Free The Dark Half of the Sun (The Young Ancients: Timon) by P.S. Power

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