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thistle and dermot brave the trials
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Mal notices it before she does, when the second years come back- he doesn't signal her, but Lori can read that he wants her to try to read minds in that direction-

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Lori turns and hones in-

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-they're not even close to figuring it out yet- he looks incandescently beautiful in that light-

"Zev, baby, move over here."

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-the meat is too stringy, but the decadent atmosphere of their banquet pantomime is essential when it comes to intimidating the first-years- someone is reading her mind. Get out, you limpid cock before I tear your mind to shreds.

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"Your friend Margo just called me a 'limpid cock'," Lori giggles to Quentin.

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-he cracks a smile. Of course she did. That's Margo.

"That's Margo."

If- Quentin's thoughts become muddier, as colorful Play-Do starts to cover them up. Apparently he's remembered to put up his rainbow bridge.

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"They're so close but they keep moving. I can't get a bead on them."

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"Margo was thinking about somewhere with light...and then there was something about a pantomime banquet." Lori taps her lip. "Can you smell any food anywhere, Mal?"

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Sniff, sniff, sniff.

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Okay he's getting pretty sick of this shit. When are they actually going to do something-

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"Oh, wait, they can't have taken us off school grounds, right? That's probably like, against the charter or something."

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“Anywhere else they would risk detection, so it has to be school grounds!” She squeezes Quentin’s shoulder, proud of him. 

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Mal's head shoots up as he tries to pinpoint the source; he's entered into a quadrapedal position again. Still nothing conclusive enough for him to say anything, apparently.

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"If we're on campus, whatever they want us to do can't be far. There's not enough room to hide anything big. We're looking for clues- it's probably some kind of puzzle."

His mind races as he thinks back to the riddles and puzzles in the Fillory series. Quentin turns them over in his mind, rainbow bridge abandoned as he focuses his attention on this. Leaves...branches...squirrels...it could be about finding the right path, like when the Lorians crossed the Silver Snake in book 3...

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"Crossing snakes, and finding squirrels, huh? We've found our squirrels, we just need to stop them...moving." 

Lori casts the net of her mind out gently, trying to dodge around Margo's mind-shredding.

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Margo is intelligent, canny, adaptable, and stubborn- she has more control in her little finger to construct a defense than a first year-

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-but Lori's powers are rare, and Margo has one significant weak point. He's being adorable, too.

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He’s posturing around the table flinging his arms up and pretending to deliver a great speech, winking at Margo.

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Lori can feel that there’s a small ache in him though, and it looks like Quentin’s furious face. 

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Small aches don't rise to her attention, not when there's more immediate concerns, like their game. Margo files it away, to ask about if the tally of concerning hallmarks of trauma and stress becomes too high.

There's no question about whether she can read Zev- the question is what to do about it, and the answer is usually-

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"You're a drama queen, Zev, but you're right. We are glorious. Those first years aren't going to make it out alive."

A reminder, though a gentle one, not to get attached yet. He always attaches too easily. It'll be the death of them.

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Zev leans over their incredible, fantastical spread and kisses Margo's cheek.

"So worried about me! People will talk, Bambi."

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"If  people talk, I can call them the peeping fuckers they are.

Besides, when have you ever wanted to be anything but the talk of the town?"

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There's a moment where Zevran's thoughts are utterly consumed by how he was once talk of the town-

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