Lyra woke up on a bed of moss, flat on her back and staring at a clear blue sky.
This posed several questions. For one, she didn't remember ever falling asleep. Hell, she couldn't remember anything from the night before. Secondly, she lived in the heart of Vegas. Anything besides the bustle of the city would be out of place, let alone green vegetation.
As she tried to sit up to look around, Lyra discovered she couldn't so much as wiggle a finger. In her panic she tried to open her mouth to cry out for help, but even her jaw wouldn't move. It didn't feel as if anything bound her to the ground. She was paralyzed.
After hours lying still, fear subsided and in its place stood boredom. The only changes were the occasional gust of cool wind and distant birdsong. Her joints ached from lack of motion, and she began to worry about pressure sores developing. She also worried about food. Hunger pangs hadn't started yet, but Lyra could tell she would need to eat soon. With nothing else to do, she drifted off to sleep again.
She had no idea how long she had been asleep. The tone of light hadn't shifted, and were it not for the lack of a sun in view she'd guess it had been high noon the entire time she'd been stuck here. Had she slept a whole twenty-four hours?No, the light hadn't changed after she woke up the first time either. Suddenly everything felt very wrong. Trying to keep herself from falling into a full panic, she focused on finding what she could do.
Her eyelids could still move, at least. Blinking wasn't a huge accomplishment but it was better than not being able to move at all. Breathing in deeply, she watched her chest rise and fall. She realised she must have been able to move her eyes to do that. Without tilting her head, she looked as far to the left as she could and saw the branches of trees swaying in the wind. Her right side was similar. She must have been in the centre of a clearing in the woods. Where was the nearest forest? California, maybe?
As she contemplated how far she would have had to travel to end up in a mossy clearing, she absentmindely scratched an itch on her cheek. She realised with a start that she could move her arm, and suddenly it was frozen again. It was as if she could only move if she didn't focus on moving. Trying very hard not to think about moving wouldn't work too well. She needed a distraction.