They sat. Gasping slightly. Both of them.
Steam rose.
"You both have something now," he said.
The silence he left around the sentence did its work. Both women stilled—the attending quality of bodies that had been doing nothing but receiving all night, and had just been told there was something to understand.
"Mira." He looked at her. "Healing."
She blinked. The word arrived and then the feeling behind it arrived—the warm, interior quality of something she realized she'd already sensed, at the back of her sternum, when she'd put her hands on Avriana tonight. The warmth that had come from her palms without asking.
She looked at her hands under the water.
"Avriana." He turned. "Probability manifestation."
Avriana went very quiet.
