Naim 1, 4633 AIA

Ajaë and I haven't discussed the Codex before. Until yesterday morning, I didn't think I'd ever mention it to anyone again. I was lucky the journal wanted to publish the article, but it was a long time before we met, and as much as xe's thrilled to see me succeed, xe's sometimes hazy on the details.

Shinika wears a skeptical mask all through my explanation of who Ajaë is and what xe does. It goes to the very heart of how all our slates work, how we can do so much in such a dangerous environment.

Ajaë is one of the true wizards of our world, and I don't pretend to understand how xe does it. Xir head is mostly packed full of the complex mathematical code underpinning it all, how different materials hold kata differently, and how this can be turned to our use to create a stable matrix for us all to live in.

Naraik sends a message up, but for once, I want out. The more time we spend close to the Codex, the sicker I feel. I try not to think about that as I suggest we go up and see Ajaë in person.

I'm a spark of nerves, dry mouth and tight fists on the way up to visit Ajaë. I run all the ways I could explain what we need of xem through my head in the elevator with Naraik and Shinika, who while their time away discussing who's going to be elected to First High Watcher next month.

A tiny bit of breathing space to consider the problem as the elevator hums around us. I wonder if Naraik thinks this is all just a vicious migraine, and now I'm wondering if I've either delusional or need a lie down for a month or two.

My problem is, from what I've translated of the Codex—not all of it, and not reliably—Tallat doesn't present a guide to activating the Codex. The higher we go, the deeper the sinking feeling that I've overstated my case. Tishca Nashima is, by all accounts, the greatest Ishca-Nashim to ever Serve. Do I really think xe's wrong and I'm right?

We work with kata every day. It's the essence of our matrix, the slate. It might come tearing loose and wild from the Gap every time the wound in reality re-opens, but stable kata, that's controlled and managed, didn't exist when Tallat made xir Bone Moth. And it's not the same as my slate, either.

What Tallat describes isn't a slate she kept in her pocket. It's the whole of who she was. I try to think of the hardest questions Tishca might ask, but anxiety is making me stupid, and I can only imagine standing in front of our most revered Servant and gawping like a landed fish.

Ajaë's space isn't far from our apartment, set in a wide open space where everything is softly curved, the seam of the rock walls is a gentle reddish brown, and the view of the canyon is unfettered. By the time we arrive, the sun is punishing the earth from high noon and the canyon is deliriously bright.

Ajaë sits on a matted floor surrounded by slates of every conceivable size. Xe's a collector; xe doesn't need these for work, but has a fascination with mending the broken, or at least sparking it to new and useful life. And while the stores are gloomy and mostly uninhabited, here is as brimming with life as the Guardians' own corridors.

Two of Ajaë's team are tackling a problem expressed in complex maths on a large slate suspended between them on a frame similar to the one I use to study the Codex. Three of them move shimmering objects around in what looks like a kata representation of a child's puzzle, exchanging ideas and then writing numbers into their own private slates by their feet.

I pause at the threshold. Only now it hits me that this is going to worry Ajaë. And that's the last thing I want. How am I going to explain what's happened to me? What has happened to me?

Xe bounces up as Naraik leads us all into the space. Both Ajaë's colleagues straighten a little at the sight of Shinika. Even without their uniforms, Servants are somehow always the gravitational centre of every space they enter. Ajaë has that panicked expression I recognise as the one xe puts on whenever I'm very unwell.

"We need your help!" I blurt as Naraik starts to explain in more measured tones. Ajaë guides us over to a quiet, private space in a corner with even more of a view across the canyon, where I can sit down. I don't realise until xe sets a chair beneath me.

Shinika takes over and explains what's going on. Seems they know each other already—"This is our top slate wizard," Shinika explains in a bright aside.

When Shinika gets to the bit about the Codex, that's when xe hands over to me. "This is the bit I don't understand."

Ajaë pulls out xir slate and starts to take notes as I start to describe why I think this is so serious. "I know they keep saying there's no way this would work, but I know this amulet could be reactivated if it got to the wrong people."

"And that's what you're worried about?" Ajaë nods. "It sounds like it works like a slate? So it would need to be either an Amnari or inside an Exclusion Zone to work at all."

"I don't know. When Tallat made it, there were no Exclusion Zones." I wish xe'd read my paper, all my notes. I want to unlock the inside of my brain and hand it over. He's not following. Xe wants to agree, wants to do whatever he can to help, but I'm losing xem.

But I can't tell xem this might be making me ill. If it's making me ill, there's no way xe'll be okay with me chasing the thing down out there.

"Can I go back over this again. All of this, from the beginning." Ajaë sits back. "There've been a number of thefts from the archaeological digs to the north of the Nas Ashca. Now, somebody has ambushed the shipment of items we were bringing back. You—" Xe points xir stylus at me; "—identified the Bone Moth as something they might have been after. Or, at any rate, it was in the shipment that was stolen."

We all nod.

"And now, I suppose we've got to be worried about this thing being out there, even if it can't be activated now, we don't know what's going to happen in the future."

More nodding. This is making me dizzy.

"But Tishca doesn't think it's necessary to worry about it, or even get it back."

"And we need to prove that it could be activated in the future." Sticky with sweat, I finish for xem.

Ajaë doesn't answer me right away. In the silence, I study xir face, as if I can read xir thoughts in the shifting of xir muscles. Not a chance.

Xir brow furrows, just a little. "You've never told me about this before. But you know about this thing?"

Ajaë can read me far better than I can xem. 

"It was my graduation project. I haven't thought about it in years." And now it's creeping up the back of my spine, fluttering in the occipital bones at the base of my skull.

"All right." Ajaë pats me on the knee. "How d'you know this happened? What system did they use to activate the kata embedded in the bone? This was before the Gaps opened?"

I shake my head. Xe's getting it, curiosity overcoming xir natural caution. "After. It had to be after. The notebooks include references to the Rending already having happened, and Tallat was on the run. This was a last ditch effort to preserve what she knew."

Ajaë rubs a tightened brow. "This is tricky. It's possible, I think. But if it works like a slate, then it couldn't be activated by anybody other than the original user. Tallat's dead, so this—what did you say it was? An amulet—it would be functionally useless, especially out beyond the Exclusion Zones. About as useful as a slate would be to any non-Amnari out there."

Xe waves a hand, indicating some vague reality beyond the barrier. I wriggle in my seat. I know this is critical, I know there's something else. But I still don't want to worry Ajaë. Xe doesn't need anything else on xir mind beyond the space I already occupy.

I realise I'm staring at xem, trying to push my will, my hunch, into xir being. I can't explain why I know we have to do this, why it's so important, up against the logic of a person who has worked with material kata in this way all xir life.

But we have to. We have to do this.

This is like my thesis defence exam. Sitting in front of a panel of unconvinced elder specialists, all of them sure there was nothing useful to be gained by going over this ragged notebook that'd already been determined to be a likely fake.

I had to do it then.

<What's going on? You all right?> This message Ajaë sends directly, without even blinking, straight into the back of my head. <Is this why you were sick this morning?>

Will this help? Will this persuade xem, or just make xem worry more. <Yes. I don't know why, but I think it's important.>

Ajaë stares at me another blink, then turns back to Shinika.

"I can't tell Tishca I think it's dangerous," xe says. "I don't really have justification for that. But we should definitely get it, if we can fund a trip out there. It might tell us something about how to close the Gaps again. And that's useful, right?"

"You know, you should rest." Naraik tells me this on the way back down. Ajaë has agreed to meet with Tishca and Shinika, and then insisted Naraik take me home to lie down. "I don't want to lay down the Watcher law here, but you should save your energy, if you want to go travelling beyond the Barrier."

I cling to the seat on the other side of the elevator. Xe's right, but I'm torn. "I should go back down to the stores." It's like something speaking through me. The rest of me would like to go lie down in a dark room. My head's throbbing again. Nausea rocks my stomach.

"No, you really shouldn't." Naraik's tone is gentle, but there's an edge behind it. "You're pale and I don't have to check my slate to know your heart rate has no business being that high."

I raise a hand to protest, but it trembles as if I'm pulling up a whole dragon with it. I let Naraik pilot me back to the apartment. It's still early enough that the sun hasn't crawled much further inside than the terrace. It's cool; a soft, sand-scented breeze tugs at the muslin curtains.

Even as my body allows Naraik to guide it into the bedroom, to the soothing darkness and oblivion of Watcher-administered pain relief, that scratching at the back of my head persists. Even lying on my back and shutting my eyes against the slivers of light sneaking their way in, it flutters.

I should go downstairs. It'll help Ajaë, if I can go through the rest of the notebook. Find the proof xe needs.

Naraik settles xirself on soft cushions in the corner, tapping at xir slate. Even this tiny sound bangs in the shadows. I try to shut it out, but now I hear it, I can't unhear. It beats like a drum, insistent and brutal.

Then, abruptly, it stops.

And all there is there is the moth.