TWENTY TWO: EYES OPEN, EYES SHUT
The room came into focus gradually, followed by a splitting headache and the horrible realisation that his wrists were bound. Primus stared into space, starry-eyed, still woozy from the blows to the head.
He was seated on a wooden armchair. Ropes around his wrists and ankles looped through its armrests and tethered him to a bolt in the ceiling. Moving slowly, he tested his body. No broken bones. That was something, at least. There was just enough slack in his restraints to move his arms, but he just couldn’t get up.
“Oh, thank The Weaver, you’re awake.” The voice was familiar.
“Seraph?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
Primus looked to the source of the voice. Seraph was similarly bound to a chair next to him. By the look of it, she had been there a while. She was sl
