...::Help me, Cinna. Help me.::

Cinnamon Sweetstorm d’ Vortimer woke in the early dawn, shaken from the disturbing dream of her death into reality by her young cousin Luki’s agonized mindcall.

Her fairy-dragon, Poppy, took flight from the pillow beside Cinnamon, fluttered around the room, then zoomed through the open-air vent to the inner hallway.

Bolting out of bed, Cinnamon asked, ::Are you hurt? Where are you?::

::In Kardona. Searching for First Colony ruins.:: Luki’s pain and fear muffled his thoughts.

Her skin crawled at the name of the country with its powerful, shapeshifter-hating priests and the ruthless troops they commanded, but she knew any hint of worry or sympathy would tip the teenage dragon shifter into a downward spiral of despair. ::Luki Sunseeker McDougal, report,:: she rapped out in her no-nonsense teacher’s voice.

::They trapped me at a traveler’s spring. The priests’ guards caught me in a net of stickyhold.::

::Flame through the strands and get out of there now.:: She used the voice of command to get him moving. Every passing second increased his danger.

::Can’t. Changed to human form before they came, but still…darted with quist. Thoughts are muddled. Vision blurred. Want to sleep.::

::Quist.:: She fought to keep her mental voice calm. A dart didn’t dispense an accurate dose. Too much of the drug could kill. ::Try to stay awake as long as possible, Luki. I’m coming. Escape if you get a chance, but don’t shift until you’re in a safe place.::

::Hurry. Be careful. Don’t tell Rion.::

::Do you think I want to start a war between Cymbria and Kardona?:: The thought popped out before she could grab it. The last thing Luki needed was to feel guilty.

He surprised her with a mental laugh. ::That’s right, Tart-Tongue, say what you think.::

::Luki Sunseeker McDougal, you’re growing up. Now use your wits to keep your hide—and—skin in one piece until I reach you.::

::Will do. See you soon…please.::

The hint of despair in his last word made his brave façade more poignant. Her fourteen-year-old cousin was maturing early. She promised herself she’d do everything possible to return him to Cymbria and give him the years to reach his full growth.

Cinnamon sent a quick mindcall to her housekeeper. ::Berta, Luki’s gone adventuring. I’m going after him. Please make up two packets and don’t tell anyone.::

::Doing that now, Marama Sweetstorm. Your Poppy grabbed my apron and tugged me toward the cupboard of travel supplies. The packets will be ready in two shakes of a wooley’s tail. I’ll add extra honey cakes for the young scamp. Adventuring can be hungry work.::

::You’re a jewel. My thanks.::

As she’d communicated with Berta, Cinnamon had sorted through her trunk of clothes appropriate for young men. The heavy, brown travel breeches, shirt, dark green overtunic, rapto-dragosaur hide boots with knitted cazwool socks, joined a hooded cazwool cloak. All went into a dragosaur-hide pack for Luki for the times he moved from place to place in human form. The long, adjustable rope of braided hide, used as a strap to wear around his neck in either form, was a common item utilized by non-shifters throughout Cymbria and Kardona.

Ridden by a sense of urgency, she looked through her own travel pack and the medicine roll tucked safely inside. Both were always ready for a journey. As a teacher and healer of young shapeshifters coming into their gifts, she had to be prepared to leave on short notice.

Those trips had been throughout Cymbria where her help was welcomed. This time, though, she’d venture into the country where shapeshifters were captured and kept drugged and tortured until the dragon-hating priests ordered death by burning.