Mallory was sitting at a table, writing in her notebook when the rest of the party returned, joining her.
“What are you doing?” Danae leaned closer to peer at the page.
“Keeping track of our days.”
“That’s a strange way of doing it. Why don’t you write the date?” Danae asked.
“The date.” Mallory stared at Danae.
“Yes, the date.” Danae nodded. “It’s the sixth day of the second month of the year five hundred and fourteen.”
“Inadon is only five hundred and fourteen years old?” Callum asked.
Danae shook her head. “That’s how long people have been keeping track of time. When things became more civilised on Inadon.”
“I hate to think what they were like before,” Callum said.
“Bad. Really bad if the old stories are true,” Danae said.
Mallory wrote the date at the top of her diary entry.
