The entity pulled back thirty-seven minutes ago. The cathedral had not stopped shaking since.
Aiden walked through the central nave while chunks of stone fell from the ceiling. Dust coated everything.
Cracks ran along the pillars like veins, and every few steps another rift hissed open in the air before snapping shut. The building was dying. So were parts of the people inside it.
Flora sat against a broken pew, knees drawn up. Her eyes darted left and right at things no one else could see. Sweat ran down her face even though the air had grown cold.
Catherine knelt beside her, one hand on her daughter's shoulder, the other clenched so tight the knuckles were white.
"She keeps whispering names," Catherine said without looking up. "Names of people we killed weeks ago. Then she laughs. Then she cries. Her power spiked earlier and nearly took Isolde's arm off."
Flora's head jerked. "They're saying I should open the door wider, Mother. They say it feels good."
