He opened his eyes. The center of his vision was a purple night sky punctuated by angry red stars. Are those stars making that noise? Nom wondered. He heard far away chinks and clunks that almost seemed timed with twinkles and streaks in the sky. Around it all, a black blur slowly resolved into a rocky doorway edged with wood beams, and a big yellowish lump. As the cold of desert night seeped in to sting his already aching muscles, he focused on the lump. He'd had little luck with big lumps, thinking back to the Dragon's Blood, so he laid still. No, this lump had a smaller hairy lump on top, and the yellow wasn't gooey. It looked to be smeared over with thick black dust, was actually fabric, with a yellow pattern of—a sun.

Nom scrambled back in a panic, knocking into another soft lump.

"Hey, knock it off," whispered the soft lump, "I'm trying to sleep." It was a man, curled up in a ball, eyes closed. Nom looked to the doorway again, and the stars illuminated the edge of a familiar face looking back at him over its shoulder.

"So, you decided to wake up rather than die," said the Guild commander. "Not sure that was the best choice." He sat near the doorway, leaning against the wall of a raw, rocky corridor. Nom glanced around for an escape. The doorway was big, but the commander could easily stop him. Behind Nom, the corridor continued, disappearing quickly into impenetrable black shadow. Dark huddled masses lined both walls, people trying to sleep.

"Easy," the commander said, "I told you before, I have no quarrel with you." The man looked out at the stars. "Only the Hollow."

Nom tried to sit up, and groaned. He felt like he had fallen off a two story building, repeatedly. Ironically the only part that didn't hurt much was the half of his face that Ahden had punched. "My friends," Nom demanded urgently, "the girl in white, what did you do to them?"

"I'm not in a position to do anything here," he answered. He showed Nom his open hands, then pulled back his tattered cloak to reveal that he had no weapons or armor. Nom looked at him doubtfully. "I don't know where your friends are," the commander added, before gazing back outside. "They dropped you unconscious outside here, alone."

"Are we in Zulm?" Nom asked.

"Is that what they call it?" the commander wondered. "We're in an old mine tunnel. Might as well call it home."

"We're prisoners?" Nom surmised.

"We're free to roam, play, shout, even kill each other or walk away into the desert and die, as long as we stay away from restricted areas and collectively mine enough for the day."

"If you don't?"

"The former, a beating. The latter, they don't feed us. Here, bread." the commander tore a small loaf and tossed half to Nom. "Who am I breaking bread with?"

"Call me Nōm."

"Pulvis Adustio, Commander in the Guild of the Sun."

Nom started eating. "Ok, Dusti, why are you here?"

"Adustio, please. Or Commander." He took a deep breath. "We came here to contain the girl—"

"Her name is Omega," Nom interjected.

"As you say. We tracked you, as I said I would, to the coastal town, Alara." A look of embarrassment flashed for a split second across Adustio's face. "However I had not anticipated you would be caught by a wagon train of slavers with horses in the middle of the Hollow."

"Right..." said Nom, mentally thanking Solus, "the wagons."

"In my haste to catch up, we neglected our clarity, and were surprised by the seers. That blackguard Khargis made short work of half my company, and we had to surrender." That was presumably the end of the story, as Adustio resumed his vigil, looking outside.

"You said I was dumped outside?" Nom asked.

"When I recognized you, I dragged you back here into the tunnel. I had to give up some standing among the other slaves here to get you a sleeping spot out of the open air." Adustio glanced back at him, almost with contempt, for but a moment. "You are still my best lead to find your seer—Omega."

"Oh, c'mon Dusti, that's absurd at this point," Nom opined, but Adustio continued staring outside. "Hey, what are you looking at out there, anyway?"

"You may not believe this, but you are not always the most important thing on my mind. Sometimes the needs of the vulnerable around us take precedence over chasing old men that hang out with villains."

Nom rolled his eyes, "The needs of who, exactly."

"There is a small child out there," said the commander. "I've called to her several times to come in, but she does not turn around. She may be scared, or in shock."

If there was any color left in Nom's face, it surely drained. "Adustio, how many children have you seen in the Hollow?" It would be fortuitous if the Commander had seen others, possibly the lost children from Alara, but Nom doubted it.

Adustio turned his head slightly back to Nom.

"Clarity, Commander," Nom urged.

Adustio grunted, sat up straight, and tented his forefingers. He sat still for a full minute before relaxing. "So, a revenant. Yours?" Nom did not answer. Adustio nodded once. "You've saved me from some grief. My remaining troops gave me grief for taking you in here. Consider us even once again."

Nom scoffed, stood up, and stepped to the doorway.

Adustio caught the fabric of his robes, and asked, incredulous, "You go to help her anyway?"

"If by her, you mean Omega, yes. Don't bother coming," Nom said, then stepped out. He saw in dismay that more people huddled outside the tunnel, trying to keep warm while sleeping. He wrapped his cloaks around himself tighter, and tried not to disturb anyone as he stepped through. He turned and walked along the rock wall outside the tunnel, keeping his gaze down. He thought he heard footsteps behind him, but it blended with all the tapping and clinking he clearly heard. He hurried his step, going almost blindly, feeling with his hand along the wall as his emotions built up. He finally stopped, panting in panic, and the footsteps stopped too.

"It's gone," Adustio said from closeby. Nom let out a long trembling breath. "I watched you from the doorway for a moment, and when I looked back it was gone," the Commander added. "Unusual for it to go so easily, but then again, it should not have been here."

Nom looked back and saw Adustio standing firmly, beyond him only the sleeping masses huddled by the tunnel entrance. The girl was gone. Nom nodded, calmed enough to look around further. They were high up in a huge, dug out part of the badlands, a strip mine. Up on the rim in some places torches and lanterns glowed. Far below, flashes and glints of the meager torchlight and starlight reflected off pickaxes and shovels as people swung them to create the clattering din he had heard.

"Ideally, they should not be anywhere" Nom said.

Adustio nodded agreement. "My thoughts, and the Guild's. You may find more in common with us than you think."

Nom lightly shook his head.

Adustio continued, "But the darklight here is weak. A revenant should not manifest."

"Weak?" That surprised Nom greatly. "Do you know why?"

"My remaining company has spotted warding, all around." Adustio pointed along the rim. "We think it keeps the darklight at bay, for the most part."

"Astonishing," Nom said.

"Troubling," Adustio said, "that much darklight wielded here." He continued his visual tour. "Barracks up there, with a concentration of soldiers. They tried to recruit my company, unsuccessfully; we will not be servants of any seer. Lackadaisical guards, widely spaced around the perimeter. The seers, maybe, are in those buildings, there. And the food comes from over there. You can see for yourself where the mining takes place and the kalabursi sleep. Beyond that, I do not know what lies."

"Kalabursi," said Nom. "They call you that?"

"Yes. I don't know why. The guards call us that like an epithet."

"It didn't used to be. Badger was an affectionate name for the miners here, long ago."

"Nōm," Adustio regarded him for a few seconds, "who were you, here?"

"Here, Rabidi, all of Mamidi Daruni, I was simply a worker, a soldier, a scholar, a—whatever I had to be at the time. I suppose not much has changed. Now, please leave me alone," said Nom.

"No one has been to Rabidi, Nōm," said Adustio. "Don't be fooled by the Hollow. Don't be a servant of its twisted fate. You can choose to fight back against it. You can choose who to be, Nōm. The Guild can help you find your true path, if only you help us. Help us find her, and we'll treat Omega well if she—"

"Help you?!" Nom stood and angrily poked Adustio in the chest. "Just because you get together with some bloodthirsty friends, and paint yellow circles and triangles on your chest, doesn't mean you know what's really going on here! You're no different than any other seerhunter, hunting the victims and calling them the perpetrators."

Adustio shook his head humbly. "I'm sorry she's deluded you so deeply," he said.

Nom threw up his hands and stomped around. "You should be helping us!" he yelled. "We're trying to find the actual problem, and you have skills that can fight darklight. You could teach that to others—"

"We do," Adustio said calmly.

"—but you can't—you won't let yourself be taught. Seers are not causing the pain of the Hollow, Dusti—"

"Adustio."

"—seers like Omega are suffering that pain more than anyone else."

"Even than you?"

"If I could take on that pain for her, I would. What's one more pain, to an old bumbler like me? She could have left the Hollow and been normal, but choose to come here and fight. I'm helping her because she still has a chance to live better than I did."

"No," stated Adustio, "she does not."

The two men stared at one another until Nom threw up his hands again and stormed off. "Don't follow me," he shouted without looking back.

Nom gravitated toward the Kalbursi working far down in the pit. The noise grew as he approached, and distinctly became the rhythm of metal picks on rock, punctuated with shouts of admonishment, and cries of pain. He hurried forward, and saw large men walking the lines of miners, beating those who slacked on their work. Adustio had said there were no guards down here, and Nom was shocked when he was close enough in the dim starlight to realise slaves were beating slaves.

"Hey," Nom shouted, "Knock it off!" All the activity stopped, and the large men looked critically at him.

"He has no weapons or goggles," one said to the others.

"Then what is he?" said another.

"Farmer?" said a third

"They don't come down here," said the second.

"Neither does anyone else," said the first man, and advanced toward Nom. Nom backpedaled, but the man broke into a trot and grabbed him by the shoulder. "Get to work, kalabursi," the brute yelled and threw him toward the pick line. The other slaves started their work again, and the brute kicked Nom in the rear, sending him sprawling onto the rocks. "Use your hands if you have to."

"The wagon's back, Petra," one of the large slaves told the brute.

"Get up then!" The man kicked Nom in the side. "Grab a pick from the wagon."

A stern voice called, walking toward them from the direction of the hand-wagon, "Touch him again, Petra, and you'll be digging with broken hands."

The brute huffed, and resumed walking the pick line.

"Ahden?" Nom said. His friend's large hand lowered in front of his face, and Nom clasped it to help himself up. Ahden's face was bruised and an eye was swollen, though starting to heal. His armor was gone, and he was scraped and roughly bandaged all over. "Well for once lad," Nom said, "you look as battered as I feel."

Ahden smiled with a wince. "We missed you too, Nōm." Nom looked over and saw Dev by the wagon, helping load ore into it.

"Only you two?" Nom asked.

"You make four," said Ahden. "We found Omuti bringing food from the farm."

"Omega?"

Ahden shook his head. "I think she's with the seers, but I can't get in there. I've tried many times, and paid the price. Dev's making me rest."

"This is resting?"

Ahden shrugged. "It beats a beating from the soldiers and seers. Plus I can keep men like Petra from taking advantage. Rather than working hard themselves, they drive the other kalabursi to meet quota. Occasionally one of them is sadistic enough to be recruited by the guards. Where have you been Nōm? We've been looking for days."

"Days?" Nom said. "I just woke up, in a mine shaft back there." He thumbed over his shoulder.

"Oh," said Ahden. "One of the other pick lines?"

Nom shook his head, confused. "No. The last thing I remember is the ship, and—and the Chosen." Where had he been for days?

Ahden's face turned crestfallen. "I'm sorry I couldn't stop him, for all our sakes."

Nom touched his shoulder. "No one could have," he said. "We'll find her, lad." He gave Ahden a couple pats, then held him out at arms length and looked up into his beaten face. "Now, chin up. Let's get to work."