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Brendin barely caught the mute girl as she collapsed from the strain of holding up the ceiling, blood streaming down her face.  Already the crisscrossing network of red energy was receding and the ceiling beginning to cave again.  Alessio was shouting something, but the rumbling drowned out his voice.

Jericho quickly strode to the center of the chamber and thrust one hand upwards.  The falling rubble halted, midair, held up by some invisible force.  She looked around the room, scouring the walls for some hint of an exit.  There.  The wall deepest in shadow, there was a draft coming from it.  With her free hand she pointed to the opening.  “There.  There’s an opening.  Hurry, the ceiling won’t remain stable for long.”

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