Barnabas fell to his knees, leaving his bodyguard momentarily bewildered. Trace and Anaisa watched with horror and fascination.
The tortured shrieks escaping the evil man's mouth were blood chilling. He held his head and tore at it with his fingernails, as if he could claw Emily's voice from his brain with them.
Blood leaked from his nose and one of his ears.
His face contorted in absolute agony as he struggled to control himself. He shook as if on the verge of a seizure.
"STOP!!!!" He howled at the top of his lungs. The echo of a command reverberated off the walls, penetrating deep into the cave. Trace froze, and glanced at Sanders. The seer's hand gripped the broken head of a spear tightly, and the farmer knew they had to act before Emily heard and obeyed the echoing command.
Trace let go of Anaisa and lunged for Oakdown.
Ding dong, the Count is dead. Which old count? the wicked Count!