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said to him, "Look at me."
    Seeker looked at him. He knew at once he shouldn't have done it, but it was too late. The Noma's gaze held him, and Seeker felt the strength slip away from his body, and he knew he was falling.

5 An Old Man's Tears
    W HEN S EEKER WOKE, HE WAS LYING ON A HARD BED IN an unknown room. He gave no sign that he was awake, because he realized at once that he wasn't alone in the room and he wanted first to work out how he came to be here. As his confusion of tangled thoughts slowly regained focus, he found that he was unharmed and that he was not bound or restrained in any way. Judging from the stone vault of the ceiling above him, he was still somewhere in the Nom. He risked turning his head very slightly and saw that there were two figures at the far end of the long room, both of them Nomana. They were talking in soft voices, presumably so as not to disturb him. One was a man's voice; the other, a woman's. Seeker lay very still and listened and tried to work out what had happened. They had been doing something bad to his brother. What had it been? Yes! Blaze had been cleansed! With the returning memory came a burst of anger that made his cheeks burn. Cleansing was almost a form of death in life. Cleansing was for criminals and murderers. A person who was cleansed by the Nomana lost all memory and will and desire. It was a return to infancy. How could they do this to Blaze?
    He caught the odd word from the far end of the room, whenever the man raised his voice. The woman's voice was too soft and low for him to hear. He caught the words
secret weapon
and then
great danger.
There was one word that recurred several times, which at first he didn't understand, but he made it out at last. It was
Radiance.
They were talking about the great city of that name, the heart of the empire that dominated the land to the north.
    Then the woman turned and saw that his eyes were open.
    "He's awake."
    She came to his side. She had short-cropped gray hair and a kind face, deeply lined with age. Like all Nomana when within the Nom, she wore her badan down over her shoulders.
    "How do you feel?" she said, and pressed her dry hand to his brow.
    "All right," said Seeker. "Where am I?"
    "You're in the Nom. In the sickroom."
    "Why?"
    The man now stood over him, frowning down at him. Seeker recognized him. His name was Narrow Path, and he was said to be a brother of great holiness. He had a high bald brow and a lean bony face.
    "That is for you to tell us," he said.
    "Later," chided the woman. "The boy's still in shock."
    "He looks perfectly healthy to me. Can you sit up?"
    Seeker sat up.
    As he did so, the door opened and a wheelchair rolled in, carrying a shrunken old man, pushed by an old woman. The old woman was one of the Nom meeks. The old man was the most revered of all the Nomana, the Elder of the Community. He was fast asleep and snoring. Narrow Path glanced towards the Elder, frowned a frown of irritation, and turned back to Seeker.
    "Explain yourself," he said. "You have no right to be here."
    Seeker was ready to explain, as best as he could, but Narrow Path's sharp tone reawakened his sense of anger.
    "You've no right to do that to my brother!"
    "Brother? What brother?"
    "Blaze. The one you were—you were—"
    Tears sprang into his eyes. The kind-faced woman understood him.
    "Oh, my dear!" she said. "Blaze of Justice is your brother?"
    Seeker nodded.
    Narrow Path seemed to find in this even more reason to frown.
    "Has Blaze of Justice communicated with you?"
    "No," said Seeker.
    "Then why did you come sneaking into the Nom?"
    "I wasn't sneaking. I was—I was—"
    He realized he had no sensible explanation. Narrow Path shook his shiny bald head and looked yet more grave.
    "You knew precisely where to come. You knew how to find your brother. Who told you?"
    "I didn't know. No one told me."
    Narrow Path turned to the woman and spoke in a low voice.
    "This is not good. Something here is not right at all."
    Seeker's