The child reluctantly lowered her hands.
“I need you to be brave now. We can’t stay here. I have to lower you down, okay?”
“I can’t,” Rory sobbed. They were the first words she’d spoken since Attia had found her.
“Don’t be afraid. Just hold on to this sheet as tightly as you can and keep your eyes on me.” Attia lifted her onto the windowsill. “Be brave, Rory. Xanthus will catch you.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll be right behind you. I promise.” Attia looked out the window. Xanthus was standing ready below, his arms outstretched. “Don’t be afraid,” Attia said again and kissed Rory’s cheek. “Everything is going to be okay.”
Rory clung to the linen rope as Attia lowered her to the ground in jagged, uneven intervals. She could only use one arm, and small as the child was, her weight was pulling Attia down. Soon, she was low enough for Xanthus to reach, and Attia felt the relief in the tension of the sheet. Rory looked so small, so frail in Xanthus’s arms. Sabina quickly untied her and carried her away, leaving the sheet hanging free from the window.
Xanthus looked up at her. “Your turn!”
Attia was more than ready. She swung one leg over the windowsill, but before she could get a firm grip on the roped up linen, the earth rumbled again and knocked her back into the room. Her head hit the floor with a loud thud.
Everything became fuzzy. The walls, the ceiling, and the sky all blurred together. Even the sounds of shouting were dull, as though she was listening to everything underwater. She knew she had to move. She knew she had to get out. “I’m coming,” she mumbled. “I’m coming.” But it took so much effort to even lift her head up off the floor.
All she could see out the window were flames. Pompeii glowed red. Vesuvius roared at the sky, and a piece of the mountain broke away, letting loose another torrent of liquid fire. Everything burned. People stood huddled together and screaming on their rooftops, praying for help that would never come.
But he came for her.
Attia should have known that he would.
Before she realized what was happening, Xanthus had climbed the knotted sheet and was right beside her, cradling her close. He slung her across his shoulders, one hand holding her arm while he used the other to climb back down to the ground.
Crius waited for them along with Albinus, Lebuin, and two of the Maedi warriors. They’d taken some of Timeus’s prized horses and were ready to mount.
“I sent the others ahead,” Crius said. “We’ll have to move fast. Here—I can carry her.”
Xanthus said nothing, but a moment later, Attia felt him toss her onto a horse and then vault up behind her. His arms held her tight against him, warming her against the abrupt coolness of the breeze coming off of the Tyrrhenian. In the distance, three black ships sailed away.
“Hold on,” Xanthus said. “Just a little farther.”
“Too far,” Attia said. The fires were getting close. Extreme heat made the air around the villa shimmer like a mirage.
Xanthus’s face hardened with determination. “Bullshit.” He kicked his horse’s flanks, and they broke into a gallop, clearing the crumbled remains of the estate’s outer wall with a single leap. The jarring movement made Attia’s injured arm throb from shoulder to fingertip.
As they rode away, Attia looked back over Xanthus’s shoulder. Behind them, the flames had reached the gate to the villa. The river of fire completely consumed the courtyard in a matter of minutes. A great rumble reverberated through the ground. Attia watched in horror as a whole piece of the cliffside broke away and the western section of the house fell into the sea. The heat of it singed the ends of her hair and made sweat bead all along her face.
The horses proved a tribute to their breed—their little group was actually managing to outrun the flames. Attia vaguely heard Ennius shout out to them from some point ahead.
Then the earth began to shake, and this time, it didn’t stop.
A few of the horses stumbled, and the next thing Attia felt was rough grass under her cheek. Her arm dangled over empty space, and she was dizzy. So dizzy.
Everyone was shouting as the ground beneath them fractured, chafing and grinding against itself. Lebuin clung to the turf with one hand. With his other, he tried to hold on to one of the Maedi warriors who lay unconscious beside him. But the man was too heavy. Lebuin groaned as his grip failed and the Maedi fell.
Farther away, Xanthus sprawled on a piece of rock that was starting to separate from the cliff. His eyes were closed, and blood pooled beneath his temple. Attia struggled to reach his hand.
The other gladiators and the Maedi rushed back to help. Ennius limped along behind them as fast as he could. Albinus and Crius grabbed branches and vines—anything they could reach.
Xanthus’s eyes fluttered open. He turned his head and looked straight at Attia. “Breaking,” he whispered. “It’s breaking.” He blinked rapidly as though trying to clear his vision.
“Just hold on!” Attia cried.
Lebuin managed to lift himself a little higher, reaching out for the vines, but they snapped as soon as he tried to pull on them. He lunged for a branch hanging nearby and missed. Then he fell, his body slicing through the air and down to the sea. He didn’t make a sound.
Attia’s voice became sharp with panic as she called Xanthus’s name. It took so much of her strength to fight off the darkness that loomed at the corners of her eyes, but she had to.
He’d come back for her. He’d kept his promise, despite the danger. He was willing to die for her, and she didn’t think she’d ever loved anyone more than she loved Xanthus in that moment.
With everything she had left, she reached across the divide and finally grabbed his hand. The rock beneath him was crumbling faster, slipping out from under him.
“I’ve got you,” she said. “Just hold on.”
Xanthus met her eyes before placing a soft kiss on the back of her hand. The rock beneath him cracked in half. “Run.”
Then he let go.
Attia screamed and screamed as Xanthus tumbled over the edge, her cries following him down into the depths of the Tyrrhenian.
CHAPTER 25
It took all of the gladiators to keep Attia from following Xanthus into the sea.
Crius pressed his fingers against her neck in a series of movements that forced her into unconsciousness. The silence that followed made their ears ring.
They ran as fast as they could, heavy with so many burdens.
Pompeii burned in their wake.
By the time Attia opened her eyes again, dawn was only a few hours away. They’d stopped to rest at the base of a grassy hillside. Their backs were turned so that they didn’t have to look at the devastation they’d left behind.
Attia scrambled to her feet, looking frantically around. Forgetting. Just for a second. “Xanthus!”
Crius stood and shook his head, reaching for her. “He’s gone, Attia.”
“No!” She pushed him away with a violent lurch, her eyes skittering desperately over the landscape. “No! We have to go back!”