Chapter 8Aeneas’s mouth filled with salty blood, and red foamed from his lips. He tried to swallow another scream and failed.
‘Boy? That you?’ Father’s voice was far away.
Aeneas gnashed his teeth and moaned. He couldn’t move. Flames continued to scourge his back. Every part of him wanted to cry out, to tell Father he was there, but all he knew was burning.
Fresh air stroked his face. He blinked, strained to focus. Ankhises leaned on the doorframe, wheezing.
‘Oh, Hades.’ Ankhises limped to Aeneas’s side. ‘I—it’s all right. It’s me, boy. I’m here.’ Father raised his hands toward the roof. ‘Help us, you gods. Help him.’
The wind shrieked through the bell tower. No help came.
Swearing under his breath, Ankhises bent and grabbed the soldier’s javelin lying on the floor. He wedged the poi
