Word and Breath by Susannah Noel

it. But I promise I won’t take anything except the most intense of your momentary worries.” Then, as if she’d just processed something, she wrinkled her forehead and added, “You said you’d never met a Soul-Breather before?”

    “No. Never. Why do you ask?”

    Tava shook her head. “It’s nothing. It just felt like… It’s nothing. Shall I try again?”

    Riana nodded, steeled up her courage, and lifted her hand to Tava again.

    This time, the rush of feeling wasn’t as frightening. In fact, despite its intensity, it was almost a relief. She could almost see her anxieties spilling down a drain.
     
    Then, before she could process what was happening, her mind and body had relaxed.

    And she fell asleep on the couch.
    ***
    A few hours later, Riana and Tava were drinking coffee in the kitchen when Jenson came over.

    Riana had slept better than she’d expected, and she’d woken up rested.

    Only to feel the horrible press of reality a few seconds later, as she remembered everything that had happened. That her sister was gone.
     
    For a few minutes, her emotions had gotten the best of her, but she’d pulled herself together before Tava had come into the room and offered her a mug of coffee.

    Jenson must have good news. Riana could see it on his face as soon as Tava let him in. She also noticed the special smile Tava gave him and wanted to both laugh and shake Jenson as he appeared completely oblivious of it.
     
    He was fully focused on Riana. He pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and waved it at her.

    “We have a possible lead. One of our informants replied to our communications and has some information that might be helpful.”

    “What is it?” Riana asked, her throat lurching in hope and expectation. “Do you know where she is?” She reached out to take the piece of paper and peer at it closely.

    It was just a typed page with ragged edges—it looked like it had been torn out of an archaic instructional manual.

    “The communication just sets up the meeting,” Jenson explained, taking the coffee Tava handed him. “Lunch today at the café in Canning Square.”

    “Who’s the informant?” For the first time since she returned from work yesterday, Riana actually felt like maybe the situation wasn’t hopeless. She’d never imagined the Front’s network would be so efficient and wide-ranging.

    Jenson leaned against the cabinet, looking cool and casual in the trendy kitchen. “She’s a receptionist for Union Administrative Services. She’s given us good information before. This is good news for us.”

    Riana shifted from foot to foot, feeling suddenly self-conscious and slightly uncomfortable. She was still dressed in Tava’s pajama’s—too long and a little snug—and her hair was still in the messy braids from yesterday. But her appearance wasn’t what had bothered her.
     
    She was self-conscious at the way Jenson had said “us” instead of “you.” She wasn’t used to people grouping themselves together with her. Even though these people were helping her, she had a hard time recognizing that the connection was mutual.

    “So what time do we meet her?” she asked, putting her mug on the kitchen table and wiping her palms on the cotton pajama pants.
     
    Jenson made a face.

    “Oh no.” Riana stepped over and got right in his face. “You’re not going to tell me to stay here. She’s my sister.”

    “It would be safer if you stay here,” Tava said softly.

    “I don’t care. You can’t expect me to twiddle my thumbs while everyone else does everything for me. I’ll do whatever you say in order to stay safe, but I’m not staying here.” She gave Jenson as fierce a glare as she could muster.

    Jenson just chuckled. “I didn’t think you’d be willing to stay put, but it was worth a try. We’ll meet her at noon. I’ll swing by to pick you up at 11:30ish so we can get there early.”

    He finished off his coffee and set the mug in the sink. Then he