Zam listens carefully, gradually putting the story together. It sounds like the man is—was some sort of investigator and that things had gone south when he'd tried to infiltrate this King in Yellow's cult. Still, something doesn't add up. Namely: he's a blind man who, as he's currently demonstrating, can't even fight his way out of a wet robe. What business does he have taking on violent cultists?

"Here," Zam says impatiently, stepping forward to grab one corner of the garment so the man can wriggle out of it. "Before you hurt yourself." She's not the best helper here with only one arm but it's better than nothing. "I'm going to be honest with you," she continues. "It sounds like the only thing our situations have in common is that the last thing we both remember before this place was someone trying to kill us. So if you have a reason to suspect that this isn't the great hereafter, I'd love to hear it."

Really, she would. Convince her she's not dead. Please.