It was about a three-hour drive to Hermosillo. The villa was located in the low hills west of the city, near the coast of the Sea of Cortez. Dema drove some distance past the entrance, then pulled the Jeep well off the road to a place where it would be hidden from view.

By this time night had fallen. Dema and Juan began walking toward the villa. Pup, happy to be free of the confines of the Jeep, cavorted around them.

"Pup wonders why we insist on moving so slowly," commented Juan.

"His form is far better adapted to this terrain than ours," Dema agreed.

Juan's answer to that was a sly smile, then Dema felt his dream-shift and there were two coyotes beside her instead of one.

Dema smiled broadly herself, and went deeper into her own shaman-dream. She had already become familiar with Pup in the special way of the shaman. In an instant she had shifted into the coyote-dream herself, and the three of them loped off together toward the villa.

As they ran, Dema began sorting through the strands of heightened awareness that the canine sense of smell was bringing her, the dry dusty odor of the earth, the spicy pungency of mesquite and sagebrush, the scent of rabbits and other small animals whose trails they crossed.

Pup, of course, was pure coyote, but Juan's scent retained some trace of human. Her own scent, she was sure, would be that way as well. No natural coyote would mistake her or Juan for one of their own. That trace, she understood, was the way back. Without it, the reality of her underlying humanity could be lost to her, and she might never return.

These thoughts brought back memories of the night she had found her lost sister Kore, living in snake-form in the storm drains beneath the streets of Chicago. She recalled the long twining snake-embrace they had shared, the way the taste of her sister's body had confirmed their kinship to her snake-senses. It remained one of the most intense pleasures of her life, rediscovering her lost sister and becoming intimate with her again in that way.

On impulse, in the midst of this memory, she swung her head toward Juan and sniffed at his furry side. His response was to sniff her back. She replied in kind, and the sniffs turned into nuzzles. In an instant they were both rolling on the ground, sniffing and nuzzling each other joyfully. Pup ran up to them and joined the fun. In a moment it was over, and they all stood looking at each other with coyote-grins. Dema almost wanted her human face back so she could laugh with pleasure. But with a slight nod of his head in the direction toward the villa, Juan reminded her of what they were there for, and they resumed their loping pace across the hills. The scent-memory of Juan remained with Dema, filling some small void she had not before been aware was there.