Master, the paintings, the paintings in the storage rooms!" I cried.
"Forget the paintings. It's too late. Boys, run from here, get out now, save yourselves from the fire."
Knocking the attackers back, he shot up the stairwell and called down to me from the uppermost railing. "Come, Amadeo, fight them off, believe in your strength, child, fight.

Auteur: Anne Rice