36 pages, comb bound, cardstock covers
Oh, Gods, my head hurts.
Deri tried to bring a hand to her face to smooth away the pain, but found she could only move each arm a fraction of an inch.
Why?
She opened her eyes, blearily, painfully, the lids scratching across like sandpaper. Nothing. Wherever she was, it was too dark to see.
Though she wanted more than anything to slide back into sleep and forget any worries, she struggled to drag her thoughts together, the throbbing in her head increasing until it was a red pounding as sharp as the blows of a hammer.
--Look, learn, think, then act. Look, learn, think, then act.-- She repeated the litany over and over, trying to pull herself out of the lethargic stupor of pain and disorientation. Deri moved her hands slowly, and felt something smooth and hard beneath her wrists.
Cold, too, but not cold enough to be metal or stone. Wood, then.
She twisted her wrists and felt the resistance again. She could just get her hands around far enough to feel what was holding them back.
My hands are tied down. Why are my hands tied down?
Ohhh--it hurts too much to think...
