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The scent of the old man's sickness filled Cyrus's mouth with saliva. His claws popped out and he flexed his fingers. But he maintained control by shoving all the primitive urges deep into the far corners of his consciousness. |
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"You kinda pretty," Kazie said, and pushed himself out of the chair. The old man came around the table and stroked Cyrus's fur. |
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Cyrus spent the remainder of the night tossing and turning and trying to keep from waking Kyna. He was both relieved and frightened by what he had learned from Kazie Mabuto. Relievedfor now he had some idea what had happened to him, and as crazy as it may have sounded, he felt better for knowing. But he was frightened by the idea that some crazy witch doctor was dogging his heels. The questions of what it all meant, what he had become, what the future held, why a Hungan was after him, were just too big for him to tackle all at once. He pigeonholed the questions, and like Scarlett O'Hara, he decided to think about them tomorrow. |
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Some time later Cyrus noticed that the sheers over the windows had turned from white to pink and he glanced at the clock beside the bed and gave up all notions of trying to sleep. After a quick shower, he pulled on a pair of clean jeans and one of the Navaho prints that Kyna had given him and walked down to the sourdough bread stand at Fisherman's Wharf to pick up breakfast. |
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After breakfast, Kyna drove to Golden Gate Park. They made it through the park's maze of twisting roads and arrived in front of the Steinhart Aquarium half an hour before the place opened. Rather than sit in the parking lot with several busloads of screaming schoolchildren, Kyna suggested they take a stroll around the park. |
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With her trusty camera dangling like a leather lei around her neck, they explored the lush gardens, dodging arcs of water from the sprinklers, overzealous bumblebees and the occasional militant jogger. |
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