"Imagine a house comprised of many different rooms. Those rooms are many different shapes and sizes, and are filled with various kinds of furniture. Some of the rooms are connected to one another, and some aren't, while some are exceedingly difficult to reach, others are easily accessible. Some rooms are hidden inside others, and some have fallen into inhabitable disrepair.

"If you can imagine this house as I have described it, then you can conceive the basic model of our universe."

As Darius spoke, the Sin and I alighted from a yellow cab and pushed ourselves into the teeming mess that was Verweald International Airport. No matter the time of day, the traffic was obscene and the crowds were overwhelming. We didn't have tickets or papers, only a single carry-on bag held by the demon, but Darius was able to use the Tongue of the Realm to shove us through security and to bluff our way by the check-in station.

If I hadn't been terrified Balthier would suddenly appear behind a sun-burnt tourist, ready to kill us and everyone in sight, I would have been impressed by Darius's ingenuity.

The Sin continued speaking in a low, guttural voice, distracting himself from the mounting hunger leaching color from his eyes and sharpening his teeth, and my hand clutched his sleeve to keep us from being separated. "Think of each divided room within our theoretical house as a realm. Terrestria is a windowless closet surrounded by an untenable hall. That hall opens onto several other rooms, and many of those rooms—in turn—open onto one another.

"These areas are given delineation by walls. You can't walk through walls, can you?"

"No," I panted, dodging a runaway trolley being pushed by an overweight businessman yammering into his phone. The question was rhetorical, but I nevertheless answered. "I can't, though you seem to manage it well enough."

Darius grunted, unamused. He tugged us from the stream of meandering travelers to stop before a grossly overpriced gift shop. The Sin snatched two postcards from a wire rack and walked on without the clerk being any the wiser.

"Not without a great measure of difficulty, Sara. You see, these metaphoric walls we're discussing are made of something the Sins and most Terrestrians refer to as 'the void.' I believe Valians call it 'the Far Vale,' or something similar, and the Dreaming simply named it 'The Dream.' Regardless, it is all the same entity. The void is a realm unto itself, a place where living things do not and cannot tread, for the most part. Souls leave imprints upon the void, and it is thought they follow these imprints upon death, tracing that path so they can...pass on."

Darius's quiet words were nearly lost to the crush of voices echoing within the cavernous terminal. Soaring windows offered a view of the tarmac bathed in the somber colors of sunset, large jets and airplanes gliding upon the runways as their roaring engines vibrated through the scuffed floors underfoot.

"The void's more of a membrane than a wall, really. In some places it's quite thin, like rice paper, and in others it's very thick, thick as stone. It's not the same as the Realm, which the Sins can pass through fairly easily." Darius was muttering, preoccupied by the cards he was deftly folding between his fingers as we hurried. I didn't know what he was planning on doing with those.

"What does this have to do with Balthier?" I asked—cursing myself for uttering his name aloud. "And loa spirits?" 

"Loa spirits live within the void, Sara. I thought that much would be obvious." Darius handed me one of the postcards. It was folded into a slim rectangle with the white back facing outward. "Hold it like you've a ticket." 

I did as he said, thankful to have something to occupy my hands with. "If they're from a place no one alive can venture, how did Envy capture one?"

Darius looped his arm through mine as we entered the main bulk of the crowd. It was more difficult to stay together here. "How does one fish in the sea? You can't exist within it—not for long, anyway. He lured it to himself. They're attracted by strong emotions, particularly those associated with death. I must admit that I am...unfamiliar with loas, and thus can't say for certain what they appear as or what the totality of their power is. They were always considered to be myths—until their factuality was proven, that is." 

We stopped before the illuminated board listing flights out of VWX. The lines flickered and ebbed, filtering through the multitude of arrivals and departures. "There," the Sin said as his posture stiffened. "Gate five to London City Airport." He shoved us both in a different direction without another word. 

"T-that leaves in ten minutes!" I balked, and my worn slip-ons slid on the smooth tiles as Darius continued to drag me onward. The untidy bun my hair had been tied into while I'd been frantically packing was falling apart. Loose wisps of black hair trailed over my neck and face.

"Then you'd best hurry, Sara."

Irritating bastard, I seethed, clutching the faux-ticket to my chest as I all but ran to keep pace with the Sin. How does he even know how to navigate an airport?

Darius's questionable knowledge of modern air conveyance got us to the gate in record time. I hung from the demon's arm, massaging the stitch in my chest as I tried to ease my breathing and failed miserably.

"Stand up straight," he hissed, prodding my ribs as he eyed a pair of TSA personnel strolling by the boarding line. The two men were more interested in their phones than us, and I surmised it was close to the end of their shifts. Darius sucked in a harsh, rattling breath as they passed. His black eyes briefly returned to crimson before darkening once again.

"Darius...." I whispered as I leaned my weight upon his proffered arm. My wound ached as small fissures of pain were winding through my system, digging at nerves and tender muscles. "Your eyes...."

If the creature didn't exercise more caution in the usage of his power, he'd lose control of his hunger and of himself. I wouldn't be able to stand the guilt if Pride killed a bunch of hapless tourists.

The Sin passed the back of his hand across his brow, wiping clean the perspiration beading his flesh. "I'll be fine once we're on the plane."

The line shifted forward. Two willful kids ran circles around us and their harangued mother before shooting off into the rows of seats facing the gate. "So Envy ate one of these spirits, and now he can make...walls? This is how he trapped your brother?"

Darius blew air between his lips and flexed his fingers. "Basically. The wards he constructs are not like those created by scribes. They're virtually molecular sheets of the void drawn across the realms, existing in all planes of reality." Seeing my confusion, the Sin shook his head. "I cannot explain it any better than that. The ward is so thin, creatures with limited complexity to their souls—which includes all species aside from the Sins and the Absolians—can pass through without difficulty."

"But not you?"

"But not me." He paused and a thoughtful expression crossed his tired face. "He can also open gates into the Vale. Loas inherently have the ability to sift through the void, which is what separates Terrestria and the Realm of Sin from there. Balthier can open a temporary rift of the same sort, a small rip in the membrane of the void. As long as the tear is small, it swiftly heals and leaves no lasting damage."

The mother left the line to corral her misbehaving children. I watched her go, biting the inside of my cheek as I mulled over what Darius had said. The Sin's explanation implied the void and its barrier could be damaged. What would happen if the void separating us from others worlds was destroyed?

I discarded the thought, as I didn't have the time to indulge in such theoretical musings, not when two half-mad Sins were descending upon the city to claim our lives. Shivering, I silently urged the line to move faster.

"Why London?" I asked as I felt the airport grow cooler under Darius's influence. The man in front of us complained to his wife about how chilly airport management kept their gates and terminal.

"Suffice it to say, Balthier is not the only one who tricked a loa into his clutches. Not even the first."

My brow rose. I understood his implication. "We're going to find someone else who can make a ward? Someone who can keep Balthier out? Is—is it another Sin?" I didn't trust Darius's brethren. After all, of the four others I knew, two were trying to kill us, one spat upon Pride's shoes, and the other had betrayed us to our doom.

Darius shushed me as we approached the stewardesses. The older one glanced at her wrist watch and abandoned her post to help wrangle the mother's wayward children. I heard her mutter about bad parenting as she stomped by, which left the younger, twitchier stewardess to ask for our boarding passes. She flushed as Darius glowered at her.

"You see nothing wrong with our documents," the Sin muttered to the flustered woman, feigning the motions of handing over his blank postcard for her to scan. Nervous, I peeked behind us to see the stewardess and mother were on their way back, both children firmly in hand. "Everything is in order. You're going to let us board, then forget we were here."

The enraptured woman tipped her head in silent acquiescence, taking our folded postcards before handing them right back. "Enjoy your flight," she said, never dropping her blank gaze from the demon's. His lips curled with distaste, but Darius nonetheless thanked the woman and ushered us both past the podium before she could snap out of her impromptu memory lapse.

The Sin stumbled at the jet's threshold. Only my arm wrapped about his kept Darius from hitting the floor. Thankfully, the airport personnel who would typically greet oncoming passengers were already busy with their pre-flight checks, so the Sin's sudden loss of footing went unnoticed.

"God, you're heavy," I choked, grappling for purchase on the slick surface of his leather jacket. Darius detangled our arms with a curt word, then laid his upon my shoulders. I nearly joined him on the dirty floor as my knees buckled, but the Sin managed to find his feet before we could attract undue attention.

"Just get me to a seat."

His tone grated my already frayed patience, but I helped the Sin into the cabin and immediately shoved him onto one of the empty first class seats. The flight wasn't full, but I wouldn't risk walking into coach only to discover there were no seats available. That would arise suspicions. Once he was settled with his head lolling on one shoulder, I stepped over Darius's legs to take a spot by the window.

A blond steward walked by our seats, giving us an inquisitive look, but he only shrugged his narrow shoulders and continued with his duties. The mother and the now chastised children came aboard, taking the aisle toward the general rumble of coach. The jet's door was sealed. The pilot spoke over the intercom, providing information about our expected arrival time at LCY.

I sank into the leather padding my seat, staring out the window at the glass and steel façade of Verweald's airport, and felt as if I hadn't taken a breath since Daniel's intrusion earlier that afternoon. I allowed myself to inhale as the jet began to taxi on the runway. The sound was tragic, like the final gasp stolen by a swimmer before they succumbed to a rising tide.

Leaning on my knees, I swallowed the panic and nausea weaving complicated knots in my middle, unsure of where the smothering emotion was coming from. Balthier's threat had always been a prevalent, pressing dilemma—though it had never been so urgent before. I'd thought of the Sin in the abstract, as a concept looming upon my horizon, no different than the metaphoric figure of death riding his pale horse.

This was different. I'd been ordered to pack a bag, fleeing for my life at a moment's notice. Darius and I had bluffed our way onto an international flight, and were about to seek asylum from a heretofore unknown Sin capable of building barriers with the void's incorporeal essence. I'd been forced from my own home, cast into the unknown.

I told myself to breathe again.

Darius was watching, his eyes were fully black, but I felt the weight of their scrutiny touch upon my face, my neck, my hands. I clenched my fingers into white-knuckled fists and I listened to the unsettling rumble of the engine as it shuddered through my bones.

"Have you ever been to Rome?" The Sin abruptly asked, turning my attention from the window. A small smirk quirked the edge of his mouth, but his exhaustion and hunger still affected his strong countenance. He would need to eat soon.

"No," I replied. "I've never left the country."

Darius hummed, and when I shifted to watch the plane rove upon the tarmac again, he spoke. "I spent a great deal of time in ancient Rome, if you're curious to ask anything."

I pressed my lips into a firm line. "I know you're only trying to distract me from my nerves."

"So? Is there anything wrong with that?"

I frowned. No, not necessarily, but it was strangely magnanimous of Darius to offer information about himself. He knew of my love for classic Italian literature, so he could safely assume I was also interested in the history of Rome—especially a firsthand account of that history.

Sighing, I relaxed into the offered embrace of my seat and shut my eyes to the plane's beige interior. The sun balanced itself upon the crystalline waters of the western horizon, blazing in warm tones of gold and scarlet. I decided to take Darius's distraction, and to be grateful for it. "Well? Go on. Tell me about when you wore togas and strappy sandals."

The Sin laughed, and the heat of his quiet amusement seemed to fall across my shoulders in a mantle of ephemeral repose. As he began to speak, I clung to the sensation, desperate for it to remain though I knew it could not. The plane propelled itself forward faster and faster until a moment of quiet was suspended around us, and the aircraft began to ascend.

I didn't open my eyes as Darius murmured tales of an ancient empire and Verweald disappeared into the valley below. I was uncertain I would ever step foot in the City of Blood again.

Clasping the minute to my chest, I refused to release it. My past had been boring and bloody, and my future was murky and undecided.

I couldn't say what awaited us in England, but we were bound and determined to find out.