The Dark Half of the Sun (The Young Ancients: Timon) (7 page)

BOOK: The Dark Half of the Sun (The Young Ancients: Timon)
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Thinking that let him put it all together, it just clicked, as information did when you had enough to come to a conclusion.

"You were in a meeting with Sara Debri, Maria Ward and Ali. I noticed that you didn't have anything out to work on, so it wasn't a sewing circle or weaving group. You were talking. Yes, that could have been about anything, but you all wanted to go along when I went to take Smythe and Sam up to Wildlands. I could see you taking a day trip, or asking me to take you all somewhere fun, but to the site of a minor theft problem? No. Maybe Ali could have dragged
you
along, but you were all too eager.

"Except Sara. She didn't really want you to go, did she? Definitely reluctant to do it. Maria seemed very excited to connect with William Smythe as well. I suppose it could just be a crush, but if that was the case, she'd just send a note. I really doubt the man would say no to a simple meeting, even if it wasn't something innocent. The Countess is rather attractive after all. That means that she wanted to be near him, but not
with
him."

He paced, a little stuck, for a few seconds while he tried to go over everything he knew.

"Right. No one noticed how the kids were being kept. It might make sense for Counselor Smythe, since he's a military man, but the rest of you should have noticed, but you were all too distracted. You were looking around, toward where Tor's friend Baron Kolbrin and his 'instructors' used to stay. They had a nice big headquarters for their secret force at the back of Wildlands. None of them were around... and they haven't been. Not since before I got back from Vagus. Not that I've heard of. You wanted an unannounced visit to see if any of them were there."

Which meant... It took a second for him to understand it, but finally he nodded, putting it together.

"They're missing. Not all of them, but something caused them to scatter to the winds and no one, not even the King, knows where they are." He waited a beat to add the next bit. "That and you're pregnant, and it isn't my brother's child."

She practically exploded in a denial, but it was the wrong one.

"I'm not pregnant! Why would you think that?"

Timon looked at her for a long time, not moving other than to breathe.

"I know you aren't. The rest was right, or you would have tried to deny it first. It isn't the Larval assassins like you think, though they might be able to pull something like that off. I also doubt that anyone could just take those people. No, someone said something that made it seem like there was a threat and they're trying to defend against it. It has to be pretty big if they didn't feel they could share it with anyone."

Collette scowled at him and curled a fist, looking ready to beat some answers from him. That was understandable if his hunches were correct.

"Stop reading my field. It isn't polite."

He shook his head then and smiled at her, "of course. It
would
be totally fair, but I can't do that yet. Not at a distance like this. If you want to hold hands I might manage it. I'm just putting together information and watching what you do, how you hold yourself. That and making some guesses."

Looking out the window, a clear bit of shield that showed the world was getting gradually darker, Tim moved closer to her and bowed, his voice going low, in case anyone else was listening.

"Do you have a healing amulet I could borrow? Just in case? I have a thing later and you know how 'things' can go."

"In the box by the front door. Just grab one." She looked at him, baffled as he headed away, stopping by the kitchen to get the baskets and needing both hands to carry them as Collette walked behind him, her face puzzled.

"Where are you going, it's a bit late for you to be out, isn't it?"

He nodded, "I have a job. It doesn't pay much. Midnight scenic picnic thing. Hence the food and wine. Not sure when I'll be back, so don't wait up. Is that the box you mentioned?" It really was by the front door and about half full of different things. Most of them glowed in one way or the other. He'd tried to copy that in metal and gotten it to work, but it was a separate field, one that had to be placed at the exact same time as the main one. He could make the glowing sigil or copy the working field, but not both. No one else could yet. Not that he knew of. Even Red had problems with it and she was good.

He found the right amulet, which had a green outline of a person, one that was pretty obviously Tor, and slipped it into his pocket. He should have one for himself, but again, he hadn't been able to make copies of it yet. The thing was a masterwork. Probably why no one had them just lying around. Except here.

It looked like a conspicuous flaunting of wealth. In a way it was. The message was so loud he could nearly hear it with his ears. It said that the people that lived there were so wealthy they didn't have to care about things like theft. They'd just lend you things worth more than some small towns. It wouldn't have been more obvious if they'd left out a box of free gold to take. Almost as if to make that very point, the box that Ali had gotten earlier was still just sitting there. He didn't open the top, really not wanting to know if it was still full or not. It wasn't ten feet from the unlocked front door.

As he looked at it, wondering about how Ali really felt about gold, the door opened and George and Kara walked in. Tim handed the man the larger basket.

"There they are now! Ready for your wonderful trip? We have candles, food and wine and a blanket for you. Can you think of anything else you'd like before we go?" He was about to offer them some scented oils when Collette stopped him.

"This is your fare?"

"Yes. I don't ask questions. It's part of the service. Shall we go?" He could fly at night, but it was a hassle to really find anything. They might well need the time.

The Royal Guards moved closer to each other and cuddled a bit, selling the lie he'd created for them well enough that even Collette, a spy, seemed to buy it for a bit. There were a few things off about it, but nothing too major. The older man was holding too much tension around his mouth and didn't look at Kara enough. For her part she kept checking the weapons in her right hand pouch too often. Though no bulge showed there at all. It was a normal enough thing to do, like a rich man checking his fat wallet or a rich woman that touched her purse. People normally didn't notice they were doing things like that either.

It meant they were nervous and they probably wouldn't have been if they were just going to have a get together somewhere. No, as he'd feared, they were planning on a combat mission. On his way past the box he grabbed one of the force lances along with the healing amulet. They were military grade, and a lot stronger than the air lances he'd made. About twenty times. His felt like being hit by a ten year old. A nice solid thwap that didn't stop. Tor's felt like being kicked by a mule and also didn't stop. It made a difference.

They all loaded in, with Tim making a point of helping Kara up, even though she clearly didn't need it. She was wearing a skirt, one in light tan with a dark blue puffy top. It didn't look good on her, but it did say that she was going out on a date. George was in dark brown, with form fitting pants and a heavy jacket. If you didn't know who they were, they fit the bill for their act. A couple going somewhere for reasons that weren't any of your business and really shouldn't be mentioned to their spouses.

He did the work of shutting the hatches, leaving it as a silver rectangle as they took off.

"Which way?" He didn't want to pause so had started to the north, since that was where most of the Kingdom was, but Kara pulled out a map.

"We need to go to County Rodriguez. It's almost due south. Our destination is about eleven hundred miles from here."

He changed the color of the craft and made the outside more rounded before he turned it around and sped up. They moved without any sound, and it was a little darker than he'd been planning on, his chat with Collette having taken a while. The back section got darker as the Royal Guards clothing got switched around. It was real, but designed to turn into combat gear with just a little effort.

Using his left hand Timon dug out his watch and set it on the little control shelf in front of him. It was nine-seventeen. It was hard to be certain, but he thought he had the controls at the correct point. More or less.

"Estimated time of arrival at this speed is one hour and ten minutes. That will put us in at ten-twenty seven. I can go faster, but this way we might actually end up near the target."

No one suggested he do anything except fly, while they rather openly discussed the rescue plans they'd put together. It wasn't subtle, but would probably work well enough. They were going to land about three miles from the 'villa' and run in on foot. They might have to carry their prize out, if the person was injured, but they could do it. It was a thing they'd practiced for years.

It was pretty clear that they weren't taking any magics in with them either. Finally he had to ask, not getting that part, even though he'd really been trying to ignore what they were saying.

"Why not? I know that the Royal Guard has some."

There was silence from the seats behind him for a long time, until finally George sighed.

"This... isn't an official operation. If we're captured the Kingdom needs to be able to say they weren't involved. All of the magical devices are closely controlled and we have to be able to show who has what at all times, to prevent things like... this actually. It's also why, if we don't return in about four hours, five at the outside, you need to leave. Get yourself back to your bed and deny that you did anything but take us there and leave as requested."

It sounded like a plan to him at least. If they'd let him know, he could have let them borrow some shields from him. Those weren't anything the Kingdom had after all, so it wouldn't look official. He'd told them not to let him know though, so that was his fault.

"Um. OK, so you should be fine with things that I made, or copied? I wish I had my gear with me, I tend not to carry much." He did a quick mental search to remember what he had and made a face.

"You can use my shield, but I only have one on me. It's mine, well, a Tor class eight, but
I
copied it. It won't seem like something that the military would have. I have a Not-flyer too. Regular hand controls. Again only the one. Also an air lance. That isn't very strong. Then... the only other thing I made that I have with me is a fire starter. It's not very powerful either. I mean, plenty to start a fire with damp wood, but it isn't a weapon. Will any of that help?"

There was no sound from the back for nearly ten seconds, but then George cleared his throat.

"That would be most kind, thank you. If we're captured you won't get them back however."

That nearly made Timon swerve as he craned his neck to glare at the man.

"Do you think that actually matters to me? I mean, yes, bring them back, but they're only
things
. It's almost like you don't know me at all, rather than having seen me a small handful of times." He shook his head, kidding to lighten the mood. It worked for a bit, until he noticed the time.

He stopped in the air, the craft very dark, the ground below them just a shade lighter. There would be no way to know what they were landing on, but it almost didn't matter as long as long as he didn't go too fast. The craft was sturdy and couldn't really be damaged as far as he knew. It didn't actually exist, which meant it was stronger in a lot of ways than if it did.

When he opened the door they were in a place with very dense vegetation, the night air being damp, which probably meant warm. He felt fine, but he had a temperature control unit on. He nearly offered it to George, being the eldest, but it was another thing that his brother had made and that could be a problem. Instead he dug out everything he had that he'd made and handed it over. They climbed out, George handing the shield off to Kara, along with everything but the fire starter.

"Five hours. If anyone else comes, leave and don't talk to them. Stay in the craft and keep the doors sealed. When we come back we'll signal you by... saying something witty like 'It's George and Kara and we aren't being held at weapons point.' if we say something else, or at least too much different, leave."

"Got it. Five hours. Don't be late, or you get to walk home."
Chapter three
 

 

 

 

 

 

The wait was boring and tense at the same time, since the world outside the window was strange and hard to see. The air smelled too. Heavy and damp, with hints of moist earth and strange plants. The one good thing, as far as not being noticed, was that he was literally sitting in a bush. Someone might make him out in the daylight, but until then he was pretty safe.

There was really nothing to do until people got back, but it was dangerous enough he didn't dare let himself sleep either. Instead he just watched the clock and fidgeted, trying to stay alert. This lasted until about midnight.

"Happy birthday then." It didn't sound overly cheery, which was annoying when he thought about it. After all, who got to spend their twelfth birthday on some kind of covert mission that even the King wasn't going to admit happened if it went wrong? So it was boring... It was also midnight. Normally he would have slept through this part of the day, wouldn't he? The thought actually got him to perk up a little. It would make a good story someday. Maybe. If not, it was good practice, because it was pretty clear that waiting on nobles was going to mean a lot of down time too. They were the ones with gold, but they also didn't like to be hurried along very much.

In the morning he was going to need to make the rounds and start reminding people that he could get them places. It was a bit daunting, because Timon didn't really know anyone that well in the Capital, but if he didn't try, no one would hire him. It occurred to him that he could, if she was willing, get Maria to help him make some contacts. She had to know people. Sure, she was a bit hated by a lot people, for declaring war, along with her husband, on everyone else, but infamous could work for this too. People would want to see her just to say they had, and she could let them know that she was trying to make up, telling them about his new service.

That she had no reason to do that also occurred to him. Meeting someone twice didn't really mean they were friends after all.

There was the communications device in Tor's sitting room however and it had a direct link to every Count and Countess in Noram. Not the Dukes or Duchesses, which was an oversight, since they were technically important too, if not as powerful as they once were, due to the centrist rebellion a few hundred years before. Still, they had funds to spend on travel, so would be worth getting in touch with, if he could do it.

The best thing to do would be just asking who to talk to first, most likely. Most people weren't that stingy with information, at least if it wasn't a secret, and it really was a decent idea for a service. A little expensive seeming at first, but ten gold for every thousand miles was about what it cost to travel by carriage, which is why he'd picked it. That way he could bargain with people and they'd feel clever when they "got the better of him". If they paid a silver per trip he'd still make a good profit, but he wasn't going to point that out to anyone. He only had five Fast Craft right now and that meant it would be a commodity for a while. People didn't mind paying for things that others couldn't. It made them feel special.

The clock hardly seemed to be moving, the minute hand crawling slowly around as the hours passed, and he nodded off more than once. That's why he didn't notice the glow from the fire for a while, being asleep. He rubbed his eyes sheepishly and stared at the orange glow, having seen enough things like it to get the idea. It wasn't just a blaze, it was a large one, over the tree line. He had no way to judge the distance, but he couldn't smell it yet. That could mean a lot of things, like the wind blowing in the other direction, or the smoke just not having had time to reach him. It was a good thing either way, since he really didn't want to be sitting in the middle of a burning forest if he could help it. It just felt like a bad plan.

That part of things got his attention enough to keep his eyes opened after that, even if it was a fight to do it. He looked into the dark, as if it would help him find anything, and realizing that hearing would be his best bet given the blackness outside, he cracked open the door of the craft, in the passenger section, to listen. He did that one since, if the Royal Guards made it in time, that's what they'd be using to get in anyway. It was only just hitting three when he did it and less than twenty-minutes before he heard people coming.

People on horses. Shouting to each other.

Definitely not the ones he wanted. He nearly panicked and just took off, but it hadn't been five hours yet. Nearly, having only about ten minutes to go, give or take. He wasn't going to let the people catch him there, since he'd been told not to risk it, but they weren't that close either. Instead he crouched tensely in the open door, hoping that he wasn't about to be caught doing something illegal. That would be a horrible way to spend a special day, wouldn't it?

Locked up in prison... no cake...

That thought earned a smile, which is what his expression was when the three people came out of the brush. It was too hard to tell who they were at first, but they were on foot, or at least two of them were. One floated, which meant they had a Not-flyer in use. They were all big, but that didn't mean much. Timon didn't say anything though as they got to the side of the craft.

A harsh voice came from the darkness.

"It's George and Kara. We have our prize with us." It wasn't loud and it sounded horrible, raw and burnt, like a person that had been doing a lot of coughing. It was Kara though, he thought.

"Get in. The door is about twelve feet in front of you... a little to your right." He was decently well hidden he realized, more so than he'd expected. It was still dark out and would be for hours and they probably wouldn't be seen if they left soon, even with the horsemen closing on them.

There were three points of wheezing as they closed with him, but no one groaned, even as the person using the Not-flyer had to be helped on board. Tim moved in and tried to pull them up grabbing under their arms. There was a soft cry then, but no one said he should stop. Whoever it was didn't have any clothing on and was huge. It took help to get them all in, but a minute later he closed the door as they settled into the dark.

"One second. I want to get out of here, then we can have some light." He dove toward the front, scrambling a little and missing the seat the first time he tried to sit, nearly falling to the floor, but he had them up and away with only a bit of crashing from outside about ten seconds later. Then he hit the shelf in front of him with his left hand and made the ceiling glow enough for them all to see. It wasn't bright still, since he needed to know where he was going, but it was enough to work by. He had to crane his neck to see what was happening behind him and kind of wished he hadn't when he did. There was a woman who was covered with dried blood and filth, her face half smashed in. All of her limbs were going in the wrong directions too. She barely fit in the seat it was so bad.

She also smelled horribly, which probably said something about how truly awful whatever had happened was. She didn't make a sound, just looking back at him with the one eye that wasn't swollen shut. It was enough to get him to set the controls to just hover in place, leaving them in the air for a bit, while he scrambled to find the healing amulet. The others looked pretty bad too, but they weren't anywhere near as damaged.

"Here, I don't want to scare you... This will help you heal, but it will hurt. Maybe a lot." He'd used one before, when he'd gotten a cut chopping some vegetables. The thing was a miracle, but it did sting as it healed him. This wasn't some little slice on a finger. This woman was... He wasn't certain what to call it.

It surprised him, but her right hand came out toward him, slowly reaching for the device, even though it had to be agony for her to even try it. He held it out then, not knowing why, clasped his hand over it for a second and pushed it firmly to her arm. It tried to heal him too, which made him feel awake and chipper suddenly, but nothing else. It was far worse for her.

She screamed. He didn't let go though, knowing she needed it, no matter what.

George started talking, his voice low, but encouraging, "hang in there. I know it hurts, but that will fade. It
is
fading, focus on that. Just a little longer..."

He stopped, interrupted by several loud cracking sounds, that Timon finally understood to be her arms and legs re-breaking, so they could be fixed. It was a fast process, but it still took about five minutes before he recognized her. Captain Petra. They'd never really spoken much, but she'd been in charge of the ship that had taken him and the rest to Austra. A friend of his brother's, he thought.

It went on for a long time, and he moved back to the controls, just as soon as the screaming stopped, heading back toward the Capital. No one had said to go that way, but it made sense.

There were three more cracks that he noticed and a dozen pops, but other than heavy panting there was no more crying out. No one said much other than to be encouraging, until she managed to speak, sounding almost normal, about fifteen minutes later.

"Is there any water?"

There wasn't of course. It was something he should have thought to have on hand already, but just hadn't.

"No, in the little basket behind my seat there's a bottle of juice. Drink that first. There's food and wine too and if we have to we can land and find a clean river." There was sound from behind him, a rustling, then some murmurs.

"It's good. Thank you." This came out low and subdued.

Captain Petra had an arm over her chest, and had handed the amulet over to George, who was doing his own panting, having been hurt more than it had looked like it seemed. Kara started struggling to get the blanket that was tied to the bottom of the other basket, then handed it off to the naked woman.

Timon shrugged, tapped his own shirt front while concentrating and took his clothing device off. It left him naked, but he hadn't been through whatever she had and no one cared if little kids ran around without clothing. Not nobles at least and he really doubted the Royal Guards would be all that concerned.

"Here. Use this." Then he kept flying, trying not to turn around. It was embarrassing, being naked in public and left him feeling exposed. Vulnerable in a way he hadn't even a few moments before. He certainly didn't want to see the look on anyone else's face.

Except that he couldn't help it and glanced back anyway. The Captain had clothing on and was making herself a nice pair of combat leathers already. George nodded to him and passed the healing device to Kara, who only needed to hold it for a minute or so.

Finally she spoke, her voice much improved and nearly smooth compared to earlier.

"Where are we headed?"

Timon looked at the time, knowing that they'd want to know where they were as well as the destination.

"The Capital, it's hard to know how exact I was picking the direction, but we should be about a third of the way there, barring any major errors on my part."

"Good. We need to go to the palace directly." There was something hidden in the words, but it wasn't a message for him, Tim realized. It was for the others.

He nodded, not looking back again.

"There's food in the baskets too."

That got more noise from behind him again, as the large woman snagged the big basket and started to eat something. Kara cautioned her to slow down, or she'd be ill from it but there was a snort in response.

"No. The healing amulet prevents that kind of response, even if you're starving, which I am. You know, Tor used me for the female template for it. He said that should mean it will work better for me than any other woman. I've got to say I'm enjoying that part right now. Good thinking, bringing snacks on the rescue mission." There were some more eating sounds then, followed by the wine bottle being opened.

Kara made a sound that seemed a little disapproving at first, but turned into a dark laugh after a moment.

"That was Timon. We asked for a lift from his new transport service. Apparently it comes with the deal. Imagine what we'd have gotten if we were paying him?"

That got another laugh, but it was enough of a point that he stopped them, forgetting his own embarrassment for a few minutes.

"What would you want? I mean, if you were paying for it?"

Captain Petra spoke first, almost relaxed sounding as she did it, "well, right now I could use a restroom. Other than that? Oh, some music to pass the time? Or reading materials? I can't complain about the food though, it's really good." She showed just how much so by taking a bite part way through the last sentence.

He could see about arranging that then, couldn't he? How he'd manage a restroom he didn't know, but the rest was doable. A musician? That would take up an extra seat and the flights were pretty short for the most part. Maybe just for special trips?

George cleared his throat then and looked around.

"Have you considered some art? Nobles do love such things and I believe that you can redecorate the inside of the vehicle as well, if you use your imagination? It won't add to your service expenditures either, if you can do it yourself."

All good ideas, he filed them away for later. After he had some clothing and maybe some food himself. He didn't want to complain about the food vanishing, since he couldn't eat and fly at the same time anyway, and it was clearly an emergency, but he'd forgotten to have anything, being too nervous before. Now it was kind of poking at his insides a bit. He'd live, but it wasn't comfortable.

BOOK: The Dark Half of the Sun (The Young Ancients: Timon)
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