again his gaze turned inward , and i knew with the genius of a child 's intuition that he had lost his grip on the moment and had fallen as swiftly as icarus down to the bright , bloody memory of that night , where his family now dwelled , like the tortured souls of dante 's dream writhing in eternal torment , forever devoured but never consumed , their death throes replayed endlessly while he , malachi , lay paralyzed with dread , helpless to halt the slaughter , his dear sister fainted by his side , the one who had sought salvation from him , the one and only one he had had any chance of rescuing , but whom even a brother 's love could not save .