The Budding Metalinguist

XXIII

Brandon came abruptly around the corner and swung into the booth opposite Lillian. "All right," he confirmed. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Daria is upset," Lillian explained bluntly.

"That much I know," Brandon sighed, leaning his arms against the table. "Did you hear why?"

Lillian indicated that she did know why, but would prefer if he explained.

"Daria thinks that I was hiding in the math building to meet someone else."

"It was a friend of mine from physics," Lillian blurted.

"What?" Brandon asked sharply.

"A friend of mine from physics was using the reading room to practice thaumaturgy." Lillian decided to use this vaguely plausible excuse; she felt guilty for causing problems for Daria and Brandon.

"Then why is Daria so convinced that it was me?" Brandon responded in confusion.

Lillian sighed. "I'm not saying who it was. She told me not to. She said it was very embarrassing."

"Why did it seem like it was me though?"

"I can understand it," Lillian said thoughtfully. "Everyone says her efficacy is around thirty-eight, which is just about yours. And that day..." Lillian tried to look as awkward as possible.

"What?" Brandon pressed.

"I let her borrow my shoes," Lillian responded, a convincing, illusion-induced flush creeping up her cheeks.

Brandon stared. "Why would you let someone borrow your shoes?"

"I kept saying they were comfortable and she asked if she could try them. We're the same size," Lillian excused quickly.

Brandon narrowed his eyes. "Why are you telling me and not Daria?"

Lillian looked away. "I'd feel awkward telling her."

Brandon stood up and swung back around into the hallway which headed to the Gamma Ray Café's kitchen. "I'll tell her then," he called over his shoulder.

Lillian nodded, and let the lie coil its way into the pit of her stomach.

❧☙

Dakota accepted Ashley's hospitality, leaning back in the wide chair she provided. She didn't bother to get him any food, since neither of them were hungry.

"I had another dream last night," Dakota began.

"Obviously," Ashley cut in.

"We were making the knot," he explained.

"Oh, the one that killed the Guardian?" Ashley said offhandedly, and Dakota gave a start.

"Yes. That one. I keep forgetting."

Ashley laughed mirthlessly. "Probably better to forget."

Dakota ignored the typically cryptic comment and continued with his train of thought. "Who rescued me?"

Ashley cocked her head.

"When I was in prison, someone rescued me. Someone opened the cell and took me out and made the knot with me. A metalinguist."

"I always assumed you just rescued yourself," Ashley said slowly.

"You don't know?" Dakota responded in disbelief.

"No," Ashley responded, baffled. "I know it wasn't one of us. None of us were even there."

"Who was it if it wasn't one of you? I always assumed it was."