She saw nothing but utter blackness, felt nothing but the cold stone beneath her back, its chill soaking through her robes. She took a deep breath, her throat and tongue dry and rough. Something soft and clinging covered her face and throat, and she tried to pull it off. But her shaking hands would not obey, and only after five tries did she reach her face, her fingers brushing her cheek and jaw.
She could not see anything in the blackness, but she recognized the feeling of the delicate threads she plucked from her face.
Cobwebs. She was pulling cobwebs from her jaw.
A wave of terrible exhaustion went through her, and a deeper darkness swallowed Calliande.