Our Greatest Dane
“All right,” Liko said. “Twenty-two letters into six words. Let’s do this.”
“Start with—”
“No, no, let me do it myself.”
“Have at it.” Dane opened a book and put his feet up.
Twenty minutes passed.
“Goddammit,” Liko said, “give me a hint.”
Dane shifted the book to one hand and unzipped his shorts with the other.
“You know, I’m feeling a little objectified while on this quest.”
Laughing, Dane zipped again and set the book aside. “Me trying to give hints will be torture. I’ll do the first four words, you take the rest. We’re a team, right?”
“Yeah.”
“They say there’s no I in team.” He started moving letters. “But in our case…”
When he was done, the first four words were Know I in our.
“Holy hell,” Liko said. “I’d never get that on my own. How long did it take you and Nomi to solve?”
“Dude, it was so bad. For real, we were a pair of idiots working it out with our Scrabble tiles.”
“I feel better knowing even you insiders were struggling. Okay, this eight-letter word is gonna be a bitch.”
“Eight rhymes with…?”
“Hate? Plate. Which clues are served on.”
Dane raised eyebrows and pointed at himself.
“Well, I know it’s not straight,” Liko said slowly. “Fate? Wait…”
“I’m rethinking this entire relationship now.”
“Great,” Liko cried. “Oh my God. Duh.”
Dane made a backhanded swat against Liko’s arm. “Dipshit.”
Liko moved the five letters to spell great. Then he made a superlative quantum leap and added E, S and T. Not great but greatest.
“This last part killed me,” Dane said softly.
Obviously the remaining four letters spelled Dane, but the space waiting for them had five letters.
“Know I in our greatest Dane,” Liko said. “No, no, don’t tell me. Let me do it…”
His eyes flicked left to right and back again, looking for it. The part that killed Dane. It was right at the edge of his mind. He knew he was looking right at it, but he wasn’t seeing it. He always missed the obvious.
“Know I in our…”
Then he saw it.
Two homophones.
Know and no.
I and…
He looked sharply at Dane, who had his hands steepled around his mouth and nose. Over his fingertips, one blue eye and one brown eye looked back at Liko.
“No eye,” Liko said, tracing one of Dane’s brows. “No eye in our greatest Dane. But there is. Both eye and… Put an I in Dane and you get Diane. Wait…”
He clicked over to the Green Man, with his brown-and-blue gaze. A strange and incredulous trepidation made the hair on Liko’s nape stir. He felt exactly as he did when he watched Kyle drop the hare into the fire, all those months ago. Doing something beneath his dignity. Deigning.
Kyle’s presence stirred over Liko’s shoulder now, leaning close, awed and astounded. Hell, yeah, Dad. This is sick. Do it. Don’t wait. Do it now.
Liko clicked the Green Man’s blue eye.
It came free in the cursor and went into his cache.
“You got it,” Dane said under his hands.
“Holy shit,” Liko said. He returned to the letter slots. He left the D where it was, skipped a slot, and moved the A-N-E to the end.
“I love this,” he said under his breath. “Oh my God, I fucking love this.”
“Same,” Dane whispered.
Liko took the blue eye out of his cache and put it in place.
An eye for an I.
The remaining letters of the inscription lit up but Liko barely noticed. He reached an arm and drew Dane close. Wrapped the other around and pulled Dane against his heart. Reading the words over and over.
Know I in our greatest D(i)ane.
“Unbelievable,” he murmured. Marveling at the time and the effort and the creativity that went into this entire chamber.
The hours to forward engineer and reverse engineer all the clues and solutions, all the causes and effects.
And to make it all mean something to only two people.
The only two people that mattered. Because three was a magic number.
And love is an artist.
“It’s amazing,” Liko said, holding Dane harder. “Oh my God, man, what a…”
He trailed off. He had no word for what it was.
A love letter, he thought, open-mouthed and staring, half laughing around a lump in his throat.
Love letters.
Letters of love.