Kyer stumbled a bit on unsteady feet as she found herself once more on solid ground, but a strong arm caught her. Turning, she straightening the fabric of her dark, woolen poncho before taking a step backwards in order to execute a deep bow to her benefactor without accidently thwapping him with her bulging pack.
"Gracias, Warrior Huaman! I am most appreciative of your willingness to provide transport. I do not know how I would have managed the trip without your kind assistance".

The Inca nodded gravely in return. "I do not like leaving you here alone; you are like little atoc--wild and full of mischief, yet I feel an odd disquiet in the spirits. Something is not right in this. Shall I still wait the two weeks before taking Senora home?

Grinning, Kyer nodded eagerly. "Yes--- and thank you for the stories of Twantinsuyo! Perhaps one day we can catch some of the Quechuan Festivals? Travel with the sariri?

The Inca smiled at her pleading manner. It was not often he found one of the Invader's ancestry so genuinely taken with the culture that had raised him. "I look forward to it." He slowly levitated upwards. "May Inti watch over you as you go into battle."

"And may Illapa and Mama Quilla protect you from his fierceness."

Farewells said, Kyer hoisted her backpack and adjusted a guacho-style hat; shivering. Plucking a red jalepeno from the coca bag around her neck, she stuck it in her mouth and began to chew, savoring the warmth of the hot food while surveying the Canadian landscape thoughtfully: wishing she knew what the Inka had meant concerning the spirits-- and why she had been asked by her CotK friends to come to this alien place. Drat her brother for not writing down the message!

She shivered again. By the Fangs of Agua Fria Freddy--- this Great White North sure was cold! Temprature felt like it was plumb down in the seventies (F). Seventies in August? Kyer grimaced, surpised her breath wasn't visible and thankful it wasn't snowing. Where the heck was that global warming when you needed it?

She reached back and petted the full-body llama puppet strapped onto her bag. "Well, here we are, Mr. Spitz. I don't suppose you brought along the piece of paper with directions to the Comfy Cottage?" The puppet--as usual---kept its thoughts quiet. Kyer sighed, "I thought not. Better find a phone booth." A grin spread across her face. "Or we could go to the Loft instead? I remember *that* address! Hehehe." The synthetic llama toy was a picture of disapproving silence. Kyer's face fell. "Yeah, you're right, Mr. Spitz--- the CotK first. Darn obligations."