Chapter 9Every step down the hill drained Aeneas of strength. The village of the Arkadians seemed a hundred miles away. What in Hades was wrong? He shouldn’t be this weary after a simple walk. He staggered like a drunkard.
By the time he reached the bottom, his head hurt as though someone had pressed a red-hot iron against his temple. Not the sharpness of a wound, but a throbbing sickness. The pain burned so intensely he wanted to scream, but only a soft moan escaped. Nobody to hear him among the trees.
He stumbled toward a nearby clearing, fighting to regain his balance all the way. The ground beneath his feet seemed to be shaking. An earthquake? He held a hand over his eyes, the morning light drilling into his skull. He leaned against an elm and slid down. His muscles were leaden and h
