"Thanks for the...uh..."
Palindrome waves in an absent fashion at Tander.
"Um..."
"AH HAH!"
Palindrome rips Yarg's notes out of his vest pocket. He rifles through the pages.
"Yes!"
"Behold!"
In triumph, he presents the following to his companions:
Myself and Liras were once thick as thieves, earning many a tongue lashing from the "Lady" Arga, but despite our long standing friendship I can no longer trust him in these matters. Despite maintaining our unusual communication method, with his last message being triggered by a memorable admixture of honeysuckle, purple, and that odd scent Finidarr used to emit during lectures, it may be that our discourse has been compromised - perhaps he himself has betrayed our efforts.
"This may be our key to the hidden text at the bottom of the Screamer. I conjure that it is a code, broken by the casting of prestidigitation."
Palindrome picks up the Screamer.
"Let me see," he mutters, tongue stuck slightly out of his mouth.
He casts prestidigitation on the paper, mixing honeysuckle, purple, and...at his best guess...body odour.
He hops from one foot to the other, studying the response of the paper.