Bits of adobe fell from the walls, joined by small chunks of tile from the ceiling. A loud boom echoed through the structure. Cracks and fissures made their way across the entire span of the floor. Pieces of the mosaic popped and flew into the air. Their voices did not falter as the dirt under the place where the mosaic had been, dropped and caved in. Dark smoke erupted from the gaping hole blanketing the room. As the quake intensified, the smoke pushed against the ceiling until it blew up and out in small pieces. The two heavy entryway doors flew back with a crash. One priest, still praying, glanced over his shoulder. His voice caught in his throat. A young girl, not more than twenty, hovered in the doorway. Her vacant eyes stared straight ahead. Wind whipped long tendrils of blond hair around her slender body as she floated forward. “We must leave, brothers. It is too late. We have lost,” he yelled over the raging wind.
