won't die until the vision happens."

"And I think I will decide how worried to be about Oscar freaking out when we find out what he saw."

Oscar gives no impression of being anything other than doomed.

His crying slowly becomes less intense, and after a period of staring at nothing with a stricken expression, he says "Hundreds of them. Like rats."

"Hundreds of what?"

He seems confused for a second. "Oh. Byakhee. All around the ballroom."

"I've changed my mind. This isn't good at all."

Inaaya's still laser-focused on Oscar. "What else was there?"

"We were all in the ballroom looking at the ritual from a distance-- it was near the end of the play. An actress I don't recognize kept stabbing Edwards-- really stabbing him but he healed over and over... Terrence was still with us."

"...no, I was right, that's great!"

"Or, I'd be happier if we stopped the play at the beginning, but we definitely won't die until almost the end, that's not ideal but it's extremely salvageable!"

"The byakhee? Can we go back to the hundreds of byakhee for just one second?"

"There were literally hundreds of them, yes." He fails to suppress a shudder. "Seemingly... attracted by the end of the play. Or ritual, I guess I should say. I assume they didn't stab anyone in the performance you saw."

"They did not. So we're going to survive until nearly the end but then in those last moments there are... a ridiculous number of creatures that are to my understanding very protective of all this stuff and that can eviscerate a man in one stroke."

"Yes. That's about the shape of it."

"Not to mention just seeing them is not good on the nerves."

Meanwhile--

Jing Yi wakes up, bleary-eyed, and discovers himself to be in a hospital. The antiseptic smell and off-white walls are distinctive.

It's not the first time he's woken up in a different location than he last remembered being, but waking up in a hospital is a new one. (Even if last time he probably should have been in a hospital.) It just... raises a lot of questions like "what hospital is he in?" "what is the date today?" and "how the hell did he get here."

He looks around the room in case there's some other clue to this weird situation.

Well, there's a nurse between his legs changing the bedpan.

"Where am I?" His voice sounds weird, like he hasn't talked for a long time, and that is alarming. "I know it's a hospital, but... which one?"

"St. Agnes's. It's in Herefordshire."

So he's in the town he last remembers being in. That's a start! That's a good start. "How long have I been here?"

"Four days. It's the 22nd."

Jing Yi may remember that the full moon, and Chris Parker being vulnerable to stabbing, is on November 28.

It's not the full moon yet, thank God. (...Mr Smith, his old religion teacher, would have a conniption if he knew he was talking the Lord's name in vain in the context of a murder.)

It's an open question whether they'll let him out, and he can get to London in time, but it's a possibility at least. "I assume I'm doing fine? Other than being... unconscious for several days?"

"The doctors couldn't figure out what was wrong with you," the nurse said. "You fell asleep and you just... couldn't wake up."