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patrons were too busy sloshing down room-temperature stout and playing darts or billiards to pay much attention to a pair of weary American tourists, but later, when Kyna got up to go to the ladies' room, Cyrus caught one or two of the solitary drinkers giving her veiled but approving looks. Cyrus downed a second diet soda and then led Kyna up to the room. |
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While he was busy surfing through the TV channels, Kyna went into the bathroom, took off all of her clothes and stood at the sink brushing her teeth while she waited for the tub to fill. She casually glanced up at the mirror and her heart almost stopped. The face staring back from the glass belonged to some horrible-looking old hag with a face that was a mass of wrinkles, a head full of dried-out, hennaed hair, bags under her eyes and loose flaps of skin dangling down from her chin like the neck of a turkey. |
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Slamming her eyes shut, Kyna swayed drunkenly as she slowly reached out with one hand to wipe the condensation from the glassthe other hand instinctively went to her throat, grasping the necklace with all of her might. |
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A faint voice spoke to her through her fingers. "What is it you fear?" |
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She was shaking so badly and she knew she was hallucinating, but she couldn't repress the thing that frightened her most. |
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"Please, I don't want to get old." |
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A wave of icy cold passed through her body and when she opened her eyes she almost laughed out loud. |
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She was back. The face in the mirror did look haggard and there were dark circles around the eyes, but it was her face and she felt like kissing the glass. |
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Yet even as relief washed over her, she felt a mild tingling sensation in the hand gripping the necklace. The tingling spread like hot soup up her arm and into her chest, filling her body with a strange sensual warmth. She threw back her head and closed her eyes. |
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