One of the vampires in the group collapsed, dropping to his knees. His fingers tangled in his hair as he slammed his forehead against the ground, a tortured groan escaping his lips. He had been the first to suffer from the headache—the first to clutch his skull in agony, the first to vomit, and the one most crippled by his nightmare.
The scream didn't stop.
The others rushed to his side, murmuring frantic questions, but the citizens of Asvaldur—their lifeless husks—continued their aimless wandering, oblivious to the commotion.
"Are you alright? What's wrong? What happened?" Lady Maris crouched beside him, placing a steadying hand on his back.
He lashed out. With unnatural strength, he shoved her away, sending her skidding several feet.
"Mother!" Lisbeth gasped, hurrying to help her mother back to her feet.
