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that terrible blank expression on his soaked face, and to the way that when he saw Seeker he didn't recognize him.
    "They were wrong to do that," he said in a low voice.
    "The Nom is not wrong, boy. The Nom makes no mistakes. If you don't understand, it is because you lack knowledge, not because the Nom is wrong."
    "Blaze can't be a traitor! He just can't. He's nothing to do with this secret weapon, or Radiance, or anything like that."
    "What is done is done," said the Elder mildly. "The question now is what to do with you. It seems you know a little, and that is dangerous. You must either know enough to understand our situation, or you must know nothing at all."
    Seeker knew what that meant: it meant the buzzing noise in the washhouse, and the water flowing over his head, and all his memories and everything that made him what he was washing away down the drain.
    "I think I had better trust you, Seeker after Truth."
    Seeker looked up, surprised.
    "How do you know my name?"
    "You are the brother of Blaze of Justice. The son of our valued schoolmaster. How old are you now, boy? Fourteen? Fifteen?"
    "Sixteen, Elder. Today is my sixteenth birthday."
    "Sixteen already. Forgive me. You have a young face. So, Seeker, this is what you should know. The priest-king of Radiance has decided that Anacrea must be destroyed."
    "Destroyed! Why?"
    "That we don't know. Something has changed. The empire of Radiance has never had reason to fear us before. We don't have the power to overthrow kings, or the will to rule empires."
    "But if you chose to do it, Elder," said Seeker, burning with anger at the presumptuous threat, "you could call the Noble Warriors to battle, and our enemies would crumble before them!"
    "One battle, boy, and what then? You know how it is with our power. We can do great things, but we pay a great price. The strength we have at our command is driven by a life force that is slow to gather and quick to release. When we unleash that force in violence, the impact is overwhelming, but our strength is then gone. For long hours after, we're as weak as babies."
    Seeker heard this with consternation, and his proud anger turned to dismay.
    "I didn't know," he said.
    "Yes, you knew." The Elder's voice was gently reproving. "You're familiar with the words of the Legend. The Legend tells us that our strength is the strength of a wounded warrior, and victory makes us weak."
    "I thought..."
    "You thought that was just a story."
    "But Elder—the Nomana! No one can beat a Noble Warrior! The Nomana are trained—they have such powers—they can do anything!"
    "Not anything, boy. But we can do something. And the little we can do, that we must do, so that others will know good men too can be strong."
    "Yes, Elder."
    "And we won't let our enemies destroy us if we can help it, will we?"
    "No, Elder."
    "So this is all we know so far. A weapon is being built in Radiance, a weapon of such explosive power that it could sweep this entire island away like a mound of dust. We don't know what form this weapon takes or where it's being made. But we do know that our enemies will be looking for ways to bring it onto the island. If they succeed—" He raised both hands and opened his bright little eyes wide and smiled. "Then it's all over."
    "And my brother has something to do with this?"
    Even as he said it, it seemed absurd.
    "Your brother is no longer a danger to us."
    Seeker hung his head, in confusion and grief.
    "Can I trust you, Seeker after Truth?"
    "Yes, Elder."
    "Then this is how you can help us in these dangerous times. Go home and comfort your parents. They already know Blaze is to be cast out. Say nothing of all you have seen and heard today in the Nom. Look at me, boy."
    Seeker looked. The Elder's eyes held his and reached deep. Seeker looked back, unable to withdraw his own eyes from that penetrating gaze. Then he in his turn looked properly, looked to see how far he could reach. For a few moments, he saw nothing. Then he gave a gasp and