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Garda's senses all came swimming back in a jarring rush.
She had the feeling of hard, bare wooden floorboards against the back of her aching head, as well as under her shoulder blades and buttocks.
Garda's nostrils were filled with the smell of dry rot and turpentine.
Garda reached up to touch her face.
She realized she could not see her hands, and at first this made her think she had been struck blind.
Swiftly she patted down her head, face, and body, checking for injuries.
None were found.
She twitched her feet to make sure she still had full movement.
There was the clink and clank of metal chains when she did this, and Garda could feel the grip of a cold, hard shackle around one ankle.
Wondering if she was in a coffin, she slowly raised both hands upwards, like someone doing a set of push-ups into the empty air.
There was nothing.
She lifted her foot again to make noise with the chain and could tell by the sound that she was in a small room.
Garda sat up.
She reached forward and down to the shackle on her ankle.
Then she groped a little more and found the chain it was attached to.
The chain was of a heavy gauge, something that would take many hours to cut through with a hacksaw.
She gripped part of the chain, lifted it slightly and pulled on it.
The other end was bolted fast somewhere she could not see.
Garda moved as quietly as she could and got on all fours.
She used her hand to follow the chain to its other end.
It was fastened to a large, cold, oblong stone.
The stone seemed to be sitting by itself in the middle of the floor.
In the profound absence of any illumination, Garda felt carefully with her hand all around the stone's surface.
The stone was large enough for her to wrap both arms around.
She touched a large, flat, and slightly spiraled shape.
Garda's senses all came swimming back in a jarring rush.
She had the feeling of hard, bare wooden floorboards against the back of her aching head, as well as under her shoulder blades and buttocks.
Garda's nostrils were filled with the smell of dry rot and turpentine.
Garda reached up to touch her face.
She realized she could not see her hands, and at first this made her think she had been struck blind.
Swiftly she patted down her head, face, and body, checking for injuries.
None were found.
She twitched her feet to make sure she still had full movement.
There was the clink and clank of metal chains when she did this, and Garda could feel the grip of a cold, hard shackle around one ankle.
Wondering if she was in a coffin, she slowly raised both hands upwards, like someone doing a set of push-ups into the empty air.
There was nothing.
She lifted her foot again to make noise with the chain and could tell by the sound that she was in a small room.
Garda sat up.
She reached forward and down to the shackle on her ankle.
Then she groped a little more and found the chain it was attached to.
The chain was of a heavy gauge, something that would take many hours to cut through with a hacksaw.
She gripped part of the chain, lifted it slightly and pulled on it.
The other end was bolted fast somewhere she could not see.
Garda moved as quietly as she could and got on all fours.
She used her hand to follow the chain to its other end.
It was fastened to a large, cold, oblong stone.
The stone seemed to be sitting by itself in the middle of the floor.
In the profound absence of any illumination, Garda felt carefully with her hand all around the stone's surface.
The stone was large enough for her to wrap both arms around.
She touched a large, flat, and slightly spiraled shape.
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