Sect Year 6 · fifth month to twelfth month · the Reaches, the reading hall, and the Reserve’s edge
Pei made the first mark on the dry rim of the gauge basin the morning after the water. She used a stick she had burnt in the reading-hall lamp, and the mark was a black stroke, thick at the top where the soot had pressed hardest. It smudged when she tested it with her thumb. She tested it twice. Then she made another the next morning, and another after that, and by the end of the month the rim was black with them.
“What’s it for?” Lin asked.
“Days.”
“Days of what?”
“Of nothing happening.” She stood back to look at the row. “Somebody ought to keep a count of that. Otherwise it’s only nothing, and nobody writes nothing down.”
“You keep it in your book already.”
“In pencil. This one’s for the basin.” She put the stick in her sleeve. “Let the wind have the book, then. The basin will still have the count.”
