Word and Breath (Wordless Chronicles)

by Susannah Noel

  Her smile broadening, Tava gave a warm chuckle. “Well, there might be an interest there.”

  Riana smiled back, feeling a sudden sense of kinship with the other woman—no matter how different they were in background and nature.

  “So is there someone else? Who you are interested in? Maybe the unspecified male who called you early and whose call you left the room to take?”

  Riana reddened slightly. Mikel had called when she and Jenson had gone back to the loft to meet Tava. He’d asked around about whether anyone had seen anything suspicious. He hadn’t gotten any information, he said, but he’d keep looking into it.

  Just hearing his voice had been comforting. He’d sounded concerned about her and asked whether she had a safe place to stay. Riana had to force herself not to tell him where she was or who was helping her.

  Irrationally, she wanted to tell him everything, but it wasn’t her secret to share. Despite her growing attachment to him and her sense of knowing him deeply, he’d still been a stranger just a week ago.

  She might act silly when she was around him, but she wasn’t fool enough to take that risk.

  “I guess that blush is a yes.” Tava didn’t pursue the matter. “One day, you’ll have to tell me about him.”

  One day, maybe Riana would.

  Just considering the possibility of sharing something so private with someone other than Jannie was completely new to Riana. It felt strange, but not bad or as scary as she would have thought.

  “Now if only I could get some sleep,” she said, her voice hoarse from fatigue and emotion.

  “I can help you with that if you want.” At Riana’s questioning look, Tava explained, “Despite the common assumptions, my gifts can be used in positive ways. I can help clear your mind of some of your anxiety. It won’t take it away but it will help you sleep.”

  Riana felt a little nervous but Tava looked hopeful. And she really did need to get some rest, if she was going to be any good to Jannie. Swallowing over her dry mouth, she said, “All right. I guess we can try it. What exactly will you do?”

  “Just touch you. Open a light connection. You’ll feel exactly what I’m doing. If you don’t like it, resist it and I’ll have to stop. If you don’t resist, it will help you sleep.”

  Tava got up and walked over to the couch, where she’d made up a temporary bed for Riana.

  Riana scooted down until her head was on the pillow, and she tried to adjust herself comfortably. “All right,” she said, staring up at Tava, “Just tell me what to do.”

  She was a little nervous but Tava didn’t seem to mind. The woman just reached out and took Riana’s hand.

  After a couple a seconds, Riana could feel the connection open up. There was a rush of sensation—as she felt her tumultuous emotions start to drain from her.

  She jerked away, startled and uncomfortable.

  Tava dropped her hand. “It’s a little odd when you first experience 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 stepped over and gave Tava a casual kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for the coffee.”

  Tava’s cheeks reddened, but Riana was pretty sure Jenson hadn’t noticed any sort of reaction.

  She followed him to the door of the apartment.

  “You’re going to work?” she asked, glancing over his striped tie and tweed jacket.

  “Where else?”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I’ve been thinking about it. If the Union suspects me, then they almost certainly suspect you too. I mean, you’re my only connection with the Front.”

  Jenson gave her a fond smile. “I’ve already considered that.”

  Annoyed by the feeling that he was condescending to her, Riana frowned and stiffened her spine. “I mean it, Jenson. If they kidnapped my sister, who knows what they’ll do to you?”

  “That’s the point. We don’t know what they’ll do or what they know. I need to go in or they’ll suspect me for sure. I’ll be careful. I promise.”

  “Jenson,” Riana persisted, reaching and touching his arm. “But what if—”

  “En
ough,” he snapped, momentarily losing his easy insouciance. “You’re just like—”

  When he cut himself off, Riana asked, “Just like who?”

  “Nothing.” He shook his head hard. “Never mind. We’ve got it covered, Riana. I’m not alone in this. And neither are you.” His expression changed—softened—as he reached out to flip one of her messy braids. “I’ve got to leave. When we go to lunch, get rid of these braids.”

  The shift in topic came so quickly Riana just blinked. “What? Why?”

  “They’re too distinctive. And wear sunglasses or something. I don’t think you need a real disguise, but there’s no sense in tempting fate.”

  To her surprise, he leaned down and gave her the same friendly kiss on the cheek he’d given Tava. “It’ll be all right. We’ll figure it out.”

  Before she could reply, he’d left the apartment, gently closing the door behind him.

  ***

  Captain Largan was having another bad day. The whole month had been a series of them. Now he was getting pressure from the President’s personal bodyguards to close down the entire downtown section of Newtown on the afternoon of the big speech.

  It was a nightmare. He was getting flack already from local businesses about the unavoidable disruption to their commerce. The traffic issues alone were enough to make him sick.

  Why he’d ever wanted to be the Director of Public Safety in a city as large as Newtown was beyond him.

  He just wanted to do something meaningful. Something that mattered. At one point, it had seemed like the higher a position he held, the more his work would matter.

  That wasn’t the case—it was becoming more and more clear. The restrictions and obligations of his job, as well as the politics involved, tied his hands so that he couldn’t do anything that was genuinely worthwhile.

  When his secretary buzzed him and told him who was waiting to see him, Largan groaned out loud.

  This could only mean his day was about to get even worse.

  There was no use in putting him off though. Face him now, or the confrontation would be worse. So Largan said, “Send him in.”

  Then he straightened up in his chair and tried to compose his face into a semblance of a welcoming expression.

  Mikel strode in, looking annoyingly handsome, polished, and stylish. He had a way of making Largan feel even more rumpled and pudgy than normal.

  Largan was the superior here, however, and he refused to reveal his feelings. “Have you finished your assignment?”

  He knew Mikel hadn’t. If he had, he would have simply filed the report—not made a personal visit.

  He only paid visits when he was angry about something.

  “How am I supposed to finish my assignment when I’m subverted at every turn?” Mikel demanded. There was no heat in his voice—his tone, as always, was clipped and cool.

  Not liking the way Mikel was looming over the desk, Largan stood up. He wasn’t quite as tall as the other man, but at least now he could look him in the eye. “In what ways have you been subverted?”

  “Why didn’t someone tell me you were sending a team to pick up Riana Cole’s sister last night? I was making good progress, but this might throw her back into paranoia. She might never trust me enough for me to do my job.”

  Largan studied the other man’s face, feeling a twinge of curiosity at the intensity of the black eyes. Then he said carefully, “I never sent a team to pick up the sister.”

  “Someone did. Whether you own to it or not, it comes out as the same thing. I should have been told.”

  “I’m sorry you feel uninformed.” That was saying little enough, Largan decided, while still making a gesture at conciliation. “Your role is isolated—as it has to be. I have every confidence you can still do what you need to do.”

  Mikel’s lips tightened into a sneer. “I won’t do it all if you try to dupe me. You know my terms. They’ve always been the same.”

  Largan felt a flash of urgency. It was very important the Union not lose Mikel as an asset. “Your terms will be met, and no one would be fool enough to try to dupe you.” In an attempt to shift the subject, he added, “So what progress have you made so far?”

  Mikel glanced over toward the window thoughtfully. “She’s guarded and cynical, so it’s taking longer than I expected. But I’ll get it done—assuming this new development hasn’t set me back indefinitely. She’s starting to trust me.”

  “Have you gotten any sense of her yet?”

  “She’s innocent. That much is obvious already.”

  Largan frowned, wishing that dealing with Soul-Breathers wasn’t always so frustrating. “What does that mean? I don’t care about her sexual experience, if that’s what you’re—”

  “It’s not.” Mikel’s tone was more biting than normal. “I’m telling you she’s innocent. She’s genuine. It was the first note I read from her. There’s no way an elaborate deception is a significant part of her life. I think you might be on the wrong track.”

  This conflicted so much with other information Largan had received from his own research that he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Mikel.

  “You don’t have to believe me,” Mikel said, obviously having interpreted his expression. “But you’re paying me for my skills. I’ll continue and try to extract some specific information. But you should be prepared for the possibility that she’s not a secret subversive or the ringleader of a rebellion.”

  That wasn’t what Largan thought of Riana Cole, and it wasn’t why he was now going to such lengths to find out what she knew and what her motives were. But he didn’t explain that to Mikel.

  “The job hasn’t changed,” he said, pitching his voice as a dismissal. He had more of his very meaningful paper-pushing to get back to. “Continue with your original assignment. And report back to me as soon as you learn anything.”

  Mikel gave a brisk nod. Then turned on his heel and walked out.

  Largan was glad to see him go. He hoped they wouldn’t have another encounter until this whole thing had been sorted out.

  ***

  It felt very strange to arrange her hair in something other than the two long braids she’d been wearing all her life. But, following Jenson’s suggestion, Riana coiled her hair at the nape of her neck in a tight knot instead.

  Tava wouldn’t let her go back to her loft to get clothes, so she had to borrow another outfit. Tava’s fashion was much more trendy and stylish than Riana’s own, and she ended up in a pair of well-tailored chocolate brown pants and a pink fitted blouse.

  They were snugger than she would have chosen, and she would be a lot more comfortable in her own clothes. She’d never put much stock in her appearance, though, so she forgot about her outfit shortly after she put it on.

  At least, until Jenson arrived at 11:30 and stared at her in surprise, his blue eyes widening as he gave her a once-over.

  Riana frowned and glanced down at herself. “It’s not that bad, is it?”

  “Oh no. It’s good. You look taller, though.”

  Snorting, Riana pulled up the hem of one of her pant legs and showed him her three-inch heels. “Tava is taller than me. These shoes are the only way the pants fit.”

  She put on her borrowed pair of tortoise-shell sunglasses as they left the building. “No troubles at work?”

  “Nothing I could recognize. If they suspect me, they’re not letting on.”

  “What happened with my absence?” Since she usually wore heels—although not quite as high as these—she was easily able to match his stride as they headed for Canning Square.

  “It was noted but nobody claimed they knew the reason for it.”

  Riana let out a huff of laughter. “It’s funny. Here I was thinking it would be a big thing, but nobody really cared. I guess I’m not as important as I thought.”

  Jenson smiled appreciatively and reached out to squeeze her arm.

  They walked in silence for the rest of the way, and Jenson led them to an empty table in the far corner
of the open-air café. The café was bordered by a short wrought-iron fence, but it would be easy to step over it should they need to make a quick escape.

  Canning Square was near the center of town, and during the day it was constantly busy. Business people, shoppers, runners, and loiterers crossed the square from street to street, a few pausing to admire the fountain and some pausing to let their dogs mark the bushes that lined the walk.

  “Ten minutes early,” Riana commented unnecessarily.

  “We have a guy watching the perimeter,” Jenson explained, staring idly at the fountain. “It’s best if we get in place early so he can better feel things out.”