Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Louie was soundly asleep when he was suddenly woken up by a high-pitched screech about two feet above him. He groaned and grabbed his phone from underneath his pillow. 6 A.M. On a Tuesday. A regular, boring, Tuesday when they had nothing much planned. 

Huey’s sleepy voice came from the top bunk, “Dewey what the heck?” 

“Yeah, dude,” Louie grumbled groggily, kicking at Dewey's bunk, “why are you screeching like a banshee at six A.M.?”

“The day is here!” Dewey gave a non-answer, jumping off the middle bunk and rushing to change, making a horrible mess in the process. 

“What day?” Louie mumbled into the pillow, although he wasn’t particularly interested. However, Dewey talking about his day was better than Dewey incoherently yelling from excitement. 

“Webby and I are going to that fair at Spoonerville! You know, the one where you can find anything! Well, I’ve been social-media spying on one of the regular sellers and he is selling some of the best vintage merch out there! Old video games, vintage key-chains, stuff like that!”

“Wait? you are awake for that?” Huey asked.

“Yeah, isn’t that the thing Beakley is taking you and Webby to that she specifically mentioned you can’t leave for till 9 A.M. at the earliest because she has some stuff to do? Why the hell are you awake at 6 A.M.?!?”

“I couldn’t sleep!” Dewey said with excitement. 

“Well, at least Webby isn’t awake yet,” Huey said from the top bunk. 

That very moment, the room door burst open, and a bouncing ball of energy known as Webbigail Wonderquack-McDuck jumped in, “Dewey are you already getting ready?”

Louie leaned over the edge of the bed, eying the upper bunk where Huey facepalmed, “Hue, may I remind you there is such a thing as jinxing?” The youngest triplet said in a deadpan voice, “And it is particularly strong when you say Webby isn’t awake yet . Ans especially if I’m trying to sleep!”

“Oh my, I’ve been up till 2 A.M. looking at all the different sellers, and their merchandise!” Webby beamed, “Did you know one is selling the first and only edition of The Master of Rings in old Sumerian? I NEED TO HAVE THOSE!”  

“AND DID YOU KNOW ONE GUY IS SELLING VINTAGE GALAXY BATTLES FLAGS?”

“AND I’VE READ ONLINE THAT ONE YEAR ONE WOMAN BOUGHT A GENUINE MEDIEVAL CROSSBOW THERE!!!”

“AND SOMEONE FOUND A BASKETBALL SIGNED BY ALL THE MEMBERS OF THE TEAM THAT WON IN THE OLYMPICS IN 2000!!!”

“AND SOMEONE-”

“AND SOMEONE WOULD REALLY LIKE TO SLEEP SO PLEASE, GET OUT OF OUR ROOM!” Louie yelled. Both Dewey and Webby turned to him. 

“Oh,” Webby deflated slightly, smiling sheepishly, “sorry, Louie, Huey, I’m just very excited.”

Louie rubbed his eyes, “Yeah, yeah, and I’m excited for the two of you. Or I will be. Once I’m properly awake. But can you two please go be excited somewhere else?” 

“Sure!” Webby said, still sounding cheerful. That was good. Louie was not entirely certain how biting his tone was, and he didn’t want to make Webby feel bad. “Again, sorry guys, I’ll try to knock first next time. I know I always promise that! But next time I really promise!”

“Webs, it’s fine,” Louie said, “just, not at 6 A.M. How are you even awake with only four hours of sleep…”

“What can I say,” Dewey cut in, “Webby and I are running on pure excitement!”

“We’ll let you sleep,” Webby said, “You two sure you don’t want to come along?” 

“Yup!” Louie pulled a blanket over himself, “This house is filled to the brim with old stuff already, I want new stuff. Plus, I’ve got a lazy day planned ahead today. No adventures to cut into my schedule today. Just me, a ton of Pep, and a rerun of Ottoman Empires.”

“Louie, please, don’t you be the one to jinx it now!” Huey said, “I have to go to the lab to work on that new surprise for Drake.”

“The one you can’t talk about outside of the lab in case Beaks is spying for ideas before it’s patented?” Webby asked, taking a fighting stance and looking over the room as if expecting Mark Beaks to walk out of one of the corners. 

“Yup!” Huey said, “we want the final prototype version to be done by the weekend when Drake is coming to visit. So, I have a full schedule today!”

“We will be informing you about items we think you two might find interesting!” Dewey said. 

“You know what I would find interesting?” Louie said.

“What?”

“Some more peace and quiet so I could sleep!” Louie said, “Seriously, I can sleep through almost anything but you two, high on excitement in the dawn is not one of those things!”

“Ok, ok, we’re leaving,” Webby said, dragging Dewey out with her, “sorry, again! And good night! Or good dawn, I guess, since it’s not, you know, night!”

“Louie, don’t hate me, but I have to set the alarm for 8 A.M.,” Huey said, “I have to finish a Woodchuck report before I go to the lab later and also fix some stitching on my stash!”

“Sure, whatever. 8 A.M.  is early but not crazy early. Besides, your alarm is one of the things I can sleep through!” Louie said, turning to his side. “Night, Hue!”

“Night,” Huey said, setting the alarm, and turned to his side. After about a minute or so, he realized he was way too awake by that point. 

“You know what,” he said, “they woke me up and now there is no way I’ll fall back asleep. So, I’m going to the dining room to work on my report. Louie?” he climbed down his bunk and realized Louie was already asleep. Huey quietly changed and left the room, allowing his brother to have his nice, relaxing day of no adventures and wishing the same thing for himself. They had to finish the project for Drake. 

…..

Two hours later, Louie woke up. This was a bit strange since usually, he could sleep in up until noon. Even stranger was that something compelled him to get up instead of turning around and going back to sleep as he would usually do. 

He dragged his feet to their bathroom, still able to hear Dewey’s and Webby’s very loud conversations all the way from her room. If you could hook those two up on a power plant, the entire Duckburg would be set for a lifetime. 

After brushing his teeth, he walked down to the dining room where he found Huey sitting at the table, his breakfast only half-eaten, furiously writing something. There was nobody else around, not even Mrs. Beakley. 

He walked over to the counter, found some toast and cocoa, and then joined Huey at the table. He carefully drew Huey’s attention, “So, where is everyone?”

“Oh hi, Louie. At the Annual Fall Woodchuck gathering- wait, what? Louie?” he lifted his head, only then fully realizing what was going on, “Huh, you are up early? Sorry, what did you ask?”

“Got lost in writing? I asked if you knew where everyone is.”

“To answer both questions, yes and I don’t know. I think Mrs. Beakley and Uncle Scrooge are discussing something in his study, but I’m not sure. She was here and she made coffee when he called her over,” he glanced down at his paper, “Oh no! This isn’t right!”

“Is that your report?” Louie asked, taking a sip of his cocoa. 

“Yeah, I led a few activities at the Annual Fall Gathering for the Junior Junior Woodchucks with other Senior Junior Woodchucks. Now I must report on both the progress of the Junior Juniors and the working environment with the Senior Juniors. But I can’t get the tone right!”

“And what tone are you going for?”

“Ummm, polite frustration? I guess...” he scratched his head, “Ok so, things didn’t go best . Firstly, the Junior Juniors were not listening to us half the time, but that’s one thing. They are really young. However, I have issues with some of the Senior Juniors. But the rule goes never speak ill of a fellow woodchuck and now I’m stumped!”

“Well, if you ask me, that rule is bull! Like, that guy that used to bully you a lot, why would you not be allowed to say ‘hey, he is a jerk’!” Louie shook his head.

“Well see it’s just, you know what, no, nope, I don’t have time for moral dilemmas. Besides, it wasn’t that bad. The gathering, I mean. There was just some, mild miscommunication. Some on my part. I admit that. But some definitely not. So now I just don’t want to sound rude. Or uptight. Or something worse! I don’t want to be the reason people question the never speak ill of a fellow woodchuck is what I’m saying!” 

“Ok, ok, Huey, chill!” Louie gestured comfortingly at his brother, “you know what, let me have a look!”

“Really?” Huey perked up, “Oh thank you! They said no help from adults, but you are not an adult so, I guess you don’t count…” he handed the paper over with some hesitation, “It’s a bit messy…”

“My, my, Huey finding loopholes in rules, what did this world turn into!” Louie commented, and then noticed Huey’s discomfort. He looked like he was ready to grab the paper away, “Oh my I’m kidding, jeez! There is such a thing as proof-reading, right? Beta-readers, editors, or whatever! It’s not like I’ll write the paper for you!” he looked over, “Ok, now, the grammar is, I’m assuming, impeccable, you got that part.” 

Louie read through the wall of text, “Hey, can I borrow your pen? Thank you,” he went through, occasionally sounding certain sentences out and making small notes.

“Well, it’s not too bad,” he finally said. “If I were you, I’d rephrase this. Sounds a bit sharp, I don’t think you meant to give off that tone. And here, here and here, maybe some milder words. Also, add this here and you’re golden!” he handed the pen and paper back to Huey. 

He read through the paper, “Oh my this does sound better! Thank you! I’m surprised you changed so little If I’m honest!”

“No problem, that’s my thing, right? Talking, schmoozing, finding the right thing to say. And I didn’t want to put too much Louie into it. This is your essay, report, whatever. About your thing. Let’s keep it being Huey but maybe a bit less frustrated one, ok?”

At that moment, they heard Scrooge and Beakley arguing in the hallway and their voices were getting nearer.

“-telling you Beakley, I know what I’m doing !” Scrooge stomped through the door, going over straight for the counter and pouring himself a cup of coffee. 

Mrs. Beakley walked in, looking done with their uncle, “Scrooge, your plan is utterly insane! You can’t seriously be considering…” she rubbed her temples and let out a long sigh, “You are giving me a headache at 8 in the morning!”

“Naw, you worry too much, Bentina! Lads,” he turned towards the boys, a toast in one hand and a mug in another, “I’m off to an adventure! Now, Louie, I’m assuming you are not interested, considering you have been going on about your lazy day , a concept I fail to understand, but to each their own. And Huey?”

“Sorry Uncle Scrooge, I would love to come, but I have this to finish, and I promised Fenton I’ll come to the lab!”

“Ah, the project for Drake? How’s it coming along?”

“Nicely! But I can’t talk about it here!”

“What? On whose orders?” Scrooge asked, almost offended. Was Gyro hiding something again?

“Um, yours? To stop Mark Beaks from stealing Gyro’s, Fenton’s, and Gandra’s ideas, remember?”

“Ah, right right….”

“Excuse me, we are not done here!” Mrs. Beakley cut in, “Can we get back to your utterly insane plan you are now trying to wrap these two into! Thank goodness I’m already taking Dewey and Webby to Spoonerville for that antique fair before you try roping them in as well!” 

“Mrs. Beakley, may I ask, what exactly is this utterly insane plan you keep referring to? The last time you reacted like this was, actually I can’t remember…” Louie asked.

“Your uncle is planning on gallivanting around the world with Goldie O’Gilt!  Of all the insane plans…” she narrowed her eyes at Louie, whose interest peaked. Spending a day with Uncle Scrooge and Aunt Goldie? Possibly even better than an Ottoman Empire rerun.

He tried to hide it, casually sipping on his cocoa but the mild glint in his eyes didn’t escape Beakley’s sharp eye. 

“Bentina you are exaggerating! We are not going ‘round the world’! Just to visit an old cave since she suggested-

“Yes! She suggested ! Don’t tell me you trust her!”

“We are on much better terms these days!”

“Oh right, she only stabs you in the back mildly these days!”

“Wait, hold up,” Huey cut in, his report laying on the table, forgotten, “What is going on exactly? Where are you going? What are you looking for?”

“Goldie suggested she and I go and retry the adventure we attempted in the past,” he ignored Beakley’s not-so-subtle mutterings, “Now, I will admit, that trip doesn’t hold all the best memories, but the past is in the past. We are going to take a look at Candelabra of Influence. Now that is not the most creative name for an item that can be used to control others but is a fitting one. The path to it only opens every 27 years and 4 months. That is tomorrow.”

“And now, your uncle is planning on going to find an item that can be used to mind-control others with Goldie O’Gilt of all people! May I remind you what happened last time you two went looking for it?”

“Oh, that was 54 years and 8 months ago, Beakley, we changed! And it’s not like she used the Candelabra on me! Even if she did, I’d be able to shake the influence off!”

“Yeah, right!”

“What is that supposed to mean!” Scrooge asked furiously, “You know, if you think something horrible is going to happen, come with us, we’ll prove you wrong!”

“Gladly, so I can rub it in when it bites you in the…But, as we established, I’m going to Spoonerville!”

Scrooge thought for a second, completely unfazed by her anger, as if he just realized something, “Wait a minute, you are not coming, Webby’s not coming, Della has some repair work with her leg to do, I gave Launchpad a day off, the lad deserves it, Donald’s off at the sea and the lads are busy….it will be weird without any of you!”

“And dangerous!” Beakley added.

“I’ll come!” Louie said.

“What? Scrooge was caught off guard. 

“ What ?” Mrs. Beakley practically sneered. 

“Wha- no, that makes total sense,” Huey concluded, returning his attention to his report. 

“Louie, you won’t hear me say this often, but please, give in to that urge of yours to lounge in front of the TV the whole day. I’ll even tell you where the secret stash of Cherry Pep in this house is!” Mrs. Beakley said, “Don’t encourage your uncle who is on crazy pills it seems!”

“Nah, I want to see Aunt Goldie!” Louie shrugged. He did, however, make a mental note about the secret Cherry Pep stash for later.

“ AUNT ?” Mrs. Beakley sounded incredulous. 

“Besides, we all know she has a soft spot for me. Actually, I think she is forming a tiny little soft spot for Huey, Dewey, and Webs as well, but she wouldn’t admit that even under the influence of truth serum. So, I get to spend time with her, Scrooge gets a sidekick, and we get an insurance she won’t pull anything because she likes me! It’s a win-win-win!”

“Right, right, and I’m the president of the United States!” Mrs. Beakley said with a level of sarcasm she usually reserved for Scrooge and Della.

Louie seemed unfazed, merely shrugging. 

“Actually,” Huey pointed out carefully, mildly shrinking as Beakley pointed her glare at him, “he- he is saying the truth. I believe. See, when he was at Doofus’ birthday party, Doofus used B.O.Y.D., who wasn’t yet the B.O.Y.D. we know and love, to attack Louie and Goldie stood between them, fully ready to take the hit. I saw it in B.O.Y.D.’s files! And B.O.Y.D. can take on Gizmoduck, therefore, Goldie risked her life to protect Louie, without any reward!”

“Yup without her I would be,” Louie shivered, “You know what, let’s not talk about it. There is a reason I can’t watch horror films with even a single baseball bat appearing! The Waddling Dead is forever ruined for me! Also, don’t forget about Everglades. She had an out there, Dewey and Huey literally told her ‘go save yourself’ , but she stayed and saved us all!”

“And she helped out during F.O.W.L. battle! Gosalyn told us that, once they were free, she helped out fighting Eggheads!”

“And besides,” Duckworth’s voice came from behind, the ghost butler having floated into the room. “From what I gathered, you are afraid Miss O’Gilt will steal the candelabra. Not her style, concurring the world, I think we can all agree of that.” he sipped on coffee, looking directly at Beakley. “I also have to agree that the things between this family and Miss O’Gilt have changed, the last time she was here, after the aforementioned battle against F.O.W.L. she hasn’t stolen anything. I checked. Trice. So did you.”

“Oh shove off, you are just saying that to get under my skin!”

“Is it working?” Duckworth asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Go do whatever you ghosts do in the afterlife! Wait, how are you even drinking coffee, you are metaphysical!”

“Magic,” Duckworth said nonchalantly, setting his now empty mug on the counter and floating out of the room, “And I have a chess match planned with Hades himself. If you are wondering what I’m doing in the afterlife!”

“If that is magic then you are the waste of it!” Beakley yelled after him.

Duckworth poked his head back into the room, “Oh look, something you and miss Lena agree on!”

“See, even Duckworth agrees!” Louie said, dangerously smug as he was now just adding fuel to the fire.

“Fine! Go off, fly across the globe, or whatever, I still think you are insane! You know what, I’m going to get the kids to leave right away! No chance they are being roped into whatever this is! When this plan blows into your faces don’t call me to save your sorry butts out of trouble! Now, since Duckworth is playing chess and I have a trip to execute, I believe you three can take care of the dishes!”

The three ducks looked as she stormed out of the room. 

“Oh Bentina,” Scrooge said, “I can’t even say I blame her. Goldie and I have been through a lot, to say the least.”

“You do trust her this time, do you?” Huey asked. 

“Yes,” Scrooge said, “You think I would be offering to take you off to an adventure that includes a mind-controlling item if I didn’t?” Scrooge asked, “Now, if that is settled, Louie, lad, If you are really up for an adventure, go pack. Huey, would you help me with the dishes?”

“How are we getting to the cave? If LP has a day off and mum’s leg’s been bugging her?” Louie got off his chair, waking to the kitchen door.

“Goldie has a jet; we’re meeting with her at an airport at 10 o’clock. Now, Bentina is taking the train, so I hope Donald won’t mind if I borrow his car. I haven’t driven in a long time, not going to try my hand at it again with a limousine…”

…..

In Webby’s room, she and Dewey were emphatically discussing what their plans for the fair were. 

“I know I already spoke about her a million times, Webby squeed, but Mrs. Fiona Furrington, a traveling book collector is going to be there and-”

“She is selling the most amazing collection of poems you need to get for Vi!” Dewey said, sounding equally as excited for Webby as he was for what he continued talking about, “And I can’t wait to get my hands on those old action figures! And I need to get LP a birthday present! What can be better than getting a DW stan a vintage DW item!”

“Man, will we have enough money?” Webby wondered. Sure, they were family members of the richest duck in the world. Said man was her father. But he was also a firm believer in limited allowance. So, the kids had to be careful with their spending. 

“I’m sure everyone will just give up when they see your grandma!” Dewey said, “who would dare to face her in a price-off!”

“Dewey, we are going in disguises, nobody will know it’s her.”

“Yeah, yeah, hiding our identities because complications of being McDuck heirs and more well known, especially currently, than the president of the US, yadda, yadda, yadda… Still, you would need one hell of a disguise to hide Mrs. Beakley’s glare!”

“I just wish that everyone went with us! I mean, this is not some huge adventure or something, but it would be so amazing, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah, especially if Uncle Donald were here!”

”Yeah, I miss big family adventures! Us four, uncle Donald, Della, Uncle Scroo- I, I mean dad, dad, yeah…ummm…” Webby wandered off as she always did when she mixed the titles up. Which happened. A lot. Why was it so difficult to just make that change?

“Oh, have I told you about that medieval weapons seller?” She knew her topic change was sudden and about as subtle as a punch in the face, but she couldn’t help it. She disliked the weird feeling she got in her gut every time she started thinking too much about the huge life revelation, she had two months ago. So, she just tried not to think about it, hoping the weird feeling would go away. She could only hope Dewey would not poke too much. 

Thankfully, the boy took the bait, “Probably,” he said, but Webby noticed him eying her slightly, “But you told me about so many that it bears repeating!” he exclaimed. Webby could still tell that, mixed in with his genuine eagerness, there was a bit of an unspoken question about her awkwardness. But she decided to take what she could get. 

He would eventually forget about her little blunder, and they would go on with the day as normal. No weird conversations needed. 

Like the ones her granny seemed to think they needed. Every time the two were alone, the older woman would get that serious talk kind of look in her eyes. Webby really didn’t need to talk. They talked everything out in those first few days after the not-so-last adventure. There was no need for long talks and discussions, mostly because there was nothing to discuss. Her granny, was, despite everything, still her granny. And if she was still a bit angry…

She wasn’t supposed to be. You shouldn’t be resentful of your family, Webby knew that. Well, the family that was kind at least. And her granny was. 

But, in addition to the weird feeling in her gut she would sometimes get in her belly when referring to Scrooge as ‘dad’, there was a weird feeling about her grandma. Bitter feeling. Not a nice feeling. 

She just had to wait for that feeling to go away and then she would be able to talk to grandma freely. Not that they didn’t talk, of course, they did. They just didn’t talk about F.O.W.L. Or cloning. Or Webby’s childhood, because every time either of them mentioned it, the weird, bitter feeling would be back. Even mentioning May and June could sometimes cause it to occur. 

She didn’t like being angry or mistrustful or-

NO! 

She wasn’t angry. She trusted her grandma. She couldn’t think like that. She wasn’t angry. Not anymore. No way in hell. 

“Ok, so,” she started her ramble on the medieval weapons seller but was interrupted by a knock on the door. “Give me a sec,” webby skipped over to the door, “Oh granny,” she said as Mrs. Beakley walked in.

“Are you two ready for the trip?” she asked. She didn’t sound angry, but she did sound urgent.

“Um, we’ve both been packed for two days now,” Webby answered, “You know how excited we are!”

“Good, take your things, we’re leaving immediately. Be in the lobby in ten minutes. Your-um, Scrooge is going to drive me crazy!” she shut the door behind her. 

“Ok, that was weird,” Dewey said, “Oh, you think she found out about that trip with Goldie Scrooge told us about yesterday?”

“Yup, most likely. Oh, if only I could go see the Candelabra of Influence...but no, no, no, we’re going to the fair!” No, nope. she wasn’t bitter that she wasn’t going on the first big adventure since the not-so-last adventure. No way!

“That’s right! Besides the path will be free again in, how much is again?” Dewey’s question pulled her out of her spiraling thoughts. 

“27 years and 4 months!” 

“That is a VERY specific number! But we’ll be there in 27 years and 4 months! As adult explorers!”

“Aw, you really mean that?” Webby asked him tilting her head, her heart warm.

“Yuh-uh! would I joke about that sort of stuff? We will go look for the candelabra together next time, cross my heart and hope to die!” he said enthusiastically, “Now come on, let’s get ready! A lot of cool stuff awaits us at the fair! To the shopping adventure!”

“The shopping adventure!” Webby exclaimed with him. as she was leaving the room, she glanced back. For some reason, this “adventure” felt different than others. Probably because it was the first time they were leaving the city since the not-so-last adventure, aside from a few trips to St Canard, and one to Cape Suzette. 

This was the first actual adventure, not a planned visit to friends.

Maybe that was exactly what she needed for the uneasiness, the weird bitter feeling she hated. It must be nothing, right? Maybe she just needed an adventure?

But then, why was the feeling always connected to granny and dad.

I must be imagining things , she had to herself for gods know which time, I love both of them, why would I feel uneasy about them? They probably just remind me of adventures the most and I haven’t had an adventure in a while, so now I’ll leave it all behind! Yeah, and once we get back, things will be as easy as they were back before F.O.W.L., just a bit different! 

“You think Mrs. Beakley is going to let us bargain for some items ourselves?” Dewey asked as he was checking his bag for the final time “I want to try it again…”

“Well, considering what happened last time….”

3 WEEKS EARLIER

There was a small, local antique fair near the docks. More of a glorified yard sale than anything, with a bunch of people who gathered around to sell and buy random items they had at home. The theme was, supposedly, geek auction but plenty of regular items could be found as well. Such as old garden hoses. Or sets of candled. Or old glasses.

Dewey and Webby, who were already planning their trip at that point, decided that they should have their hands at a smaller fair first, so Della took them, along with June who decided to join out of curiosity, to the docks. After a while of looking through the items, the auction was about to start.

“Ok, so Webby, you saw that model of great-sword and a crossbow at table three, Dewey saw an item at table four, June, how about you sweetie?” Della turned to the kids. 

“Oh, I’m still looking....” June said, self-consciously. 

“Well, look quicker, it’s about to start!” Dewey jumped in, “We have to start bargaining quickly, I don’t want to lose out! I’m getting that comic, thank you very much!” 

“Ok!” Webby breathed out, as the group of people gathered around table three, “ok, Webby, just focus. The way Granny and Louie taught you!”

3 minutes later Webby appeared empty-handed. 

“What was that?” Dewey asked, “You could have easily gotten that thing! Come on, he told you 50$! You got 40 on you!”

Webby buried her face in her hands, “I don’t know!”

“I assumed you were going to like, beat him at his own game and be like, ‘I’m giving you 40 my final offer!’ and he would be like ‘Gee kid, you got some skills and conviction, here is your sword model’!”

“Me too, but it just seems mean to get the sword for that little! I mean, he might really need the money! Or maybe someone else wants it, or I don’t know, something!”

Dewey looked at her flatly, “Webby, We all love your heart and kindness but that guy has 2000$ sneakers! I think he would be fine if you lowered the price for 10$!”

“Yeah, someone just got it for 30.” June stated. 

“OH COME ON!” Webby cried, “Ugh! I’m an embarrassment to my name…”

“Ok, ok, kids, calm down!” Della jumped in, “It was a good first try. Just be a bit more assertive next time, be very Webby ! Like when you want to read a book at a library that a librarian deems inappropriate, ok?”

“But what if someone wants it more than me?” Webby wondered. 

“Well, what if you wanted it more than him? But let’s not dwell on this, amazing first try, execution could use some work, you’ll know what to do next time, right? Oh, Dewey, I think someone is eying that comic of yours, so go get it before him!”

“Oh, oh oh, I’m going!” Dewey pushed his way in the front, “How much for the comic?” he asked the seller. Another person pushed next to Dewey at that moment. 

“Whatever the kid is offering,” a tall, gray goose in a red scarf said, “I’m offering more!”

“Well, I’m offering a 100$! Final deal!” Dewey suddenly shouted, all eyes turning to him. 

The seller, clearly taken aback, looked at him, “Um, well…kid, are you sure, I mean, you said final deal…”

“AUUUUUUU!” Della suddenly yelped, and now all the heads turned from Dewey to his mum, as she was clutching her bad leg, “man, what is this now!”

“Mum?”

“Della, are you alright?” June asked, visibly distraught. 

“No, cramp, cramp in my leg, ouch, ouch!”

Webby, who was the first one to realize what Della was doing took the bait, “Oh no, Della, let us take you over there, to that bench. Did you forget your anti-cramp cream today?”

“Must’ve” Della said, allowing the kids to help her limp over to the bench. 

“Wait, so, um, about that final deal? Well frick!” the seller said as the group left, realizing he was not going to get his 100$ after all. “So, how much are you offering?” he asked the gray goose.

As Della said on the bench, she made a show of taking her leg off,

“Della are you all right, should I call Donald or-wait, were you faking it?” June asked, realizing Della wasn’t wincing with pain anymore.

“Yes, yes I was, sorry to worry you,” Della said with an apologetic smile, taking out a tube of ‘anti-cramp lotion’ which was just regular hand lotion, and rubbing it on her residual limb, “really didn’t mean to scare you!” 

“So you are fine?” Dewey asked, “good, that is good. Also sorry. And thank you. I do not have a 100$ on me. I….over reached a bit….” he scratched his neck. 

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Oh my, sorry, I should’ve paid for it! Shit, wait, don’t tell Donald I said that word in front of you June- if you wanted it…”

“No, no mum it’s fine! We may be rich, but we are not stupid. Well, the jury still out on me about that one…”

“Hey, nuh-uh, no such talk in front of me, all right!” Della said sternly. “You made a misstep, just remember for next time, determination and assertiveness but also that slow and steady wins the race, got it? And you will be golden!” she patted Dewey on the head affectionately. “However, now it’s June’s turn. That is if you want to give it a go.”

“Um, really?” her eyes shone, “It’s just, I was never really given many independent tasks before at, you know…so…”

“So this will be your chance, come on! You can do it!” Della said reassuringly.

“And even if you mess up, you can’t do worse than me and Webby!” Dewey said, and Webby smiled encouragingly. 

So June went forward and with surprising assertiveness, managed to score a nice mug she believed May would like. 

Then she went for a pair of hair bows for herself but when she said final deal she realized she was 2$ short. 

“Oh, um, can we, like cancel or…” she stumbled upon her words in front of the rather mean-looking seller. 

“Kid, you said final deal ! You know what that means, do you want me to call security?”

“No! NO! Please…” June looked at the woman with panicked eyes.

“Whoa, whoa, wait just a minute!” Della suddenly appeared behind June, “Security over two bucks?”

“She said final deal! That is, well, a deal! Also, I know you got money, McDucks!”

“Yes, ok, fine! But is this the way?”

“Are you teaching the kid to steal?”

“I don’t want to steal!” June bellowed.

Della put a hand on her shoulder, “Of course you don’t, sweetie.”

“The kid needs lo learn some maths and-”

“Oh my god, like you never missed a few coins when in hurry! No need to scare my niece over that! Here!” Della practically threw a five-dollar bill into the woman’s face, “You can even keep the change, Karen!”

“Um, that is not my name!” the woman said as Della grabbed the hair bows and ushered June away.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I counted wrong, oh it’s such a stupid mistake to make and-“

“Hey, hey, It’s all right,” Della crouched in front of June, whose eyes were already glistening, “Oh, no, no sweetie, don’ be upset over this.” she gently wiped a tear that rolled down June’s face.

“Sorry…”

“No, June, listen I meant you don’t have to feel bad for making a mistake ok? It happens to everyone,” she leaned in closer, “it even happened to Uncle Scrooge once, but he will deny it to no end,” she said in a conspiratory tone, making the girl giggle. “And besides, you did amazing!”

“Yeah, you managed to get two items! And who cares about that stupid Karen!” Dewey said. 

“Ok, why do you keep calling her Karen if she said that is not her name?” June asked, already feeling better.

“Well, June,” Dewey started, “let me introduce you to modern slang…”

Webby snapped back from the memory, the reasons why she and Dewey required assistance with their auction adventures and why her younger sister would probably be quite helpful at this shopping trip. 

“I’m still in disbelief that June was the only one to win something that day! Two items even, while we were…”

“Utter and complete failures?” Webby suggested.

“Hey, don’t say that! Firstly, we need to cut ourselves some slack, we are really excitable. Secondly, it was our first time doing that! And thirdly, please don’t say you are going to trigger mum’s sixth sense and she is going to burst in here with an inspiring speech!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

“Speaking of June, have you heard from her and May?”

“We haven’t spoken since the day before yesterday,” Webby answered, “Should call them once we get to the hotel,” she said, making a mental note to do just that.

“Yup! And I want to talk to Uncle Donald and Daisy! And- Uh-oh, it’s been 8 minutes since your grandma told us to be there in ten! We should get going!”

“Yes, we probably should,” Webby said. Her mind was a bit more at ease now. She would spend two days at the best fair in the state with her granny and Dewey, she was going to talk to May and June and Daisy and Donald in the evening. 

Maybe, she could even pick a few items for the two girls and give those to them once they returned, their return being planned for the time around Christmas. There was no reason for the uneasiness she felt earlier that day, everything would be fine. She was going to have a great time and nothing was going to stop her from that.

Chapter Text

Scrooge parked Donald’s car at the airport parking lot. They made a few heads turn as the people walking around saw the richest duck in the world exit out of an old green hatchback. 

“Oh, quit yer staring,” he muttered at one woman who couldn’t get her eyes off them, “have you never seen a man park a car before!”

“Whoa, Scrooge McDuck refusing attention, who would’ve thought?” 

“Goldie,” Scrooge said in a tone that was half adoration and half exasperation. The fact she managed to get under his skin in a matter of seconds spoke volumes, “if that wasn’t a pot calling the kettle black, I don’t know what is!” He turned around to face the woman. 

She wore her usual adventure outfit, but her hair was loose and she had her sunglasses on. 

“Are you calling me an attention hog, Scroogey? I’m offended,” She teased, looking over her sunglasses, “Where’d you even get that old thing? I know you are the cheapest duck in the world but come on, you can afford a nicer car!”

“It’s Donald’s,” Scrooge replied, “my driver has a day off and there is no point in me taking the limo here. Besides, the ticket for limo parking space is much more expensive!”

“Scrooge McDuck, driving himself and paying for two days’ worth of parking instead of having his driver just drop him off, for free, just because said man has a day off? If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were a clone of yourself!”

Scrooge winced, “Please, cloning is...a bit of a touchy subject these days. Besides, Launchpad deserves a day off. The lad keeps himself awfully busy these days.”

“If you want to know, he was ranting about parking prices the whole way here,” Louie said, finally slipping out of the car. “And I do mean ranting . Half of it I didn’t even get, unlike Webby I don’t speak Scottish Gaelic.”

“Well, hello Sharpie! Only one tag-along this time,” she looked between them, “I’m surprised. Where are your more adventure-prone family members?”

“Mum has leg issues, Dewey and Webby are on that fair at Spoonerville and Huey has boring nerd stuff to do.”

“How come you didn’t go to the fair, sounds like your scene?”

“Eh, it’s an annual thing, I can always go the next year. I wanted a lazy day but changed my mind later,” Louie said, trying to seem casual, but there was clearly more to it. Scrooge looked at Goldie knowingly, but she ignored him.

“Those two could use you there,” she said to Louie instead, “I can see Pink Bow being somewhat decent at bargaining, but not Bluey.”

“They’re both horrible at it. Mrs. Beakley is going with them.”

“Well, now I’m glad I decided to skip it as well. Last time the two of us had an encounter that didn’t happen right after saving the world, things didn’t go that well!”

“You mean that time you packed Bentina and Webby into a wardrobe?” Scrooge asked with a small frown. The Golden Lagoon of White Agony Plains was still a somewhat sore subject, but he reached a point where he could quip about it. Neither Bentina nor Webby were harmed, which helped immensely. He still wasn’t happy Goldie tied his housekeeper and daughter up.

“Well, no. Though that one could also count. I was referring to that time we met at the very Spoonerville fair she is currently attending. You know, me just innocently bargaining until your trigger-happy housekeeper decided to interrupt?”

“Ah, the time the two of you almost cause the secret service to get involved, I remember that!” Scrooge chuckled at the memory. “I will give you this, Bentina was a bit trigger-happy that day!”

“You...what?” Louie asked, “wait, why am I surprised. But I need that story now!”

“Oh, trust me, lad,” Scrooge patted him on the shoulder, “those two have a history that is nearly as interesting as our own!”

“Now, Scroogey, you’re hurting my heart, we both know we have a much, much more interesting history than me and 22!” she looked at him and Scrooge, despite himself, blushed. 

“Ok, eugh, old people romance! Worse, old people that I know romance!” Louie complained, “Can we get a move on, which gate or however this works with private jets and airports are we going to, Aunt Goldie?” 

It was obvious Goldie was slightly caught off guard by the title. At least it was obvious to Scrooge, someone who didn’t know her would likely miss the momentarily stunned expression, which quickly morphed back into her typical smirk. He looked at her pointedly but she avoided his eyes.

“Just, go in that direction,” she pointed to her left, “you can’t miss it! Come on, Scrooge,” She said as Louie walked in the direction she pointed to, “he may not be able to miss my jet, but he can still get lost!”

Scrooge, who checked the lock of the car one last time, smirked at her, “All right, all right I’m coming. Aunt Goldie.” He just couldn’t let this one go.

“Ugh, first of, no, don’t, sound so wrong from your mouth! Secondly, what of it, a nickname is a nickname!” she said, still not looking at him. 

“Just a nickname, eh? I think it’s more of a title,” he said knowingly. 

“It’s probably just an old habit.”

“An old habit? From the one scheme you two pulled off together?” Scrooge leaned towards her, not relenting. “I’ll have you know that boy is not that quick on picking up habits. Unless he really wants to!”

“Oh, shove off, you’re making this into a way bigger deal than it is!” she pushed him away lightly, but he seemed unbothered.

“You don’t seem bothered he calls you that, though, a bit surprised, but not bothered,” Scrooge said in a somewhat softer tone. 

Goldie stopped walking, remaining quiet for a second, “I can’t say I am,” she finally said with a small, almost wistful, smile. A moment later, she shook her head off, putting her sunglasses back, “Now come along, we have a departure time to hit and the flight control won’t wait for us.”

Scrooge followed her. Beakley was right, there was a lot of history and quite a bit of bad blood between them. But this trip already felt different. At no point did he feel even the slightest need to look over his shoulder or check his pockets (he did regardless, everything was still where it should’ve been).  

Plus, the way Louie and Goldie interacted was meaningful. Both tried to hide it under the façade of nonchalance, and he couldn’t blame them. The world knew he himself wasn’t the most emotionally open person on the globe, but he knew both well enough to know that beneath all their banter, there was a bond. The trip they were taking may have had some heavy emotions tied to it, but he was more than ready to give that story a new, better, happier ending.

….

At the Duckburg train station, the 8:30 Spoonerville Express arrived. A large number of people, a lot of history enthusiasts, boarded the train, to the chagrin of the usual passengers who hated to deal with the additional crowd. The space was buzzing with the mix of nervous and excited energy, with the history nerds discussing their interests between themselves and the regular commuters grumbling about the nerds. 

Webby and Dewey themselves were bursting with energy, unbothered by the mass of people, and ignoring the looks they attracted as McDuck heirs, and grumbles they got from the disgruntled passengers annoyed by overly-excited children. 

As they boarded, Webby and Dewey looked around themselves as if they were on the most exciting adventure in their lifetime. 

“I can’t remember when was the last time, I was on a train, this is exciting!” Dewey said. 

“Technically, you are on the train every time you ride the metro,” Mrs. Beakley countered.

“That doesn’t count. Also, I very rarely take the subway, Uncle Donald claims it is dangerous,” he pouted.

“I agree with him, it wouldn’t be my first choice of public transport for children, that is certain. Especially without adult chaperones.” Mrs. Beakley said.

“So, granny, can we go get train snacks?” Webby asked, taking in every detail of the train, from the dark blue carpet to the old, broken-down window locks.

“Yeah, I want a full train experience!” Dewey added, “the compartments, the restaurant cart, it’s a pity this isn’t a night ride so I can’t sleep on the train. Or experience the sleeping car! But the train restaurant will suffice! And train snacks!”

“No snacks,” Mrs. Beakley said, “but once the conductor gets our tickets you can each go get a drink. Now let’s grab ourselves a compartment before we have to cram with random people.”

“But random people can be exciting!” Webby said.

“Maybe we will see someone famous!”

“On 9 AM Duckburg-Spoonerville Express line? doubt it.” Mrs. Beakley said, “Most of the people here are either workers on their commute or history enthusiasts like ourselves. And while random people can be exciting, they can also bore one to death.”

“True, true,” Dewey agreed, “one time Uncle Donald managed to save enough money for bus tickets to New Quackmore. But he got that last-minute deal, so we all ended up sitting separately, The guy next to me wouldn’t shut up about different types of plates. Like, dude, I’m glad you have your interests, but come on ! Never in my life have I missed Huey’s Duckburg bark beetle rambles. Or wished for Louie’s ability to fall asleep wherever.”

“Or we could end up with a murderer! Like in the Eastern express ! Granted, they would have a very, very hard time doing any damage to us and we would probably simply discover their plans. Oh my, what if we end up solving a murder mystery! No, that is way too dark, I don’t want that! Maybe like there is an international jewelry thief on the train and-oh, sorry, I’m rambling!”

Mrs. Beakly let out a small laugh, “I have to say, the scenario Dewey suggested is much more likely. But we don’t want to end up with a person boring us about plates, though they can be an interesting subject or an international criminal. Therefore, off you go!” she shooed them down the aisle.  

“Empty!” Dewey called from down the aisle, opening the door to a compartment, “Oh my, this is like on Hornwards Express! Except, we’re not going to a magic school but to a fair which, considering how much I dislike studying is not that bad!”

“And we can study magic at home, anyways!” Webby added, “and hang out with whoever is not magically inclined. I mean, imagine if Lena was gone for nine months every year!”

“You assume we would be muggles?”

“I don’t know,” Webby shrugged, “but I like it better this way. Also, do you realize their school doesn’t teach English? Or any foreign languages? Or maths!”

“Could live without math!”

“Could you do without the internet as well?” Mrs. Beakley joined the conversation.

“Oh my god, you are right! And no video games! No video calls with Uncle Donald! Wait, we would be away from all of you! Yeah, ok, I’ll take maths if it means I get to keep all that. Man, why do you two have to ruin stuff for me!”

“We’re not ruining stuff for you,” Webby threw her arm around his shoulder, “we are just pointing out how cool real stuff can be.”

“Thanks,” Dewey said, his thoughts drifting off. 

He missed uncle Donald. A lot. More than he expected he would. They all did. Waking up each morning and not seeing the houseboat in the pool was a strange sight even though it has been two weeks since he, Daisy, May, and June left for their trip. 

He even missed May and June, much more than he expected than he would after such a short period of time knowing them. He knew Webby missed them even more. 

The family of four leaving only six weeks after the battle against F.O.W.L. was a result of several factors, but most notably weather. Even as Uncle Donald owed Poseidon himself a few favors (how, why, and what for remained a mystery) traveling through the Atlantic in the middle of winter would not be a wise decision. 

So, Uncle Donald left. Dewey knew he wasn’t leaving him, of his brothers, specifically. But there were still moments he felt that way. Thankfully, those moments were brief, helped by the fact that every time they would talk via video chat, Donald would call a few minutes early. He would always say he couldn’t wait to see the kids again. They would spend hours talking, Donald even disregarding their bedtime, telling each other everything, from actual big events that happened, to simply discussing what they had for lunch. 

At first, he felt mild resentment towards May and June. A feeling he hated, aware that the two were most certainly not at fault. It wasn’t like they were trying to take Uncle Donald away. In fact, they were as surprised as everyone else when Donald said that they would be leaving in only six weeks. He started to see the girls like family, no question about it, there was just that small pang of uncomfortable feelings surrounding them from time to time. 

But he knew that, with time, that feeling would go away. He talked about it, most often with mum or LP. And LP offered words of wisdom. Some would say surprising words of wisdom, but Dewey knew better because, how surprising can something be when it happens on a regular basis? Saying words of wisdom in regards to relationships of any kind from LP are surprising would be the same as saying Huey randomly saying a piece of trivia was surprising. 

“I spend more time with Drake and Gos now, right?” LP said, “That doesn’t mean we are any less of family or friends, or that they have replaced you, right? The same is with Donald. he still loves you the same, anyone can see that, he is just making more space for new people in his life.”

Still, Dewey couldn’t wait for December. Uncle Donald would be back from his trip in December, just in time for Christmas. The most adamant about it was Donald himself. the whole family will be back again.  It will be amazing! 

“..Dewey…hey?” someone snapped him out of his musings. 

“Huh?”

“Granny was asking us what are our shopping plans!” Webby said.

Dewey blinked, he realized the train had already left the station and they were now moving through a forest.

“Huh, weird,” he said, “I got lost in thoughts. Man, how long was I out since we’re already in the middle of nowhere?”

“Not long, it’s been about five minutes since we left. There is a reason this is called an Express. You haven’t missed much, just the conductor getting our tickets.”

“Yeah, I was thinking about Uncle Donald. I miss him,”

Mrs. Beakley offered him a warm smile, “I know. We can call him from the hotel. The signal here is a bit faulty. Now, I was just asking Webby about your shopping plans?”

Dewey immediately perked up, “Ok, so, something for me, a gift for Drake from LP since he gave me cash. Something for Huey and Louie, of course, I’ll get uncle Donald and mum something!”

“And I’m getting something for May, June, Vi, and Lena!”

“Who are we forgetting?” Dewey wondered, “ah, right, Daisy and B.O.Y.D. Oh, and Gos! You know, we should really ask our allowances to be adjusted based on the size of our extended family. Come on, on Christmas, I’ll be broke! And I live in the mansion!”

“Considering the number of people, you just listed, you will have zero dollars in your piggy banks by the end of the day,” Mrs. Beakley said.

“Well, I guess I could skip on the Master of Rings in old Sumerian this year…” Webby said sadly. 

“That will be my gift to you, then,” Mrs. Beakly said, “and whatever you wanted to get yourself, Dewey.”

“Really?” the two said in unison. 

“Of course, both of you more than deserved it. And if you need help with getting a gift for anyone, I’ll pitch in.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Webby bounced. “I really, really want that book!”

“I don’t know exactly what I want but I’ll know when I see it!” Dewey said, a wide grin on his face.

“Well, now that that is settled, how about we go for some cocoa. Due to us leaving earlier than planned, you didn’t get your cocoa at home, so it’s only fair.”

“Can we get those fluffy croissants as well?” Dewey asked.

“Fine, one croissant each!”

“And what is Uncle Scrooge planning that got you so worked up-“ Dewey got his beak closed shut by Mrs. Beakley’s hand. 

“We can talk about that after I get my tea. Hopefully, they have the good kind.”

“Ok…” Dewey said. Whatever Uncle Scrooge did seemed to annoy Beakley more than even the triplets with their shenanigans.

“Now come along,” Mrs. Beakly said, “there will be a line. I don’t want us to reach Spoonerville by the time we get to our drinks.”

“Wow, this train really is an express !” Dewey commented as he followed her and Webby out of their compartment, Webby having closed the curtains to signal passengers going through the aisle that the compartment is occupied. 

“You know what that means?” Webby said, “more time to look before they open the fair for real tomorrow!”

“Oh no, more time for my indecision to kick in! You know what, maybe it’s not so bad we’re on a budget, it will be easier to pick stuff with that limit! Like, if something is 200$, HA, I know I can’t get it because I can’t spend that much on ONE item!”  

…..

“Whoa!” Louie exclaimed as he and Scrooge walked towards Goldie’s plane, “That is a  nice plane !” he took in the sleek, private jet in front of him. It wasn’t the biggest one there, but most certainly the nicest. Golden decorative lines on the outside of the fuselage and the edges of the wings justified its name.

“What did you expect Sharpie?” Goldie asked as she approached them, “An old propeller-powered biplane? Or a cargo-plane monstrosity like the one Scrooge here owns?” she teased. 

“That monstrosity got me out of quite a few scrapes. You as well, in a couple of instances, if memory serves…”

“Oh, shut up, at least I can name a plane, not switch between two names based on who pilots it!”

“That’s between Della, Launchpad, and the plane. They can call it Big red tin can for all I care as long as they get me to where I need to go. And really, The Golden Bird ? A bit on the nose, isn’t it?”

“You’ll change the tune when you see it from the inside,” Goldie smiled, “At least Sharpie here knows how to appreciate it!” she said, taking in Louie’s amazed expression. 

“Appreciate it? It’s more than that, now I know how I’m spending my first million!”

Goldie laughed, “You’re going to need a bit more than a million.”

“Fine, then first ten million!” 

“Lad, you should save your first million, not spend it on planes!”

“Says a man with a plane. And a rocket. And a submarine.” Louie said bluntly. “You know for someone who preaches frugality and stuff, you have quite a lot of things, weird spending habits. Remember, I saw it all at one point.” He rushed to the plane stairs, taking in every detail of the aircraft.

“He’s got you there, Scrooge,” Goldie said with amusement, while Scrooge frowned.

“Curse me kilts, this trip is going to be dismal if you two decide to gang up upon me!” Scrooge muttered, but there was no bite to his words. 

“Oh, Aunt Goldie and I could wipe the floor with you!” Louie looking over his shoulder as he ascended the stairs. 

“I’d like to see you try,” Scrooge said, even as he knew that was just asking for trouble. 

“Beware, Scrooge, you just gave us a challenge,” Goldie said, “Now where in the world is the pilot and whoever in the world he got as the copilot?”

“Two pilots and you don’t even know the second one? A bit risky move there, Goldie.”

“Eh,” she shrugged, “the captain and I have been working together for a while. I trust him not to go blabbering about my escapades not to go blabbing to officers or someone who might want the same things I do, like Glomgold. Or you,” she ignored Scrooge’s remark at being compared to Glomgold, “I pay him enough for that. However, I like to have two people who can fly me away at my disposal, just in case. 

“In case of what?”

“I don’t know, maybe a pilot hooking up with an Epsilon Airlines flight attendant, getting plastered and high, unable to fly in the morning while I have to escape a local gang-leader I managed to piss off!”

Scrooge merely blinked, “So, who did you get?”

“Well, my first officer quit yesterday, and I had some business to take care of, so I let the captain do the picking this time. I would’ve asked Della or that big oaf you employ,”

“Launchpad,”

“Yeah, yeah, him, but you said they’re both unavailable.”

“Launchpad is one thing, but asking Della to be a first officer and not a captain? Goldie, are you hearing yourself? That is asking for a war!”

“Well, just another reason to get….ok what the hell?” She lowered her sunglasses as the captain approached. The tall pelican was followed by a young scrawny raccoon who couldn’t be older than 20, both wearing the same uniform. 

“Well, I’m certain the lad is more than the first glance lets on,” Scrooge commented, “still, it’s not too late to give Launchpad a call. I can always give him an extra day off next week…”

“Miss O’Gilt,” the captain spoke, as he approached “and Mr. McDuck, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Dominic, I’ll be your captain this flight and this is Finnick, he is going to be my first officer for today.”

“Um, hi,” Finnick greeted, clearly a bit intimidated by the two larger-than-life people in front of him. “It’s truly an honour to meet, and to fly, both of you!” 

The boy seemed a bit jumpy but not the nervous wreck Scrooge was expecting. And he held himself with a level of professionalism and enthusiasm the Scotsman could appreciate.

“Nice to meet you too, lad,” scrooge said, his demeanour changing quickly, “just to make it clear, we are not your first flight, are we?” he asked half-jokingly. 

“No, sir, you are not. I know I look young, but I have over 2000 hours of flight under my belt even did some bush-flying with my grandpa. And plenty of solo flights as well.” he said, still clearly nervous but he didn’t lack in confidence. 

“That’s the spirit,” Scrooge encouraged.

“Now, we really should be moving on,” Daniel said, “we don’t want to lose the good flight conditions.” 

“Of course,” Scrooge nodded. 

“Shall we,” Goldie offered him her arm and she led him up the stairs to the plane cabin. cabin.

They found  Louie already lounging in one of the chairs, a can of Pep in his hand, looking absolutely at home in luxurious surroundings. 

“Enjoying yourself, Sharpie?” Goldie asked as she sat down in her chair, Scrooge soon joining her. 

“This is amazing! I admit, Sunchaser grew on me, but this is something else! It’s like a mix of a really fancy living room and a limo but in the air!”

“You got a refined taste, Sharpie,” Goldie commented. 

“Eh, offer him fancy food and you’ll see he’s just a typical American teenager in a lot of ways!” Scrooge smirked, remembering Louie’s reaction to French cheese. Or caviar. Or even shellfish.

“Hey, not my fault fancy food tastes awful! So, when are we departing?”

“We should be up in the air soon enough,” Goldie said, “So, Scrooge, opinion on the copilot?”

“The lad seems fine. Besides, I flew with pilots with way less than 2000 hours of flight experience, including his brother,” he pointed at Louie, “Also, Della when she was just starting.”

“Besides,” Louie cut into the conversation, “we fly all the time with the guy who literally crashes the plane every time. And we’re fine.” 

“Well, glad we all three agree for once,” Goldie said, “although, I hope that, in case Finnick is the one doing the landing he doesn’t crash!”

“Fair enough. Especially since LP pretty much made an entire artform out crashing. He knows how to crash right . Others…not so much,” he blinked, remembering Dewey’s first crash at the F.O.W.L. base. “You know what, let’s talk about something else, literally anything else.”

“How about we go over our plan once again. Especially as now we have a tag along. Did your uncle tell you everything?”

“Nope!” Louie sank deeper into his chair, “Ok, even if I somehow don’t earn a million, I’m getting a chair like this! Most comfortable chair ever!”

“So, he hasn’t told you about the dragon?”

“You know, I feel like I should be upset he failed to mention it, or at least surprised but I’m so relaxed right now. Also completely used to it. Like, I hear about some dragon or another every other week. ”

“I think it’s about time I give you more information about this trip, Louie,” Scrooge said. “The Candelabra of Influence, one of the few artifacts both Goldie and I more than agree should stay where it is.”

“Then why are we going to look at it?”

“Curiosity sake,” Scrooge said,

“The thrill,” Goldie answered simply. 

“That too.” Scrooge had to agree with her, “now there is a cave, deep into the Rocky Mountains, where it is held. Guarded by a, well for a lack of a better word let’s say a dragon. The creature allegedly feels one’s intent going towards it. So, if you want to reach it and use it for your own purposes, he will attack. However, since we are not doing that, we should be fine!”

“Ok, let’s just address the elephant in the room,” Louie straightened somewhat in his chair, “You are both known for taking treasures with you, right? For the money, collecting sake, whatever, so, why leave this artifact there? I mean, come on, you find a cursed gem, you take a cursed gem. A statue that comes alive and kills you if exposed to the sun at 5 P.M. on a Saturday? Take that bad boy with you! And while I have no Idea what Goldie does with her treasures; we keep so many dangerous items in the garage that a nuclear reactor can be considered safe by comparison!”

“Well, the thing with those is that most are physical threats. Ones that can be stopped with wit, skill. and often, for example with the Gauntlet of Medusa which you used yourself, you have to get close to the target to do some damage.”

“The Candelabra,” Goldie took over from Scrooge, “well, the name is a bit misleading. You want to be really on the nose? Call it the Candelabra of Mind Control. Now, nobody knows exactly how it works because few have been under its influence and lived to tell the tale. 

“Also, it would have been hundreds of years ago, so the records, if they have ever existed, are now lost to time. But few that exist claim that the influenced experience a level of amnesia, so they can’t tell how it works and thus nobody knows how to defend yourself from it!”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, when it comes to mind control. Some items simply override your thoughts, let’s say you want to drink that pep, but someone makes you go and attack Scrooge or me, places those ideas in your mind.”

“Yeah, and that is, you could say, the easiest one to defend from. Since it’s rather easy to chase those thoughts away, especially if what you are being ordered goes against your wishes or motives. But there are others, items that dip into everyone’s basic need and wish to have life be easy, those things whisper in yer ear, saying just relax, let go, everything will be fine.”

“Like some sort of a magic drug?” Louie said. 

“Exactly.”

“Ok, so which one is the Candelabra?”

“As we said, nobody knows,”

“But that is not the most dangerous one either,” Scrooge continued, “aside from those items that put your mind to sleep and simply use you as a flesh puppet,”

“Eugh, the mental image…”

“.... there are items that dip into your darker thoughts, ideas you would never actually go through. Items of this type will the user of the mind-control item see them and use those against you.”

“So, let’s say that there is a pile of gold, and I really want that pile of gold, but I know something bad will happen if I get it, item like that would make me go get it?”

“Yes, and then the user would probably make you asleep, or something worse, and take the gold for themselves.”

“I may be a lot of things, but I’m not someone who wishes free will be taken from anyone,” Goldie said, “and besides, there is no guarantee that were I to take the item someone wouldn’t steal it from me and use it against me. And as a fan of my personal free will, I can’t have that!”

“Good thing is, the dragon will sense this, He sensed those 54 years ago, so he is most certainly going to sense it now, after, well everything that has happened.”

Goldie gave him a semi annoyed look. He knew how much she was miffed at the slightest implication she went soft but it was an undeniable fact.

“Ok, so, we are going to check out the item that may doom the world guarded by an angry dragon or whatever, that may fry or eat us, probably both in that order. why did I come to this expedition exactly? Also, what the hell did happen on your last trip there?”

“Well, that is a long story….” Scrooge said. 

“Look, I know there is probably some kind of big emotional moment when, I don’t know, you left him or you left her or something, but I want to know if there is a chance you two pissed of that dragon enough to make me seriously consider staying here and playing cards with the pilots while you two go risk getting eaten by the pissed of dragon. I don’t want to be murdered by association.”

“All right, fine, you have a right to know considering the situation”

“I guess we owe you the story, Sharpie,”

“Wait!” Louie got up, went to the snack shelf, and got himself a bag of fancy popcorn, “Ok, I’m ready now. And please, keep it low on romance moments. I don’t have motion sickness or anything, I grew up on a boat, but those make me wanna hurl!”

“It all started 54 years ago,” Scrooge started.

“And eight months-”

“And eight months ago….”

Chapter Text

“I heard of the Candelabra years before and when the possibility of going to see it finally presented itself, I knew I had to go and take a look.” Scrooge started reminiscing, glancing through the plane window for a moment, then turning his attention back to Louie. “My curiosity had to be satisfied. But it was just curiosity. Just a peak, even in my younger, erm, more arrogant days I would have never removed it from where it stood. Now, back then, I was a solo adventurer. So, I packed my bags, hired a pilot, and went off.”

“Meanwhile, I heard of the infamous Candelabra and, well, I had to have that one on my roster. It was considered borderline impossible to get a glimpse of it in the circles that knew about it and managing to do so would do wonders for my reputation. Besides, who knew what other, not world-destroying treasures lied in that cave. I decided to trek up the Rocky Mountains myself. My adventure began. And then I noticed this old sourdough and decided to follow him.”

“Yes, letting me activate all the death traps, much of an adventurer are you!”

“Hey, I got you out of the one with the boulder about to crush you!”

“Only to push me off the hill two hours later!”

“You had the safety rope on! Besides, you are the one who tried to lure me into a pit trap!”

“Only because I knew you were going to trick me!”

“And I saved your life Scroogie! Saved you from that big-”

“Anywho,” Scrooge looked a bit embarrassed, and Louie wondered what, or who, exactly Goldie saved his great uncle from, “this went on for a while, our usual back-and-forth.”

“Your back and forth is very dangerous if I might note.” Louie said.

“Well, yes... but after a while, I think we both realized the other one won’t leave. So, we did what we usually did in these situations.”

“We made a deal! But I had to work really hard to convince him!”

“Yes, usually she would just appear to rob me blind, so excuse my reservations!”

“When you made it so easy, Scroogie,” she put her hand on his chest, gazing into his eyes and making him blush, only to then flick his top hat off, making it fall to the ground. 

“Hey, please, I asked you to keep old people romance light!”

“This is light, Sharpie!”

“Whatever, just, get back to the dragon and the candle!”

“ Candelabra, ” Scrooge said, picking his hat up and laying it into his lap “well, despite our previous encounter ending disastrously,” Scrooge said.

“That time he left me for dead!” Goldie complained.

“After you tried to steal my plane!” Scrooge countered.

“After you tried to take all treasure for yourself!” Goldie pointed her finger at him.

“Treasure I found!” He raised his arms in frustration.

“And I helped with the riddle, half was supposed to be mine!” she poked him in the chest, and he poked her back.

“Whoa, whoa, not that I don’t like you two reminiscing about some other adventure,” Louie sat up in his chair, drawing the attention of two adults caught in a poking fight, “but can we get back to the original story? The relevant one?”

“Right, right,” Scrooge said as Goldie poked him in the chest one last time, and pushed her hand away, “well, I still knew that this is the one thing I could trust Goldie with,”

“One thing? Scrooge, I’m insulted,” she put her hand over her heart in the feigned offence.

He gave her a side-eye, “May I remind you…”

She rolled her eyes, but smiled, “No, no, you’re right. Keep going.”

“Anyways, we had, erm, turbulent, history, filled with broken promised and knives to the back, but this was something I knew even Goldie wouldn’t mess with, so despite mild reservations, I decided to accept the deal. We go up if the dragon allows us to pass, we look at the object, and then we return to our homes.”

“Trouble started when we met the dragon. Now it didn’t fry us on the spot, which is apparent. This dragon is not the fire-and-brimstone type anyways. However, he was suspicious of us.”

“He still let us pass, but he kept a close eye at us, he warned us not to do, or plan, anything stupid.”

“Ok, so, let me guess, you two did, or planned, something stupid?”

“Oi, that is not a way to talk to your elders, lad!” Scrooge frowned.

“You’re denying doing anything stupid?” Louie smirked, looking between two somewhat flustered old adventurers, and Scrooge huffed, “Well, what happened then? I’m really, really wondering!” the boy asked with exaggerated innocence.

“What happened was that Goldie didn’t tell me her full intentions!” Scrooge turned his head to Goldie, glaring at her.

“And you were an open book?” she retorted, annoyed, but continued a bit more calmly, “I told you I assumed there are other treasures there. You could’ve very well assumed what I planned to do with those treasures!”

“And, well,” Scrooge looked away, “I did know what she was planning to do.We both assumed there were other treasures in that cave. And, well,” he suddenly seemed almost sheepish, “I may have planned to take those away from Goldie once she grabbed them,” he scratched the back of his neck, ”not me proudest moment there…even I was merely returning the favour for all the times she stole from me…” he said grumbly.

“Oh, as if you could ever rob me, sourdough.”

“Wow! You two were such nice  people back then!” Louie noted, earning somewhat displeased looks from Goldie and Scrooge. He sighed, “Let me guess, the dragon knew you were still lying so he chased you away?”

“Yup, and then…”

“We each ran off in the opposite reaction,” Goldie said, looking through the window.

“And then haven’t checked whether the other made it for the next three years,” Scrooge refused to meet Goldie’s eyes as well. 

“Wait, wait, wait, hold up,” Louie said, “you know, that whole story, that is typical for you two in the past. Finding treasure, wanting to steal the treasure, um, kind of betraying each other, yadda, yadda. Honestly, the way you two and Beakley acted, I’ve expected something worse. But are you telling me that we are going to walk into a literal dragon’s nest? And that the dragon who owns it was like “hey you’re chill” one moment only to try to eat you the other?”

“But he hadn’t.  First of he never said, we’re chill ,” Scrooge exaggerated the word, “He was suspicious of us from the moment we walked up the mountain, and he warned us, giving us enough time to back off. We didn’t do that, proceeding with our plans, thinking we’re invincible only for it to bite us. The karma, not the dragon. The dragon was very, very angry but he never harmed a feather on us,” Scrooge said, “we were just acting like ninny numbskulls, running away like that at the first sign of him attacking.”

“Ah, so you did something stupid, I knew it!”

“Well…”

“Speak for yourself, I had a plan!” Goldie said defensively.

“Great plan, stealing for a dragon…” Scrooge muttered.

“Yours was worse, stealing from me!”

Scrooge looked at her, peeved, and opened his beak to say something.

“Ok so...what, the worst that could happen is the dragon saying go away and then we just grab a drink instead of adventuring?” Louie asked before another fight ensued, “Why’d he even change his mind if you never intended to take the candle?”

“As Goldie said, she planned to steal his gold. Not the artifact he is tasked with guarding, but it’s still theft. And I can’t say that, in that regard, I was much better! We both acted dishonestly.”

“No, you were worse, you would let me do your dirty work and then you would claim the prize, excusing it as returning the favour !  You wouldn’t return the gold to the dragon, you’d keep it to yourself! All while acting like you hold moral superiority over me!” Goldie called him out. “At least I’m an honest thief, you were a downright hypocrite!”

“As I said, not me proudest moment….” He said solemnly. Then he took a deep breath, “But now we are 50 years older, wiser, and get along better,” he smiled at Goldie who smiled back, “I think we can pull it off.”

“And, I have no intention of stealing any gold from the dragon, even if he gathered some,” Goldie said.

“Really?” Louie asked, raising his eyebrow in disbelief.

“Kid, I treasure my own life and mind too much for that level of stupidity.”

“But we are still walking toward the dragon that was, at least at one point in time, pissed at you. Because you had, let’s say, gray-ish morals. You know what, if it turns out that I’m the only one who is innocent enough to go see that candle, I’m fine on this plane.”

“Oh don’t worry Sharpie, I don’t think this dragon is in the business of killing kids. And this isn’t some type of pure-of-heart object or creature!”

“ Pure-of-heart object or creature?”

“An umbrella term referring to items or creatures that require one pure-of-heart,” Scrooge explained.

“Ehem, I don’t think I apply there,” Louie scratched his neck, “I mean, yeah…”

“A pure of heart curse requires someone not excellent at scheming, Sharpie,” Goldie confirmed, winking at him, “You know those nerdy role-play games? Well, those creatures would be the most annoying type of lawful good!” Goldie said with a grimace.

“Wait, you think I’m excellent!” Louie looked as if Christmas came early.

“Don’t encourage him!” Scrooge protested.

“I’m just being supportive!” Goldie shrugged her shoulders theatrically.

“Of criminal behaviour!”

“You are dating a schemer, Srcoogie!” she smiled at him suggestively and Scrooge blushed.

“Hey, old people romance!” Louie complained, “I thought you said no flirting in front of children !” Louie remembered the first time he met Goldie. 

“Sharpie I think you have to learn the difference between, little romance and no romance Also, you are a teenager now, deal with it,” Goldie said, but she relented, leaning back in her seat. “What I was trying to say, nobody is saying you’re not a good person kid. I don’t think even our dear little Pink Bow could pass most of the pure-of-heart objects standards. Hell, you could be a total goodie-two-shoes, obeying traffic laws to a tee, never cursing, always leaving a tip, picking up other people’s litter, running three charities, volunteer 40 hours a week and knit sweaters for stray kittens and most would probably turn you away because you stole that one chocolate bar at age 14 and told your brother he was stupid.”

“Wow! A bunch of holier-than-though jerks then, huh?”

“Yes. But the guardian dragon is not like that,” Scrooge said, “he expects you to be honest with him, not to have a perfect record since you were born. And we weren’t honest, not with him and not with each other.”

“Well, I want to see the candle, but I can live without seeing it,” Louie started counting on his fingers, “If there is other treasure, I’ll be tempted but won’t take it because that would be idiotic. I think you were both idiots to ever try it,” this earned him disgruntled looks from both Scrooge and Goldie, “I really like this plane. I think that season 3 of Ottoman Empire is worse than 4, even though the fandom would crucify me for saying that. I wish there was some Cherry Pep here and I got to go pee! There, honest,” he shrugged got up, and walked towards the bathroom. “Oh and, if we see the candle, I totally plan to brag about it!”

“ Candelabra !” Scrooge called after him “if you’re going to brag, then brag right!”

“Only Scrooge McDuck gives his great-nephews lessons on bragging,” Goldie commented.

“There is a right and wrong way of doing everything, including bragging. And you’re the one teaching him scheming!” Scrooge retorted.

“Ah, I see, you can only brag if you brag in a factually completely correct way!” Goldie teased.

“I just don’t want him to make a fool out of himself. The lad is smart, smarter than he often lets on, I just want him to show it!”

“ Candle of Influence does sound like something you would get at an online MLM shop…” Goldie noted.

“All right, fine!” The heard Louie from the toilet, “I’ll say Candelabra from now on! Happy! ”

“Absolutely ecstatic!” Goldie said half-seriously.  

“Now, if you need me, I’ll be back here,” Loie walked out of the toilet and sat down in one of the seats at the back of the plane. “Just to get some Zs before you toss us to an indecisive dragon!” within seconds he was asleep to which Scrooge shook his head, bemused, while Goldie blinked in surprise.

“Catching up on sleep and right before an adventure? How is that child related to you?”

“He is Della’s son…”

“Yeah, that makes sense. “Goldie admitted, “so, what are we going to do for the rest of the trip? It is a four-hour flight after all?“

“Duckworth gave me the idea this morning, how about a game of chess?”

“Who in the hell is Duckworth playing chess with? If it'  22 then I hope you are prepared to find your manor levelled to the ground when you get back home...even I know those two can't stand each other...also I root for Duckworth.”

“No, no, not her. In fact, it's funny you should say, who in the hell as the person in question is Hades.”

“Ah yes, Scrooge McDuck, the 150 years old person whose ghost butler has casual chess matches with the God of Underworld, why am I even asking.”

“And also the one who has chess matches with, what, 140 years old Icequeen of Dawson.“

“You old cajoler, you know, I won't go easy on you just because of that? Actually, pointing out a lady’s age, where are your manners Scrooge?”

„Easy on me? Maybe we should flip the script and I should go easy on you!”

“You wouldn’t dare....” Goldie said while taking the chessboard from one of the compartments.

Scrooge chuckled, “Nah, of course not! What fun would that be? Would be an insult to us both! But beware, it's not easy to cheat in chess!”

“You think I can't do it?”

“You saying you can only win by cheating?”

“Perfectly valid way of gaining results!” she sat in front of him, taking a coin so they could do a toss to determine who will get to be white in the first match.

“Ah, so you are saying you can only win by cheating!” Scrooge challenged, as they both did a coin toss.

“I can win against you fair and square, Scroogie, I think we both know that!“ Ironically, she lost the coin toss at that moment, ending up with black pieces. Bothe arranged their respective pieces on the board.  

“Never thought I'd hear those words from you, O’Gilt. Well, bring your worse!” he said, already moving one of his pawns.

“You got it, old man!”

…..

“Your room is down the hall, children,” Mrs. Beakley handed Webby the key, “214, I hope I can leave you to your own while I unpack in mine?”

“Yes, granny!”

“Are we getting lunch here or somewhere else?” Dewey asked. His stomach rumbling.

“Elsewhere,” Mrs. Beakley answered, “I know I risk sounding like Scrooge but the prices here are outrageous. I’m not paying 15$ for an ordinary burger just because the restaurant is hotel-adjoined. Have an hour to relax, then we leave to grab lunch and then we go to the fair. I assume you still want to check out the items today, even if you still can’t buy anything?”

“Yes, yes!! Webby exclaimed, “I really want to-

“Sorry Webby, I’m hungry so the sooner the hour passes, the better,” Dewey interrupted her, “So, let’s go to the room so we can leave as soon as possible!” he grabbed Webby’s hand and ran down the hall.

“Don’t touch anything in the minibar!” Mrs Beakley yelled after them before Dewey rounded the corner, shouting something but she didn’t make out what. She hoped it was an affirmative answer.

Bentina unlocked the door and walked into the room. A double bed, a wardrobe and, right under the window a minibar and a small desk. Nothing too fancy, but they didn’t need much for a one-night stay. Instinctively, she scanned the layout of the room, looking for escape routes and possible traps, items that would help her in case of a fight and possible hindrances. She caught herself before proceeding to check for hidden microphones and cameras.

You are being paranoid, Bentina , she told herself, this is a two-day shopping trip with kids. Not a mission.

But her old spy habits were hard to get rid of. Taking in whatever space she found herself in, immediately looking it over for escape routes and possible hiding spaces came to her as naturally as breathing. It was like passing next to a sign written in a language you were able to read. It would be impossible not to read the letters.

No wonder since even her retirement was, if one removed nuance and emotions from it, a spy mission. She never looked at it that way, but she was in deep undercover, always on the lookout, never fully relaxed.  

She sat down on the bed. This was supposed to be a fun trip, the first sort of adventure after the battle against FOWL. Webby suggested it weeks in advance and at first, she assumed that everyone , at least the core of their family would come. But then Donald and Daisy left with their girls, Huey got involved with lab work, Della’s leg started acting up and three days earlier, when she was getting tickets for the train, Scrooge himself informed her he would not be attending because he had a trip planned with Goldie O’Gilt of all people.

Why did it feel like he trusted that woman more than her now?

She was aware that, if the secret she kept so close, was ever to be revealed, there would be consequences. So, she kept it closer.

First, to protect Webby, that was always first and most important reason. She came to Scrooge’s doorstep with the little bundle of joy in her arms and while he took them in, something she would be forever grateful for, he was also at the depths of his depression due to losing Della.

She didn’t know how a man who just lost his surrogate daughter and son in a single week would react to being a father to little Webby. There was a chance he would snap out of it and become caring to the child.

But the risk of Webby growing up knowing that the distant man in the upper room, one who wants little to do with her, is her father was too big. Better to grow up with a distant homeowner, grandma’s employer, a mysterious adventurer, than a distant father. The hurt was lesser.

And, even if having a daughter would pull Scrooge out of his misery, she didn’t want to put the burden of being his emotional anchor on the girl’s tiny shoulders.

So, she came up with a story for Scrooge and Duckworth.

Bentina truly had a daughter, Joan. And the young woman was an excellent artist. However, she wasn’t married and she didn’t have children. And she died, lost her life in a hurricane, only a few weeks before Bentina’s final mission. Bentina always suspected there was more to her daughter’s death, but she could never fully prove it. These parts of the story were true.

It hurt her immensely to use the tragedy and loss in such a dishonest way, but she convinced herself it was the only way. Joan had a daughter with that nice guy of hers , she said. Nobody knew of this, because both she and I agreed it was for the best for Joan and the little one to lay low . Bentina had plenty of enemies, having a daughter was liability enough, and Scrooge knew how afraid she was F.O.W.L. or some other villainous force would use Joan against her. It wasn’t a stretch to believe she hid the existence of her unhatched granddaughter for the same reason. However, now that Joan is…gone…there is nobody to look after the girl, so I have to step in and leave my position in S.H.U.S.H. For the little one’s safety.

Scrooge accepted the story, no questions asked. He even perked up for a few days after their arrival and Bentina allowed herself to feel hopeful, maybe she would, after all, be able to tell him the truth. But, soon enough, he retreated to his room. And once the board stopped his search missions, he isolated himself almost entirely.

The embellished tale of her daughter’s tragedy was also the story told to most of S.H.U.S.H. Not only to reduce the risk of the information leaking to F.O.W.L., but also from certain offshoots of S.H.U.S.H. itself.  She and Ludwing von Drake, one of the few people in the world she trusted wholeheartedly, worked hard to keep the secret about Webby under wraps. If Scrooge found out, it would be one thing. No matter what, no matter how much he spiralled into his own dark thoughts, she knew he would never intentionally bring hurt to a child. He would never reveal the secret to anyone who wasn’t supposed to know, even if he resented her for keeping it.  

But of-shoots of S.H.U.S.H., overzealous agents, vengeful spies, they would probably be looking for, in their eyes, the result of F.O.W.L.’s plans that would have to be…

She couldn’t even think it. And the fact that she treated May and June when they first found them in the same manner, making not only the two girls but also Webby, feel like they were just a product of F.O.W.L. plans, still rattled her with guilt, even weeks after the incident. She was an old hypocrite.

What’s worse is that in the early weeks after the truth became known, things seemed to go well. Too well. They chalked it up to Webby’s generally trusting and forgiving nature and she dared be hopeful once again. That, despite everything, the family relations won’t change much.

But the more time passed, the more issues seem to emerge.

This was especially true for the last two and a half weeks, since Donald left. Having May and June around, helping them adjust, helping Donald and Daisy with their voyage plans turned out to be a distraction, but nobody realized that at first.

She couldn’t blame anyone, not Scrooge and certainly not Webby. Their lives were turned upside down, thanks to her lies.

But it still hurt. She deserved it, the mild mistrust, she knew, but it hurt. To see Webby occasionally struggle with the word granny was like a stab through the heart and to know Scrooge may never trust her fully, was painful.

Scrooge wasn’t necessarily upfront about it, but things did change between them. On the one hand, they treated each other, surprisingly, with less formality than before. On the other, there seemed to be a wall between them that wasn’t before. There wasn’t any particular incident she could point to, but she could feel it.

And with Webby, it was even worse. She knew there was something bothering the girl, she did raise her after all. But Webby being Webby, tried to hide it, to protect others from being hurt. Tried to make it seem like everything was all right. Awkward mistakes with Scrooge’s title, something that wasn’t an issue at first when she just kept calling him dad were now a common occurrence, but she tried to ignore it. The initial excitement of being a McDuck wore off and things were becoming more difficult.

The relationship between Beakley and Webby was also tainted. She wanted to try and talk it out, very aware that there were things to talk about, but, despite her years of experience, she didn’t know how to bring it up. Her and Webby did talk, of course, they did. A lot of their interactions, like those on the train, were unchanged compared to what they would have been before.

 And at first, it seemed to be enough, but that statement quickly proved to be false. Years of secrets and lies caught up to Bentina Beakley and, to make matters worse, Webby didn’t even hear the truth from her. She tried, but they still haven’t managed to meaningfully address the issue.

She hated sounding accusatory, but it seemed like Webby was avoiding her. Not in casual situations, she seemed fine with those. But every time the two were alone for longer than five minutes, especially if Bentina gave even the slightest hint the conversation could turn to the issue of Webby’s parentage and Bentina’s secrecy, Webby would suddenly leave. Excuses varied, from suddenly remembering she left the glue-gun on, to wanting to take biscuits to Della and Penumbra who were working at the hangar, to remembering that there was an episode of a show airing. And then she would avoid her until someone was with either of them, knowing Beakley wouldn’t bring it up around others.

It was all to protect her, Beakley said to herself. I had to protect her. She knew it didn’t make things any better, but that was the only thing keeping her from spiralling into the pits of crushing guilt.

However, their little shopping adventure was about to start. And if talking about it back home was a problem, talking about issues in an overpriced hotel away from home certainly wasn’t an option. It would only make matters worse. It was a conversation they would have to have another time.

So Bentina did what she knew, got up, smiled, and kept on going.

…..

The adventuring trio was already well on their way into the forest, Louie being grateful that his company this time have been two elders. Sure, thanks to various magical aging down methods, both were way more vital than the majority of the elderly in the world, but they still took things a bit slower than the rest of his family did on these trips. Of course, he would never point this out since he knew that it would only result in the two starting a much more vigorous trek, probably trying to best each other in the process.

All three were equipped with backpacks, with basic supplies, and camping gear. Also, each had a weapon. Louie kept a small dagger in his hoodie pocket, a gift from Webby, Goldie had both a sword, a rapier, and a small dagger on her belt while Scrooge was the only one who decided to stick to his usual equipment-he simply took his cane.

“Ok, so, this is a nice hike,” Louie said, “When exactly should I expect death traps to appear? I mean, according to this map we are about two-thirds of the way in. Statistically, they should start to appear right about now?”

“Oh, don’t worry lad, no death traps of any kind this time,”

“What?” Louie gaped, “you’re telling me that I’m on a Scrooge and Goldie adventure with no death traps ? Ok, Aunt Goldie, what the heck was in that expensive sparkling water because whatever it was, it’s making me hallucinate Uncle Scrooge saying no death traps!”

“Sharpie, the only thing in that bottle was good ol’ H2O, some carbonic acid and probably some magnesium. Your uncle is right this trip has no death traps!”

“There were some we activated 54 years ago, but those were most likely left by other explorers who wanted to remain the only and only to reach the candelabra. Considering both the varying skill levels of execution and the technology used. But originally, the path was only guarded by the dragon. And it seems like nobody bothered to booby-trap the path much since!”

“Uh-huh.” Louie said, dreading what was coming “so, may have you underplayed the dragon a little bit, right?”

“Just a wee bit,” Scrooge said and Louie had a strong sense he and his uncle had a very different definition of the word wee.

He stopped in his tracks. “You know what, I’m not moving from this spot till you two tell me exactly what this guy can do!”

Scrooge sighed, and turned around to face Louie, resting both of his hands on his cane “See, this dragon, I told you, is not a typical dragon, big lizard with pointy teeth, wings, fire breathing. Not even the eastern kind, resembling a snake and more water-related. No, this being is called a felynedworm. Possibly one of a kind, but in some respects, it does resemble a dragon. He can fly, is reptile-like, if only partially. But it’s his powers that are the most important. See, while neither Goldie nor I are foolish enough to defy that beast,”

“Ok, sorry to interrupt but now I’m really scared! Considering I saw you face a golden dragon, a Bombie and Jörmungand and many, many other things! And, well, Goldie, haven’t been adventuring with you as much but you stood between me and haywire B.O.Y.D., he is much nicer now by the way, so yeah…the fact that this dragon is where you both draw the line…phew…”

Goldie and Scrooge looked between themselves, and then scrooge continued, “If you allow me to finish, lad, all the threats you mentioned are physical ” he said, “But the felynedworm is not. Oh sure, he could probably kill us with one swipe of his paw, but that’s something we can avoid, something we can fight. However, just like the artifact he keeps safe, he has psychic abilities. He can influence one’s mind! Make people go insane if they defy him!”

“And we’re walking towards him,” Louie said in feigned nonchalance, but his eye was twitching wildly, “cool, cool….remind me again why am I here?”

“You volunteered, didn’t you?” Scrooge asked him with a smirk.

“Yeah, maybe if you volunteered all of these information back in duckburg, instead of keeping half of it to yourself, I would now be watching Ottoman Empires rerun instead of walking towards a creature that can melt my brain!” Louie said, frustration seeping into his voice.

“Now, now, lad, that will nae happen!” Scrooge said, “I told you, last time we were here, well it’s not the nicest memory but as you can see, both of us go unscathed.”

“If you just leave when he says, he will let you go, Sharpie,” Goldie said, “and if this crazy old man here and I have enough sense to listen to him, I know you will too”

Louie perked up, “Oh, are you calling me smarter and or wiser than both of you? I’m flattered!”

“Well, no,” Goldie said bluntly, “But I’ll give you this. You might have a slight edge in the common sense department,”

“As if that is hard…” Louie mumbled.

Goldie blinked, a bit stunned for a moment, 2insolent brat,” she finally said.

“Only now realized that O’Gilt? You should be getting used to it!” Scrooge said, chuckling.

“Ah, right, after all, he is your great nephew,” Goldie replied.

“I beg your pardon, are you calling me an insolent brat? I’m older than ye!”

“Only by a decade or so, and at our age, does it really matter Scroogie?” Goldie said.

“Are you calling yourself old, O’Gilt?”

“Oh, I’m not the one in denial, old man!”

“Me? You’re the one dying your hair!”

“Oi now you’re going to complain about that! You’ve got no business there!”

“Never said I do, just be realistic, you are the one attempting to look younger!”

“And you, wearing that top-hat to cover the balding area on your head!”

“I’m nea doing such thing, it’s the thing of style!”

“Well, so is this!” she took a strand of her hair, waving it in front of Scrooge’s beak, nearly swatting him with it “How can I be Goldie O’Gilt if my hair turns silver!”

Scrooge chuckled, “ Silvery O’Gilt, you’re right, doesn’t have the same ring to it,”

“Oh, shut up you,”

“If it matters, I think it would suit you as lovely as gold does,” Scrooge said, his tone turning softer.

“And you don’t look half bad without that thing on,” Goldie said, stealing his hat and putting it on her own head, “how do I look?”

“Return it you, thief!”

“Come get it yourself, Scroogie!” she teased, stepping away just far enough so Scrooge couldn’t reach her immediately.

“Eugh, blargh,” the heard gagging sounds behind them, “may I remind you that you are not alone? And there is not a room for you to get here so please, so…all that..”

Both elders blushed and took a step away from each other.

“Erm, right,” Scrooge scratched his neck, “Where were we?”

“Walking towards the mind-melting dragon,” Louie said flatly.

“Right, and, as I was saying, or rather as Goldie was saying,” Scrooge said, attempting to snatch his hat from her but she evaded him, “he is not going to do anything to us as long as we don’t disregard his warnings”

“So, if he says pack and go home… ”

“We, as uncharacteristic as that sounds, pack and go home,” Scrooge finished for him, “a monster I can fight, but I like to keep me mind intact. And yours too, Louie.”

“And not mine?” Goldie leaned in towards him, batting her eyelashes.

“You can keep yer own mind perfectly safe,” Scrooge said to her, finally managing to get his hat back and put it on, “now, we should keep moving, the sun is coming down, we don’t want the dark to find us here.”

After some walking, both Scrooge and Goldie stopped for a moment, looked to their right, then exchanged a worried glance.

“What, what is it?” Louie asked, taking out a dagger he was carrying in his hoodie pocket. A gift from Webby.

“I thought I’ve heard something;” Scrooge said, gesturing the two to keep quiet and slowly approaching the bushes on the right. He moved the leaves and found nothing.

“Possibly an animal,” Goldie commented. “Might be someone else trying to reach it though…”

“If we bump inf Glomgold here…”

“Doubt it,” Goldie said, “there would be signs of a complete idiot passing through here. Also, he would probably be caught in that snare right there.”

“What snare?” Scrooge said, taking a step back and stepping right onto the trap Goldie was referring to, yelping and dropping his cane, hanging about three feet above ground. “Tatter me tartans!”

“Uncle scrooge!” Louie cried out, while Goldie laughed.

“I’m fine lad, my pride may be a bit bruised, but I’m fine.” He frowned at Goldie who bent over, still laughing. “Scratch that, severely bruised.”

“Hey, Sharpie,” Goldie collected herself, wiping of a tear, “you might have an edge in the observance department next to Scrooge, too,” she smirked at the Scrooge teasingly.

“Oh, knock it off, it could happen to anyone,” he said. “I was distracted!”

“My, my, I knew I still had my looks but to that extent, Scrooge…”

“What, no it’s not that,” Scrooge reddened in the face and it had nothing to do with the rush of the blood that resulted from being hung upside down, “whatever, just hand me me cane so I can, wait, no, Goldie, what are you doing…”

Goldie took out her knife, holding it in a throwing grip, “What, you are not too high, not in danger of breaking your neck!”

“No, wait I can-“ it was too late, Goldie threw her knife at the rope and Scrooge fell ungracefully to the ground.

“You devil woman,” he grunted as he tried to get up. Goldie picked her knife up, sheathed it and helped Scrooge up. “I could’ve gotten myself out of there.” He lamented as he was dusting himself off.

“Like you’ve gotten yourself into it?” She teased, getting his hat and putting it on his hat so his eyes were covered and then pressing a peck on his beak. “Crazy old fool.”

Scrooge straightened his hat and looked at her with a mix of annoyance and affection, ”I’ll get you for that one!” he said.

“Sorry, sourdough,” she chuckled, quirking her head “Couldn’t resist. Now,” she said, her face straight as Scrooge dusted himself off, still somewhat miffed. “I believe that truly was an animal. Apparently, deer are now better at avoiding traps than your great uncle, Sharpie.”

“Wouldn’t do much for a deer, I could virtually touch the ground from that hight,” Scrooge said.

“Oh, so you’re saying you caught yourself into a bad trap,” Louie said. “Right. Well, they do say ‘learn from other people’s mistakes+ so,” he pretended to take out a notebook and a pen, “note, do not fall into easy-to-avoid badly made traps. Got it!”

“You really can be an insolent brat,” Scrooge said, mildly flicking Louie on the head, “I’m never taking both of you on the same adventure again.”

“Aw, come on Scroogie, you would miss us!”

“I would not!”

“Yes we are only here to strengthen yer character ” Louie said in a decently close Scrooge impression.

“Bless me bagpipes, why me,” scrooge looked at the sky, but when he looked back at his companions there was a hint of a smile on his face. “Well then, come along, I’m the one who got caught into a trap and you are the ones loitering around! We need to reach that cave by nightfall!” he rushed off, whacking the overgrown underbrush with his cane.

“Come on, Sharpie, let’s make sure your uncle doesn’t hurt himself.” Goldie said casually, but her eyes drifted to her right, lingering on a large bush for a moment.

“I’ve heard that! And if you think you have to keep an eye on me. Hurry up, you can’t do it if I’m halfway there and you stay here!”

Goldie and Louie rushed after him. Louie’s gut feeling was telling him that there was something more than a supposed deer in that bush. And if Scrooge and Goldie thought they were being subtle, they were really supposed to take subtlety classes. They were worried. So, Louie rushed after them.

Suddenly, he had a feeling that Glomgold tumbling out of a bush would not be such a bad option. 

Chapter Text

Webby, Dewey, and Mrs. Beakley walked into the large gym hall. The space was crowded with people, them milling around between the stands and desks, looking at thousands of various trinkets the sellers were offering. The kids could barely hold their excitement, Webby bouncing on her feet and Dewey looking around, his eyes sparkling, looking ready to burst.

Webby wore her usual skirt but paired with an old Masters of Rings T-shirt she borrowed from Donald at Louie’s suggestion. He claimed that wearing old nerd stuff might help with bargaining with other nerds.

When Dewey heard his idea, he embraced it wholeheartedly. He was wearing equally as old Darkwing Duck T-shirt he got from Launchpad and even put on a cape Drake lent him, albeit with a lot of warnings about not letting anything happen to the cape. No amount of convincing Dewey that this was an antique/vintage fair and not a Comic-Con could dissuade him.

Mrs. Beakley wore her usual suit, trying to remain serious but the kids’ joy was contagious, and the older woman couldn’t hide her smile. Still, every time she got the slightest glance of a reporter, or a blogger, or anyone who looked like they would like to come and greet the two McDuck heirs in front of her, badgering them for an interview, her smile would drop momentarily as she looked at the offender with an icy glare, making the offending party suddenly remember something very important on the other side of the room.

While the media frenzy in Duckburg died down quite a bit, especially since Scrooge and kids appearing on the streets was a daily occurrence, in other towns them appearing was unusual and any journalist who was on the lookout for a great story could come to bother them. Especially at an event such as this one.

“Come on kids,” she nudged them further into the hall, “we’re blocking the entrance.”

“No prob, Mrs. B.,” Dewey tried to rush off, but she grabbed him by the cape, “Hey, I promised Drake I’ll look after it!”

“I didn’t say run inside immediately,” she warned, only letting Dewey go once she was certain he wouldn’t bolt. “Remember, no-“

“We know, we know, no bargaining today! We are just watching! Isn’t it forbidden to sell anything today anyway?”

“It is. But it doesn’t stop everyone. And those who are ready to sell today are likely the ones who hike up the prices.”

“Don’t worry, granny,” Webby said, “no buying and no making any definitive forward deals either. Because those can be just as shady. Louie told me that as well.”

“Speaking of Louie, did either of you got a message from him. Scrooge is refusing to answer my texts!”

“Maybe there is no signal up on the Rocky Mountains?” Webby suggested.

“Well, maybe now but, well, look at this,” she showed them her phone. While some of the most recent texts didn’t even send, the earlier texts were left read but unanswered.

“Uncle Scrooge!” Dewey exclaimed, outraged, “leaving seen, my, my, I’m disappointed. That is, like, ten times worse than just not looking at the inbox!”

“Yes, your great-uncle is a master of passive aggression when he wants to be. So, any messages you got from any of them?” she asked. She would even take O’Gilt’s. Even if the idea of more than two members of the family communicating with her filled her with dread.

“Yup,” Dewey said, “Louie sent me this when they arrived at the airport in the Rockies. And this.” He showed her photos Louie took at the airport. “He says the weather is nice.”

“Everyone else playing nice?”

“I guess…things seem fine to me,” Dewey shrugged, putting his phone away.

“Granny, I think you worry too much,” Webby said, “I’m sure that Louie and uncle-um, dad, are fine! They would call if they weren’t!”

“I hope you are right, Webby,” Beakley said, frowning. They can’t call if they are tied up in a pit-trap somewhere. She thought but didn’t voice her concerns. However, even if everything went fine, McDuck would get an earful once he got back. Ignoring her texts, what was he, a pouty teenager?

“Never mind this old worrywart, you two,” she said in the end, “Go, have fun. See what you like so you can go grab it tomorrow.”

“Ok,” Dewey rushed off.

“Wait for me!” Webby shouted after him, on his heels within seconds. Beakley looked after them, almost envious of their childhood wonder.

You are paranoid, Bentina Beakley, she told herself, everything will be fine!

Her mind slightly calmer, she approached a woman selling old porcelain. Might as well refresh the manor’s collection now that she was here.

A few rows of stands down, Webby and Dewey stopped, taking their surroundings in. They rushed from one stand to another, barely ever lingering. Webby rambled about historic uses of items found, while Dewey compared them to whatever historical dramas and fantasy films he saw. The sellers’ reactions varied from those who would shoo them away, afraid that the two kids would break something to those who would just give them pleasantly surprised smiles, and then some would engage them in conversation.

“This is awesome! I don’t even know what half of these things are, but this is awesome!” Dewey said after they had an in-depth conversation with a woman who was selling models of old planes. He made a note of those-if he had enough money, he would get one for mum.

“I know! I expected this to be cool, but not to this extent! Look there, are those revolvers genuine? And there, those look like real, old-fashioned tailor’s tools!”

“You think we could get those for Daisy? Oh, oh, look there, old-timey posters! And those old-timey sailor tools!”

“Dewey, you lived with a sailor for ten years, how do you not know those are sextants!

“Can’t think now, too much stuff going on! Hey, come check these out!” Dewey yelled over to Webby. As he walked over to one of the stands near him.

“Wait for a second,” Webby yelled back as she found utterly fascinated by a man selling incredibly well-done copies of various historic artifacts, some she even recognized from their adventures. Louie or Scrooge would probably be able to differentiate between the fakes he was selling and the real things but for some of the items, the only reason she knew they were fake was that they lay in the manor garage.  

“Um, you are not claiming these are real-deal, are you?” she asked the man, careful not to sound accusatory.

The elderly goose let out a hearty laugh, “No, no, none of these are real. Replicas are what I excel in, young lady. But tell me, how’d you know these aren’t real? I need to up my craft if a young thing like you can tell the difference.”

“Well, the way that old plate gives off shimmer seems, really, really modern. Nothing like the ones that would be from the 1920s. And I know for certain that isn’t a real thing,” she pointed to, admittedly, a very well done replica of a medusa gauntlet, “because, well, I hope you would know not to put it here where someone could get petrified, I mean, you only need one clumsy person to knock it over. Also, the real one is currently in my dad’s garage!”

“In your, now wait a gosh-darn minute you are-“

“Webby!” she saw Dewey who was frantically waving in her direction.

“Oh, my friend is calling me over! Nice to meet you, bye!” Webby rushed over to Dewey, leaving the old seller as the realization shone on his face.

“Come here, come here, come here!” Dewey, suddenly grabbed her arm, dragging her to their left, “There, over a guy is selling really old, geek stuff! Could we please, please, go check that out! Please!” 

“No problem! Oh, and look, the guy next to him is selling old vinyl! I might get something for Lena. And her dad gave me some cash to get him The Book of Tailsyn by Deep Violet if I manage to find it! Oh, and I must find something for Vi, think she would like that old clock? Or maybe something magic-related? It has been her special interest for the last two years!”

“Ty Sabrewing has a refined taste,” Dewey said, “but before we delve into music history and regular history and magic history, can we please go check out geek history! I need a birthday present for my best friend, let’s hope to find something DW-related!” Dewey dragged Webby after him.

“Oh, if all DW fans are like Drake and LP, you know, excited every time they see a kid who likes it, they will give you stuff for free. Which, don’t accept! Wouldn’t be fair!”

“Man, Louie would be so disappointed in you!”

“I know! But I just can’t do it!” Webby shrugged, walking over to the guy who was selling various merchandise from several franchises as well as old photographs and various antique household items.

“Is that a 2002 limited edition Masters of Rings T-shirt?” the seller, a red-headed swan in his 30s asked.

“Uh-huh,” Webby said, “my uncle’s!”

“I have to say. Kids today have more taste than kids of my generation had when I was a kid, I would get beaten up for that one!”

“Oh, well,” Webby shrugged. She was home-schooled her entire life, she didn’t know what anyone would say if she appeared in that shirt in public school.

“Hey, are these for sale?” Dewey cut in pointing to a few DW villain action figures.

“Everything here is, I don’t bring things just for show. Need anything in particular?”

“Yeah, is that the Bugmaster from the ’99 collection? It’s for a friend, the one who got me into DW. He has all the villains aside from her.”

“Yup, the one and only. The voice box is busted, though. Could probably be fixed, but I couldn’t find anyone capable of doing that.”

“I’m sure we’ll figure it out,” Dewey said. If Gyro was able to make a voice modulator that made Uncle Donald’s voice understandable to everyone, he could fix a voice box in an action figure.

“Sir,” Webby called the man’s attention. “Do you know where can I get old unusual book copies, I’m looking for a copy of Master of Rings in Old Syriac?”

“What gives kids. First, you know the details of old geek paraphernalia, now you want a copy of a book in Old Syriac, next, you’re going to tell me you are also looking for the Almanac for ancient druidic spells or something!”

“Wait….SOMEONE HERE IS SELLING AN ALMANAC FOR ANCIENT DRUIDIC SPELLS! WHY WASN’T THAT ANNOUNCED ONLINE!”

“Whoa, kid, I was joking! Do you really read Celtic languages? I mean, druids were Celtic, right? And Old Syriac? I never even got why someone would write a book in it!”

“Oh, my Old Syriac is a bit rusty, my ancient Greek and Latin are much better. And really, I can only read it when it’s phonetically transcribed, as it is in the copy of the book, I mean Masters of Rings. Our family archivist says it’s a travesty to write it down In such a form, but oh well, good for learning I guess. One of my best friends knows some of the cuneiform writing and-oops, sorry, didn’t mean to bore you. Anyways, yes I can read Old Syriac and, while out of all the Celtic languages I’m only fluent in Scottish Gaelic, I’m determined to know more, so yes I would like to know the location of both the masters of Rings copy and the almanac if you know who is selling them, please.”

The seller simply blinked. He moved in geek circles for most of his life. Eighty percent of his friends were what most would describe as nerd extraordinaire. Yet the kid in front of him, one who look very familiar for some reason, outdid all of them. Then he looked at Dewey, still in shock.

“Oh, don’t worry, this is normal.” Dewey shrugged, “You should see her, the previously mentioned friend, and my brother on sleepovers. I think they would put most linguistic doctorate students to shame!”

“I happen to know a few people with doctorates in linguistics and trust me, your sister here would put most of them to shame.” The seller said, “Now,” he turned back to Webby, “Veronica, she is selling her old Syriac book, is over there, the lady with green hair, that is her. And someone over there,” he gestured to a small cluster of stands all completely covered with large, leather-bound tomes.

“Thank you!” Webby rushed over towards Veronica.

“Hey, wait for me!” Dewey called after her, “I’m probably coming to pick that Bugmaster up tomorrow! LP will like it so much!”

“Ok, dude, I’ll save it-wait, LP? Launchpad? Launchpad McQuack? Oh man, I used to date the guy! I’m totally saving it for you now! Tell him Greg Labudowski says hi!”

“Will do! I have to go now, Bye! And Thanks!” Dewey said, rushing after Webby. How many exes does LP have, exactly? He wondered. And if I send this guy’s greetings, will Drake be jealous?

“So, what do we got?” he asked Webby as he reached her.

"Well, I know I said not to make deals today but that lady, Veronica, she is really, really nice and I think she also liked my, I mean Uncle Donald’s T-shirt and she will save me a copy for tomorrow for an hour or two! WE HAVE TO BE HERE TOMORROW AT 9 A.M. SHARP!”  Webby grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him emphatically.

“Ok, ok, Webby, chill! We will get you your book!”

“I would say I’m sorry, but you are the one who dragged me through three rows to see an action figure so, we’re even!”

“Argh! I can’t wait for tomorrow! There are so, so many cool things here! Ah, I already said that!”

“It is worth repeating! There are so many cool things here! Now, let’s go check out those vinyl records for Lena!”

“No, the magic books first!” Webby pointed to those large tomes, “There was a huge crowd over there a minute ago and now there is nobody there.”

A bit behind them, Mrs. Beakley was calmly walking through rows of paraphernalia, occasionally checking out sets of plates or weapons. There were even a few acquaintances she met and greeted, but mostly she kept an eye on the kids. Occasionally shooting a glare to those who realized who the two excited children were faster than the replica and action figures sellers. The last thing they needed were people just getting selfies with them because of their statuses as McDuck heirs.

For the first time in days, Bentina saw her granddaughter and Dewey, especially the former, completely in their element. They expressed the same joy and excitement those two usually oozed at home. She was glad to see her kids joyous and untroubled, even if it was for a short period of time while at the fair.

……

Goldie was leading the trek through the woods, Louie in the middle and Scrooge tailing behind them. It’s been about three hours since Scrooge got caught in the trap, most of that time passed relatively calmly, albeit with some banter and bickering. There were no trap incidents, neither those of deadly variety nor harmlessly embarrassing ones. The only thing of note that happened was Della calling Louie. Somehow, there was enough signal in the middle of the forest for her call to get through.

As Scrooge and Goldie bickered in the background about which out of the two paths to take at a fork in the path-both paths seemed equally as impassable to Louie, so he decided not to take sides-Louie took a few steps away from them and answered the video call.

“Hi sweetie!” his mum waved at the camera.

“Whoa, mum, what happened?” Della was sitting in the back of the limo, and she looked like she has just been to war, all scraped up, her hair messy and her clothes torn. Someone was sitting next to her, judging by a lanky arm dressed in a green shirt, Louie assumed it was Gyro.

“Mark Beaks and his usual nonsense,” Della waved her hand off and Louie noticed it was bandaged.

“You look like you’ve been to a battle!”

“Yeah, we might have had a small robot-apocalypse, I’m sure you saw it on the news,”

“Mum, we’re in the middle of the woods, I don’t even know how we have a signal! Let alone the internet! What robot-apocalypse?”

“Hey, hey, Lou, dear, calm down, we’re fine,” Della said, and, judging by her alarmed expression, Louie knew that every ounce of shock he felt must’ve been visible on his face. “It’s nothing major, ok it was major, but we solved it. Beaks stole Gyro’s tech, again. And he also stole my tech. But we kicked the robot army’s butt! And now were bone-tired and going to the manor for some dinner. Well, we’re getting take-out! Oh, and Gyro is talking to me again!” She said, grinning widely, “Aren’t you Gy!” she turned the phone to the chicken sitting next to her.

Gyro looked just as disheveled as Della did. He opened his eyes, glared at Della, and grumbled, “I’m trying to nap!”

“Oops, sorry, he is trying to nap! How was your day sweetie?” she yawned.

“Our day is fine, Uncle Scrooge got caught in a snare, but he’s fine, just embarrassed,” he said, and Della snorted, “but what about you all, is Huey ok? B.O.Y.D., LP? Penny?”

“Louie, we’re all ok, ok? Team science, me, LP, Sabrewings, Penny, we all joined the fight but nobody got badly hurt.  Please don’t freak out too much, and try not to freak Uncle Scrooge much either, I just had to convince Donald and Beakley not to come rushing here, I don’t have it in me to do it the third time!”

“Oh, for the love of Ben Frankbill,” Gyro grumbled next to her, “some of us are trying to sleep! But no can do, next to Della Drivelling Duck. You might not have it in you so here, ahem, we’re fine, don’t come to Duckburg! There, I said it!”

“Wow Dr. Gearloose, you are a master of conviction,” Louie said as Della snickered and Gyro glared between the two of them, “And mum, I’m just worried. But I don’t think that we could come home quickly even if we wanted to. The night is falling here, and we would have to trek all the way back. So I’ll take your word for it. But keep in mind, you might get a call from Scrooge once I tell him. But I’ll tell him you said you were fine.”

“How is the bickering old couple anyways?” Della asked.

“Uh…bickering. Over,” he looked behind him, “well, it started over which path to take but now they divulged into Irish vs Scottish Gaelic so I can’t tell.”

“Whoa, ok, you go break that up, bringing up Gaelic means it’s serious. If Scrooge asks, tell him we’re all fine. Gy and I are waiting in the car while others are getting dinner at Lilly Pad Thai. We’re just tired as heck, but we’re heading home to eat and sleep. You know Gyro and B.O.Y.D. are spending the night over! Sleepover time!”

“Mum, you are 38…”

“Doesn’t matter a lady can have a sleepover with her friends regardless of age. Try telling webby at 38 that she can’t have a sleepover!” Louie thought about it and quickly abandon the thought. He did not have a death wish. And he was certain his 38-year-old self was not going to have one either.  “So, I’m off to have a nice evening with my friend who is talking to me again! No, go break that fight off before someone gets hurt. By sweetie.” She nudged Gyro, who was trying to nap again.

“Bye green nephew!” Gyro muttered.

“Bye. Oh and mum say hi to Huey for me!” Louie hung up, the two adults in the cave finally noticing that he was talking on the phone.  

He told the news to Scrooge and Goldie.

“Can’t leave the city for a day, yet there is chaos,” was Scrooge’s only comment once he was sufficiently convinced everyone was fine.

However, not half an hour after Louie told his mum that the adventure was going as planned, to the point she would probably find it boring, something rustled the bushes. Louie would write it off as another animal, but that was when Goldie and Scrooge wordlessly positioned themselves so that Louie was between them. Both adults were on edge and were not even attempting to hide it.

“Ok, you two are acting weird, what’s wrong?” Louie called out the two adults. The sun was lower on the horizon and the tree shadows were getting longer. Whatever was making the two tense, he knew he didn’t want to face it in the dark.

“Well, unless one of us smells like really tasty hay, I don’t think it’s a deer following us,” Scrooge said, getting closer to Louie and protectively standing behind him. For some reason, this made the feathers on the back of Louie’s neck bristle. Scrooge was rarely this worried. It either meant Scrooge suspected something truly horrible was following them, or that Scrooge had no idea who or what the stalker might be, so he was taking full precaution. Neither option soothed Louie’s nerves.

“Wait, shouldn’t we have already bumped into that feelin-, um, felindi- you know what I’m sticking to the word dragon,” Louie said. He realized how far into the woods they were. The path was virtually non-existent, only a narrow, barely noticeable, overgrown line between the trees, and the rocky top of the mountain, where the cave supposedly was, appeared very close. The boy reached into his pocket, looking for the comfort of the dagger he carried. I should really thank Webs for the gift, he thought as he nervously looked around. 

“Aye, we should’ve” Scrooge confirmed his fears, and Louie moved even closer to his great-uncle, “heard him at least”

“Maybe we are non-suspicious enough to make us pass?” Louie suggested, mostly just to say something. He didn’t believe his own words for a moment.

“Us three? If instead of us Webby, Launchpad, and Fenton were walking here, I might’ve agreed but if the Felynedworm is willing to let us just pass, he is growing senile! Three individuals as shrewd and cunning as us, he should at least come check, even if we have no malicious intent. Nah, something is wrong!” Scrooge frowned.

“Are you suggesting something worse than a mind-melting dragon might be around?” Louie asked, panicking a bit. Yeah, Glomgold tumbling out of the bushed sounded amazing at that moment. 

“He is suggesting someone else might be around here,” Goldie said calmly, but there was a sharpness to her voice that wasn’t there before, “Someone who is either more suspicious than us, so the dragon is distracted, or who did something to the dragon, so he is hurt. Also, someone who is currently not attacking us, and we can’t know their reason for it.”

“Right, neither option makes me feel good about this whole thing,” Louie said. “Oh no, you are going to suggest going forward to stop the likely horrible person right there?” he hoped that Goldie would say something reasonable like ‘hey, let’s go save our skins’. He knew, however, that Scrooge wouldn’t hear of it.

“Yes, but stay between us, and thread carefully,” Scrooge warned. He held his cane like a sword while Goldie drew out her rapier. Louie gulped. He wanted to hide behind a rock until it was all over. He was never the best fighter.

However, there was a part of him that also wanted to go forwards. If some villain, someone like Magica of Bradford or Mark Beaks was there, getting their hands on that candle, he knew it was only a matter of time before they would reach his family. McDucks were all-too well known not to be targeted.

The idea of Huey, Dewey, Webby, Uncle Donald, mum, Lena, any of their friends or family under someone else’s influence filled Louie with horror, but also anger and determination. Nobody was touching his family. Let alone using them for their own gain.

“I really should take Beakley’s lessons more seriously,” Louie muttered, taking out the dagger from his pocket, “Or maybe talk to mum, Penny, or Webby. Maybe they would be willing to give me lessons that are not at the ass-crack of dawn!”

“Language,” Scrooge scolded, but it sounded half-hearted.

After about three minutes of stalking through the woods, they saw the dragon. Louie hid behind Scrooge’s back but there was no need for it. The three adventurers stopped in their tracks, Scrooge and Goldie bewildered while Louie felt fear settle into his heart.

The large creature, lay about 60 feet away from them, on a small meadow at the bottom of a steep ledge. Above the ledge, the cave entrance was visible. The creature looked vaguely reptilian, with a long tail curled around the body and long talons peaking from beneath its muscular body. However, it was covered in silver and red fur, and its head was a mix of feline and reptilian features, large, curved horns pointed backward, between the big, lynx-like ears. From its snout, long, moustache-like appendages were hanging. The Felynedworm appeared to be sleeping. Louie would say he was sleeping peacefully were it not for the occasional whimper that came from him.

“Bless me bagpipes,” Scrooge said while Goldie cursed under her breath, “this is worse than I thought!” he carefully approached the dragon, and Louie reached after his great uncle, but Goldie grabbed his hand.

“What? Are just letting him-“

“He knows what he is doing, Sharpie,” Goldie said, but the tone of her voice didn’t calm Louie down. Quite the opposite. The only other time he heard her that serious was back in Florida, seconds before she threw herself unto the pool full of the fountain of youth water after Scrooge.

Scrooge walked back to them.

“He’s, well, enchanted is not the right word,” Scrooge said, pointing at a small pendant dangling from the dragon’s horn. There was a symbol glowing brightly on it, “Alchemy seal. Binding spell of sorts, I’d say. Don’t know more than that.”

“Alchemy? Isn’t that like chemistry but magical?” Louie asked. “How can that make a dragon fall asleep?”

“He’s not sleeping, he’s in some type of trance, not pleasant one from the looks of it. And alchemy is, eh, one of the few fields I’m not an expert in. But it’s more than magical chemistry, I can tell you that. But it does not matter now anyway. When that Felynedworm wakes, and that will be when the seal loses its glow, he won’t be happy. Now, he will know we’re not at fault here, but I wouldn’t like to be in the shoes of those who are,” Scrooge said grimly.

Louie would lie if he said there wasn’t a tiny bit of him that was glad that dragon was not a threat. But considering how many times both Scrooge and Goldie claimed that the dragon was peaceful, his whimpers made Louie feel sorry for the creature. It was good news for whoever did it that Lena or Webby weren’t on this trip with them. Lena, self-proclaimed protector of magical beings everywhere, would wipe the floor with the perpetrator, assuming Webby wouldn’t chase them down and kick their ass in the few seconds Lena needed to change forms.

At that moment, they heard rustling in the bushes a few meters on their left. Jumping instinctively, all three hid behind a large rock when suddenly a flash of light appeared at the cave

“For hell’s sake, Scrooge,” Goldie said, shock and disbelief etched into her voice “someone is “trying to steal it!”

“Don’t you think I see that?” Scrooge said, irritated, “and if they succeed…well, nothing good will come from it.” He poked his head from behind the rock, surveying the situation. “There’s two of them, “

“ACK!” Goldie suddenly yelped. Someone attacked them from behind. It wasn’t a deer. Or Glomgold. A tall person, a large feline, lunged at Goldie. Another figure, just as large as the first, appeared to the first attacker’s right while two figures from the cave turned towards them, one immediately running down the opposite side of the hill they just climbed, while the other rushed towards them.

“’T was a trap,” Scrooge grunted, “We’re surrounded!”

Goldie regained her senses, kicking her attacker in the chest, turning around to elbow another in the face. They both stumbled, while the third figure appeared out of nowhere, drew their sword, and attacked her. Goldie, slipping her backpack off, her rapier in hand, engaged both in a fight, giving the shortest of glances over her shoulder to her companions, “Scrooge I’ll take them, you go follow-“

But Scrooge has already used the opening she gave him, jumping from behind the rock, dropping his backpack, and chasing after the runaway. At the last second, he made a detour, jumping in front of the figure running towards them. A female swan, armed with only a knife, was taken by surprise and a moment of hesitation gave Scrooge a chance to attack. A few well-aimed whacks of his cane and the woman stumbled backward, right into a trap he knew would be there. The woman was now hanging in a net trap, 6 feet above the ground. Scrooge picked up a knife she dropped and continued running after the thief.   

Goldie pushed Louie behind her, making him fall into a bush, “Stay there, Sharpie!” she ordered him, and he was willing to listen. What good would he even do in a fight? Neither of the attackers seemed interested in him, focusing all their attacks on Goldie. Following the example of the adults, he took his backpack off, getting rid of the extra burden in case he was attacked.

It was hard to watch. He knew Goldie was skilled, there was no question about it. She kicked, and dodged and sliced, taking full advantage of her being ambidextrous, switching sword from one hand to another to keep the bad guys on their toes.

But three against one, especially when two figures were nearly twice Goldie’s size, still made for unfair odds. The large tiger, the first attacker, seemed to be the strongest, attacking with his bare hands even as Goldie was armed. The other, a tall light-furred dog was skilled with a sword and the third, a short stork, kept back slightly, only attacking when Goldie was already occupied. They would occasionally throw small disks at Goldie, and she would beat them away with her sword, even as this left her more open to the attacks from the other two opponents.

One disk landed in front of Louie’s bush, and he reached for it. He never saw a symbol like that in his life, but it resembled the one on the dragon’s horn. If those disks could put a dragon to sleep, what would they do to Goldie?

As if to prove the point, when he raised his gaze, he saw one disk hitting Goldie on the shoulder. It only grazed her, but she screeched in pain as if burned. The attackers grew more vicious, and her fight was getting sloppier, as she was now clearly sparing her right arm. He hoped that fighting left-handed gave her at least a bit of an advantage. He vaguely remembered Webby once saying that, since most people are right-handed, most sword users were more familiar with right-hand fighting.

“Ok, ok, Louie think, what do you have?” He looked around himself. Goldie was still holding on, but the figure Scrooge trapped was trying to cut themselves out of the net. Four against one would probably be too much. 

Louie had a dagger, one disk he picked up, he had no idea what it did but was willing to use it if needs must, little fighting capabilities, a can of pep, some band-aids, a backpack with food, and a sleeping bag; then there was an incapacitated dragon…

The dragon.

Oh no. He didn’t like the idea forming in his head.

…..

Scrooge ran after the thief. Unlike the side of the mountain they climbed, this side was almost barren, with only a few trees and some underbrush, dangerous, sharp rocks making up the path that was more suited for extreme rock climbing than running after thieves. It was dangerously steep, pebbles falling from underneath his feet. There were sections where he could barely keep balance preventing himself from tumbling down into the ravine underneath him.

The thief was fast and a skilled climber and Scrooge cursed his old knees and old back for God knows which time. If this happened 54 years and 8 months ago, he would already be on the thief’s heels.

Finally, he noticed a chance. He was about 5 meters behind the thief, the man, Scrooge was pretty certain he was a man, now tossing him concerned glances over his shoulders. Next to the path, a tree grew, its branches reaching over the path.

The man finally seemed to realize Scrooge was a real threat. He stopped suddenly, turning around to throw a knife at the old duck. However, Scrooge used his cane as a pogo stick to bounce of the ground, the knife passing harmlessly under him. The thief was momentarily caught off guard, looking up at Scrooge as he bounced off again, and while airborne, aimed his cane at one of the overhanging branches. He hooked himself on the branch, looping around it, and landed in front of the thief.

The thief was a tall, dark-furred dog. He was rather lean but stood at almost twice Scrooge’s height and was armed to his teeth. The candelabra was in a pouch on his side, and a part of Scrooge wondered if he and Goldie miscalculated. Her sleight of hand would be of use here, more so than Scrooge’s fighting abilities, which she matched also.

However, there wasn’t much time to ponder their choices, as the thief tried to push his way next to Scrooge, armed with a cutlass. Scrooge blocked the path, kicking him in the shin. The man hissed painfully, slicing at Scrooge who evaded his attack, and immediately went for another offensive move, swiping at the hand the man held the sword in. His opponent jumped back, taking out two throwing knives and threw them at Scrooge, forcing him to duck. The man kicked at his shoulder and Scrooge blocked the attack with his cane, twisting his arm and moving forward so he could poke the man into the chest with it.

The thief seemed to expect this, jumping back, and he threw another knife and Scrooge, this one lancing dangerously close to the duck’s left foot.  Scrooge quickly bent down and pocketed the knife. Anything could be useful in a fight like this, and Scrooge wasn’t one to look into the gift horse’s mouth.  Before Scrooge could properly straighten, the thief went in for another blow, aiming at Scrooge's head, but the duck blocked it. They fought, a cutlass against a cane, dangerously teetering on the narrow path, both almost falling into the chasm a few times.

Despite being in the lower position, shorter and older, Scrooge managed to keep the upper hand. Both men were heaving, already scratched and bruised. Scrooge threw the knife he pocketed at the man, and it caught his upper arm. In return, the man cut Scrooge’s cheek. Instinctively, he reached for the injury and his attacker used this moment of distraction to kick him in the chest, sending him tumbling down the rocky path. Scrooge managed to keep himself from falling to the side, grabbing at sharp rocks that cut into his palm. He barely managed to pick himself up when his opponent struck again, hitting him on the arm with the side of his sword.

Scrooge let out a painful yelp as he took a step back, before collecting himself. He cursed under his breath and resumed the fight. He blocked the thief’s next attack, but the man threw a small disk at him. Scrooge disentangled himself from their locked position, swatting the small disk away.

The man threw two more disks at him, Scrooge avoided both, stumbling backward. The ground was unstable, covered in gravel that was shifting under his feet. He lowered himself behind some underbrush, grabbing a handful of gravel, and as the man lunged at him, Scrooge threw the gravel at his face.

Gravel in his eyes, the man cried out, blindly throwing another disk but it fell into the ravine. Not allowing his opponent the opportunity to clean his eyes, Scrooge got up, used his cane to swipe at the man’s legs, avoiding the cutlass the thief was flailing aimlessly. The thief fell to the ground, and Scrooge kicked his sword away.

“Now, hand the candelabra nice and easy and there will be no trouble,” Scrooge kept a leg on the man’s chest.

However, his opponent wouldn’t give up easily. Before Scrooge could properly react, he reached into his chest pocket, drew a knife, and cut Scrooge's leg. Scrooge hissed but didn’t alleviate the pressure, hitting the thief’s hand with his cane instead and making him drop the knife.

“If you think that can stop Scrooge McDuck,” he pinned the man’s arm on the floor with his cane, “you are gravely mis-ARGH!” something hit him in the shoulder. A jolt of pain passed through his arm, and he nearly dropped his cane. The man underneath him managed to pull himself free, while Scrooge reached for his shoulder, finding an alchemist disk there, caught on his sleeve. He tore it off and knew that he didn’t want those seals sticking to his bare skin.

Crouching on the rocky wall next to them was a small figure, armed with a slingshot they used to shoot alchemist seals at Scrooge.

“Nice work, kid,” the thief said, cleaning the gravel from his eyes as Scrooge jumped back at forth under the shower of seals. “How’s your hand-to-hand combat?”

“I’m good with a knife,” the small figure answered, still shooting at Scrooge but at a slower pace.  

“Out of seals?” the thief asked, picking his cutlass up, ready to engage scrooge in combat again “well then, let’s see those fighting skills of yours. Wouldn’t want to be hit by one of your stray projectiles anyways.”

The figure pocketed the slingshot and slid off the ledge they stood on, standing behind Scrooge and blocking his path. He was a short, thing, gray swan, his beak covered with a mask.

Curse me kilt, that boy can’t be older than 17, Scrooge thought, now caught between two opponents. He raised his cane. His leg was injured, and his arm hurt to hell and back but the fight wasn’t over yet.

Both the opponents attacked at the same time, Scrooge took a step backward, judging the boy to be less of a threat and avoiding the cutlass that was in the thief’s hand once again. He evaded and dodged, barely making any offensive moves to either of his opponents, realizing he underestimated the boy behind him. The two together definitely had enough skill to keep him on his toes.

But he mostly avoided the seals both would occasionally try to throw at him, even if that meant getting closer to their blades. He would rather be cut than in a nightmarish stupor they found the cave guardian in.

I hope Goldie and Louie are in a better situation than I, Scrooge thought as he fought against two opponents. He hoped this adventure wouldn’t have a much grimmer ending than his and Goldie’s previous attempt at it.

Chapter Text

Louie sometimes hated his brain.

The dragon.

Felynedworm, whatever.

A creature 15 times his size.

Who would be utterly furious when he woke.

It was a crazy idea.

Borderline insane.

In fact, he was pretty sure that his mum and Dewey on drugs wouldn’t think of something like this.

He peaked out of the bush. Goldie kept the attackers busy, even managing to push them away from Louie’s hiding spot. If Webby was there with him, she would probably be geeking out about Goldie’s skill level, but Louie saw something else in it. An opening.

He had to be quick. Goldie’s opponents would notice him. And so would the figure hung in a net. They were frantically trying to cut themselves free. It was a matter of minutes, and they would be free and ready to attack. Louie was not a bad runner, though. Plenty of running away from things willing to kill one on adventures is known to keep one in decent running condition.

About 60 feet. Way less than primary school P.E. track. He could do this.

He picked a path to the dragon, took a deep breath, and bolted.

He sprinted, jumping over rocks and fallen branches on the ground. The figure in the net seemed to notice him as they stopped trying to free themselves and reached into their backpack. Something whooshed next to his head, whether it was an arrow, a rock, or one of those disks Goldie’s opponent have thrown at her, he couldn’t say and he had no intentions to stop and find out. 

Another object fell next to his feet, and he jumped away. He tripped, painfully landing on his elbows, and scooted away, behind a fallen log. He realized that the trapped figure was no longer trapped and was now after him. He clung onto his dagger, trying to remember fight moves but his mind was blank.

Then he got an idea. He grabbed the disk from his pocket and picked a few more scattered on the ground. He heard someone closing in on him. The dagger in one hand and the disk in the other he moved from behind the log only to be immediately jumped by a tall figure.

A female swan dressed in a red tank-top and black cargo pants grabbed at him.

He tried to attack her with his knife, but she easily blocked him, using her knife, making him drop the dagger, and grabbed him by the hood. She lifted him up as if he weighed no more than a feather. He threw the disk at her, and the disk barely touched her but, same as Goldie, the woman yelped in pain, grabbing her arm and dropping Louie on the ground.

His elbows and now his but hurt yet emboldened, he reached back into his pocket. Three more disks. Whatever they would do to a target, it would probably help him. As his opponent got to her senses, he got to his feet and picked up his weapon.

The woman lunged at him and he leaned away, swiping with his dagger. The woman seemed to expect his clumsy attack, grabbing him by his wrist. But Louie counted on this. In an instant, he pulled a disk from his pocket and slapped it onto the attacker’s hand. The woman yelped in pain, letting go of his wrist, and stumbled away. All of a sudden, she seemed unstable so Louie took his chance and pushed her with all the force he could muster, making her fall to the ground. 

The woman tried to kick at him, but he dodged her. It was surprisingly easy, as she moved with none of the grace and skill she exhibited before. As she tried to back away and get up, he took his dagger and pointed it towards the swan’s beak. “N-nope,” he said, hoping his voice wasn’t too shaky. “A-arms where I can see them!” he tried to emulate every cop he ever saw on a cop show, “That means up!”

“Fighting a losing battle, kid,” the woman snarled, her hand limply lying on the ground now, “My partner is on his way with the artifact. Soon, the world will be ours!” she said, her voice bordering on manic.

“Yeah, heard a few people say that already,” Louie said, focusing on keeping his voice steady, “it never works.”

“Well, then we’ll be the first,” she replied, swinging her leg at him again but her movements grew even sloppier, like when your leg falls asleep when you sit in one position for too long and then you have less control over it.

“Oh, wait, that is a paralysis spell?” Louie realized as the woman’s entire left side collapsed. “Hold up, will you be able to breathe?” he remembered how Vi once told him that, some severely paralyzed patients couldn’t even breathe.

“What? Of course, I’ll be able to breathe! Do you think I’m stupid enough to make a seal that can kill a person? We are here to control, lead, not kill!”

“Uh-huh, but apparently you are stupid enough to tell me the info I need not to remove it from you!” Louie said, feigning nonchalance but was, in fact, very glad he did not just kill someone.

He gave her one last glance as she cursed him and his entire family, and then walked towards the dragon. He gulped. This better be worth it.

…..

Goldie noticed Louie bolting out of the bushes. Good the kid is making a break for it, she thought at first. However, despite focusing almost entirely on fighting the three rather skilled opponents, she realized what direction he took.

Oh no! She thought to herself, No, no, no. She started to fight more vigorously, her shoulder hurt like hell, a few scratches and small cuts she earned stung. She was deviously glad to see the three she was fighting all sporting cuts of their own. There may have had the numbers, but she was Goldie O’Gilt! They would think twice before engaging her next time.

She kicked the largest opponent in his gut, making him stumble into his ally. The third opponent, the short stork who so far mostly kept his distance, attacked with a knife but she avoided him with relative ease, spun, and hit him over the head with the hilt of her sword. She grunted as his blade met her arm, but he was the one who ended unconscious on the ground. She didn't even bother checking her arm. It was merely a scratch.

The other two resumed their attack, but the woman signaled something to the man so he ran towards the dragon.

Shit, she's after Louie, Goldie realized. She knew what the kid was planning and apparently, her opponents realized too.

She also knew that Louie was in no way knowledgeable enough to break an alchemist seal. She and Scrooge didn’t even know how to do that. It required skill and education in alchemy, or at least the magic and the occult, and while Louie was smart, he was no alchemist. And if that man reached Sharpie…

“The kid is bluffing,” she yelled after the tiger, hoping he would believe her, “he is no threat, get over here and fight someone your own size!”

“Don’t listen to her, if that kid manages to break the bind, we’re done for!” The swordswoman in front of Goldie shouted and the tiger kept on running after Louie.

Well shit.

“You think we’re dumb? That we think you would send a complete ignoramus to free the dragon?” the woman was heaving,

“I’m telling you; you’ll get nothing by targeting the kid,” Goldie said, facing her opponent. The woman, Milene, who Goldie recognized from her previous escapades, was tall and muscular, armed with a weapon responsible for the cut on her face. The guy who went after Sharpie may have been the strongest, but the swordswoman was by far the best fighter out of the three, the one who gave her the most trouble.

“As if I would believe that Goldie O’Gilt is worried about someone. If you’re trying to protect him, he is helpful. And the only way he can help over there is by freeing the dragon. Your reputation precedes you, Ice Queen of Dawson!”

Well shit indeed.

They circled each other like wild animals, judging what the other’s first move would be.

Milene sneered, clearly convinced that she had the advantage. Not that, between the size difference and the fact she was in much better shape than Goldie was, anyone could blame her. Well, it takes more than five minutes of fighting, a few cuts, and a mind-numbingly painful shoulder to take down Goldie O'Gilt!

She attacked first, taking out her dagger with her right hand and dual-wielding.  Her right arm hurt, but it wasn’t useless. Her opponent did not expect this, managing to block her sword but Goldie stabbed at her with a dagger as well, slicing her arm.

Milene growled and pulled back for a second, but then attacked again with even more ferocity, stabbing at Goldie’s chest. Goldie crossed her weapons in front of her, forced to take a step back. Milene pressed forward, and Goldie twisted her body, freeing herself from their locked position, and immediately went for the offensive.

Their fight was ferocious, neither of them holding back. Goldie sliced Milene over her tight and earned a cut on her side in return. It hurt like the devil but she didn’t stop, convincing herself that, as long as she could stand, it was only a flesh wound.

"Are you serious," Milene mocked, "you actually care for Scrogie McDuck and his spawn? Well, well, never thought I'd see you go soft!"

Goldie scowled. Her wounds were now getting to her, her moves growing more desperate. And even if she managed to defeat the woman in front of her, she would need to keep her strength to beat up that tiger who was targeting Sharpie. And maybe Scrooge needed help…

But then she noticed something behind them. She knew this place, she realized, the exact spot. She remembered it from her trip with Scrooge. 54 years ago….she hoped it was still intact.

So she put all the strength she could muster, going for an offense after offense, tiring herself more than strictly necessary, but making sure Milene was backing away.

She made a slip-up, her guard was bad and the woman managed to kick her in the side. She howled with pain, bending over, but used the opportunity to slice her opponent’s calf and she let out a painful yelp.

Before Milene fully regained her footing, Goldie pushed at her, making her stumble. Her opponent tried to fight back, but Goldie swiped at her legs. The woman grabbed at Goldie’s shirt, trying to pull her down with her, but she grabbed Goldie’s necklace instead and the duck reached behind her neck unclasping the clip and freeing herself.

Both women fell to the ground, but as Goldie landed on the hard forest floor, Milene landed just where Goldie wanted her, the ground beneath her giving away. Her eyes wide as she realized what was happening, the fighter desperately clawed at the ground, as the ground was slipping under her body.

She barely managed to catch herself at the edge of the pit trap she was falling into, trying to pull herself up.

Goldie forced herself on her pit and walked over to the edge of the trap, staying just far enough so the woman couldn’t pull her in by her ankles.  

“I think this is mine, protects from more than the heat it seems,” Goldie reached for her necklace, snatching her from the woman’s grip, “oh and, you dropped something.”

“NO!” the woman yelled as Goldie pressed an alchemist seal on her hand. The woman’s grip loosened within seconds, and she only held on by one arm.

Goldie got to her feet and approached the edge of the pit, “Night, night,” she said, kicking the woman in the face and making her fall limply and unconsciously on the floor.

She glanced down the empty path. Her side was burning, she was breathing heavily. She had little chance to beat the tiger in a straight fight.

You can run away, O’Gilt. A voice in her head said, Or you can stay, either way, there is an option to get your reputation back. Be the hardened trickster and swindler... And then nobody would talk about you going soft anymore.

She shook her head, clearing her thoughts. A decision made, she turned around, took her dagger, put back her necklace, and slid into the bushes.

……

The dragon was still laying limply, but as Louie approached, he gave off a small huff.

This was the craziest thing Louie was ever going to do in his life. He took a second to think about it, Am I really going to awake a dragon who can make all of us go insane and then crush us to death?

He turned around.

His opponent still lay on the ground, barely able to move a finger, cursing him and everything he held dear. She was incapacitated, but he didn’t know how long the spell would last. Unless he walked all the way to the backpack that he left in the bush, or to the trap the woman freed herself from, he didn’t have anything to tie her with.

Scrooge was God knows where, either still on a chase or in a fight.

One of Goldie’s previous opponents, clearly realizing he was more of a threat than he seemed, was now coming towards Louie. It was the tiger. Great. If he reached him, Louie was doomed. That guy could probably crush him with one hand.

He couldn't see Goldie anywhere, which was probably a bad sign.

He had to do something. And it just so happened that on the adventures the something is usually the craziest thing one could do. This was no exception.

A thousand thoughts went through Louie’s head.

 What if the dragon kills me instantly? Or will he be grateful? Will he be angry I’m helping me only so he could help me? What if he is angry and offended, I can’t learn the name of his species? What if he goes after Aunt Goldie and Uncle Scrooge despite them currently trying to stop the thieves? Wait, I totally should help him anyways, he is in pain, it is the right thing to do? But what if he then kills me and the people I love? Oh, he is totally going to wreck the bad guys, I mean, we are helping, they attacked him! But what if-NO!

No!

Louie shook his head off. This wasn’t a time for long, deep evaluations of risks and benefits. This was a time for quick decision-making. Like Dewey. Like mum. Like Scrooge.

Like him. Occasionally. Even if most times it has unforeseen consequences.

He looked over his shoulder once more, the tiger was now only a few feet away from him and the woman on the floor was cackling as if insane.

“You are doomed, little boy, doomed I tell you!”

Consequences be damned, there was only one way out of this.

He took the two steps to the dragon, crossing the short distance between them.  He reached for the dragon’s horn; fully aware he was now very close to the mouth of the being. He took the round pendant in his hands. It was metal, so he hoped that taking it off would do the thing because there was no way he could break it.

He pulled on the string until it snapped.

It was done.

The dragon was free of the binding.

He didn’t move.

Why wasn’t the Felynedworm moving?

In fact, it was as if he didn’t even notice the seal was removed.

Louie looked at the seal in his palm and realized it was still glowing.

Well, that was probably not good.

That’s when a hand grabbed Louie from behind. 

…..

Hundreds of miles away, in the town of Spoonerville, the sellers were packing their merchandise for the night. Reservations have been made, some items sold under the table, and new friendships formed.

Dewey and  Webby were still excitedly rushing from one of the remaining stands to another, their list of items for friends and family starting to gain its final form. Webby was incredibly excited about everything she found. And, if she was careful and her granny bought her the Masters of Rings as she promised, she might just have enough for the almanac, and gifts for all of her friends.

Suddenly, a woman with a microphone was in front of them, “Melanie Gooston, I’m with Spoonerville Daily, is it true that you are heirs of Scrooge McDuck?”

“Um?” Webby barely managed before another journalist appeared in front of her, “I don’t think we should-“

“Hi, Klaus Furrington, Dailynest, is it true you will now inherit all the assets of Mr. McDuck as his sole true heir?” another microphone was pushed into Webby’s face.

“Are the rumors about cloning true?” the third journalist asked.

“Are you here to sell artifacts?” asked the fourth.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” the fifth appeared on her right, “Does your father approve of him?”

Webby looked at Dewey who returned her an anxious glance. He liked the attention, sure. But he didn’t like being ganged up upon by a bunch of noisy tabloid journalists who were asking way too personal questions as if they were asking what time it was.

“EVERYONE LEAVE!” a booming British voice tore through the clamour and Mrs. Beakley pushed herself through the crowd. “CAN’T I EVEN GO TO THE TOILET WITHOUT YOU GANGLING AROUND LIKE SHARKS TO THE BLOOD! HAVE YOU NO SHAME, THESE ARE CHILDREN! YOU CAN’T TALK TO THEM WITHOUT THE CONSENT OF THEIR LEGAL GUARDIAN!”

“And you might be?” Melanie Gooston asked, undeterred, pushing the microphone in Beakley’s face.

“Aren’t you just a housekeeper?” Klaus Furrington pushed himself in front of Melanie.

“And still a legal guardian of Webbigail, and chaperone to her and Dewey Duck, so unless you want three lawsuits, one from me, one from Dewey’s mother and one from McDuck himself, I would suggest you scatter! Now!” Mrs. Beakley’s voice was lower, but still just as threatening. The journalists started putting their equipment away, but whether they were scared of a lawsuit or plainly spooked by her granny, either option being completely understandable, Webby couldn’t tell.

“Come on, children. Let’s talk to security about who they are letting in and then go to the hotel,” she gestured to them as the crowd of journalists dispersed. However, Webby stood, as if buried in one spot.

“Webby?” Dewey asked, “You, ok?”

“I’m, I’ll be fine,” she took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m fine, just a bit frazzled. Didn’t expect that!” she said with forced cheerfulness.

“Come on, Webby, dear,” Mrs. Beakley said, nudging the girl gently toward the exit, “I’m so sorry.”

“You were keeping them away this whole time, huh?” Webby asked.

“Well, I mostly glared at anyone who I thought might be a journalist. I hoped the effect would linger slightly, but apparently, they tried to make their moves as soon as I was in the toilet. I'm sorry, Webbigail.”

“It’s not your fault. Oh, I’m so, so stupid! I said to a few people I’m a McDuck and they probably told the journalists and now the evening is ruined! No, no, not ruined! I’m fine!”

“Oh, Webby dear,” Beakley crouched in front of her, “it’s not on you. They would probably recognize you even if you were keeping completely quiet.”

“Yeah, and I told just as many people about mum and Uncle Scrooge so if you’re stupid, I’m stupid as well!” Dewey put a comforting arm around Webby’s shoulders and she gave him a small smile.

“Besides, even if you climbed on the top of the spectator seats and screamed about who you are from the bottom of your lungs, it would give those leeches no right to gang up on you like that,” Mrs. Beakley said, “I meant what I said to them, you are both clever but you are still children.

“But, you won’t push for a lawsuit?” Webby asked.

“No, no dear,” Beakley whispered, her tone conspiratory, “it was only a threat, not as empty one, as we could do it, but I wasn’t really planning in it.”

“Good, I don’t think I want to deal with that!”  Webby said.

“Ok,” Mrs. Beakley said, taking Webby’s hand, “Now, I do want to talk to the security to keep these people, and hopefully their associates, out. I doubt we are the only people they bothered. And then we could go for hamburgers, what do you say?”

“Can I get the Xtreme Super Spicey Spiceburger from that restaurant we saw on our way here?” Dewey asked.

“Will you eat it? Keep in mind, Violet is not with us to trade with you,” Mrs. Beakley said, somewhat amused.

“Maybe just regular spicy hamburger then…” Dewey concluded sheepishly.

Beakley and Webby laughed and the three of them left the fair, still in good mood. However, that weird feeling in Webby’s belly returned, gnawing at her as she followed her granny and Dewey out of the hall.

…….

Between Beakley’s worry, Dewey’s excitement, and Webby’s uneasiness nobody noticed a figure with a wicked gleam in their eyes that slipped into the hallway that lead into the changing rooms.

He was right, as soon as that little girl started yammering on about the artifacts, he knew something was up with the girl. And then she mentioned the gauntlet of Medusa. 

He knew it would work. Sell fakes, be very open about it, proud of your replicas. Because once you’re open with people, they are more likely to be open with you back. They mention an artifact they saw here, an old amulet they keep in their garage, an ancient scroll their elderly aunt keeps above the mantle.

And then you strike.

He alerted the others immediately, this wasn’t just a senile elderly woman keeping that one piece of a family heirloom in an unlocked drawer among her socks.

This was Little McDuck. And she was their ticket to a motherload of ancient artifacts.

But for him, it was also personal. Because where little McDuck was, 22 wasn’t far behind.

And he was right again, there she stood, comforting two children like a regular nanny. Oh how far the great ones fall. She was the reason for their downfall once, and now, they would use her for their gain. She and her beloved, fake granddaughter would lead them to a treasure trove of real deal artifacts.

Revenge was sweet.

He retreated into one of the changing rooms, temporary storage for the sellers. There was a lot to plan for tomorrow.

…….

Travis was furious. He was part of the group from the very beginning. Ever since they came up with their mission on that first meeting in a dingy basement, he was there. “Stupid Robert, picking newbies as his close partners and leaving me to do the grunt work and fight children.”

At least he got the worthy opponent-Goldie O’Gilt. It was hard to believe she went straight. He would bet his right hand she was going to hoodwink that old man Scrooge when he saw them climbing the mountain. With a kid no less. What was with Scrooge McDuck and the kids? There were always kids around that guy.

But now O’Gilt as well as the kid spirited away. One moment he is running after the boy the next the boy is nowhere to be seen and he is combing the woods after him. He had to give it to the little one, he was smarter than one of the newbies. Being taken down by her own seals, seals wielded by a kid who knew nothing about them, pathetic.

On the other hand, the kid did believe he would be able to free the dragon by just ripping the seal off him, what a little fool.

“Well, will you come out already,” he shouted over the bushes. “You can’t hide forever and when I find you-2

“Geez, give it a break, you’re going to wake up the tourists at the motel down at the airport,” he heard a voice behind him. He turned around, ready to fight her but stopped, stunned.

O'Gilt was holding the kid, one of her hands over his beak, the other held a knife to his throat. The kid looked utterly terrified, frozen in place, only burying himself deeper into Goldie, trying to put more distance between himself and the blade.

“What is the meaning of this? I thought those were your allies, O’Gilt!” he snarled.

“Allies? Ha, don’t make me laugh,” Goldie replied. “You know how easy it is for me to swindle McDuck? I just bat my eyes and, he’s all mine. This little twerp ain’t much better, are you Sharpie?” she pressed the knife a tad closer to his throat as the kid tried to wiggle free. The boy whimpered, growing even paler than he already was.

“But you, I….you threw Milene into the pit!”

“Well, duh, I had to take down someone to make them buy it! And Milene once tricked me at the game of poker, so she had it coming. You don’t cross Goldie O’Gilt without it coming back to bite you.” She said, pushing the kid to walk towards him.

“And the other guy..”

“The stork? Like I would allow a master alchemist to take me down. Don’t worry, Robert knows all about it, once he’s back, you can ask him.”

“Why lead McDuck here then, why not just leave us to take the candelabra and-“

“Well, see, it’s a matter of personal satisfaction.”

“So Milene was right,” Travis grinned wickedly, “You really weren’t protecting the little worm.” He stared at the kid who visibly swallowed.

“Pfft, please. The little idiot thought he could free the dragon by just taking the seal off. Ha! Well, I let him believe it. Hoped one of you could get the job done, but obviously not.”

“Then why try to get me to come back to fight you? And why didn’t you come out then the first time I called?”

“Oh my god, see this is why Robert doesn’t take you as his right-hand man, you don’t get anything. I needed the kid,” she clamped on the boy’s beak a bit harder and the boy winced, “to buy that I'm on his side. Also, I needed to get one of you away so you don’t, you know, skewer me like a kebab. And then it was just a matter of reverse psychology. I tell you to come back and you think you should keep doing what you're doing. If you took the kid out, well, all the better. As for staying in the bushes, well, this little guy may be an idiot, but he’s a slippery idiot. And he already slipped through the hands of one of your teammates, couldn’t risk him somehow climbing down and alarming his allies. Kids today with their phones, one line, and he could call his mummy!” Goldie pushed the boy towards him and the kid squealed. She and Travis were now at an arms-length distance.

“I thought you weren’t into concurring the world business.”

“Oh, see Travis, it’s not the matter of business, it’s personal pride. That dragon there, the Felynedworm, he stopped me the last time I came here. So, this time I decided to join the crew that could take it down. Plain and simple.” She shrugged, a sly smirk on her face.

“I knew someone like you would never go straight,” he said.

“Straight? Please, not in a million years. Though I have to say, bold move going for the candelabra. Even F.O.W.L. never aimed at it. But you are a group of much stronger men and women, much more than that old hack Bradford.”

“Come one, FOWL were fools, aiming too low! I’ll give that old fraud this, he tricked Scrooge McDuck and tricked him well. But controlling people through controlling chaos, please. Like there wouldn’t be another Scrooge McDuck, or Goldie O’Gilt, or even Zan Owlson popping up within a few decades, years even! Some naïve, good-natured idiot, or someone like us, looking for number one. Nah, you have to get to people directly. But you know what, if you’re here just for revenge, I’m sure you’re not interested in the story. Maybe we have time for something else though…” for a woman who was supposedly in her 140s, she had no right looking like that.

“Oh, I am, very much so, but I’m kind of running out of time,” she said, her expression turning from a sly grin to a smug scowl.

“What?” Travis asked when he felt something touching his leg, the next moment the touch turned into searing pain. “Aaarggghh! You double-crossing hag!” he noticed that the kid, Goldie’s knife now a whole few inches away from his throat, pressed a seal against his leg.

“Aww, Travis, you really know how to flatter a girl oomph-“ Travis didn’t let Goldie finish, kicking the kid into her. She moved quickly, pulling the knife away from the kid and pushing him behind her.

But then he realized. His leg wasn’t just hurting, it was growing numb. The next moment he collapsed.

“Taken down by his own seal,” The kid kneeled next to him as his arms started to give away as well, just far enough so Travis couldn’t reach him “pathetic.”

“Yeah, it really is sad, Sharpie,” Goldie said, standing over him, “and I have to say, I see why Robert chose newbies if you are the oldie. Night, night to you as well.” She hit him over the head with the handle of her knife and everything went dark.

….

Goldie and Louie stood over the tiger’s limp body, heaving, shaking with relief.

He was still waiting for the dragon to wake when two hands grabbed him from behind, one clasping his beak and the other over his chest. He tried to squirm away, kicking at his attacker, elbowing them satisfied for a moment as they grunted with pain before he realized the voice sounded familiar.

The next moment a knife appeared under his throat.

“No time to explain,” Goldie whispered in his ear, “I need you to trust me and follow my lead, ‘k Louie?” It wasn’t the confident, sly tone she usually carried herself with. Her tone was bordering on desperate, almost begging. And she used his name…

A part of his brain screamed betrayal and he wanted to run away. The other part, the bigger part, still trusted her through fear and doubt even as she whispered, “my right pocket, a paralysis seal is inside, reach into it and use it when you get the chance.”

He only barely managed to grab it and chase the thoughts that screamed at him to slap Goldie with it and bolt when she pushed him out of the bushes and towards their attacker, a knife under his throat, but never touching it.

He didn’t have to fake much of his fear from that point on. He did play up the whimpers and winces a bit as Goldie never actually hurt him

It was not easy staying still, not easy hearing her say all those things about him and Scrooge. However, once he reached into her pocket, an alchemist seal was there. A way to easily take her down. And she knew that.

So he decided to trust her, even when everything in him screamed to run away.

Looking at the man they just took down with little effort, he shook with relief. He was right, he could trust her.

“Whoa, that was-“ Louie started to say.

“Are you ok?” Goldie looked at him, her eyes were uncharacteristically concerned. 

“Huh?”

Goldie lifted his chin, “Your throat I didn’t-…”

“What? No, no, and even if you left a scratch, it would’ve been an accident.” Louie shook her hand off and she let out a breath of relief. “I know that it would have been an accident.” He looked into her eyes and she nodded. 

He got a good look at her for the first time since he sprinted out of that bush. “Are you ok? Oh my, I’m sorry I think I elbowed you right in that wounded side!” he winced.

“It’s ok, Sharpie, I’m glad your fight or flight kicked in with a vengeance,” she said even as she was breathing heavily and painfully, “You sure you are fine?”

“Just scratches, what’s next? Why did the dragon not wake up? What did I do wrong?”

“Can’t just take that thing off, someone has to break the spell. If you don’t break it, we have to wait for it to wear off, same as my arm which hurts like bitch!” she wasn’t in the mood to censor herself, kid or no kid, “Now, I go get your uncle. His goons may be idiots, but this Robert guy, he is no joke.”

“Wait, shouldn’t we tie them up or something?”

“Oh don’t worry kid, one is injured in a pit and the two others, well, unless they convince a rat passing by to remove their seals, they are not a problem as long as those are on their bodies. You stay here and-“

“What?”

“I said stay here,”  she said, “there, hide behind there,” she pointed to a rock at the back of the cave.”

“Yeah, I heard you, but I’m not staying here!”

“Kid, this is dangerous…”

“And the sky is blue, captain obvious! I helped! No way am I staying here, I’m just going to follow you anyways!” he said defiantly.

“Oh my god, you truly are your mother’s child! Fine! But from now on you are listening to everything I say!”

“And you truly are a typical adult…”

“Sharpie, so help me god, if you don’t listen,”

“All right, all right, jeez, don’t have to go all aunt on me! I’ll listen!”

“Good!” Goldie ignored the implication Sharpie just made, and focused on the task at hand, “No come on. Let’s get your uncle's ass from whatever he got himself into!”

…..

Scrooge was losing, even through his pride, he could admit that. His leg was pulsing painfully, one of his cheeks was swollen with a bruise, his shoulder hurt and dried blood clung to the feathers on his injured palm.

But he was still on his feet, managing to avoid the blades and seals. Both of his opponents were maimed, even as he didn’t feel particularly gleeful about harming a teenager. They were in better shape than he was, but if he played it right, he still had a chance. He was losing but all was not lost.  

But just as Scrooge was starting to get a semblance of an upper hand, he felt pain on the small of his back. “No!” Scrooge yelled as searing pain started to crawl down his spine and into his legs.

However, what he truly hated was the wobbly feeling he started to get in his lower limbs.

He took one last desperate step towards the older opponent and managed to disarm him, making his cutlass fly into the ravine before collapsing.

“Scrooge!” he heard Goldie’s voice and someone rushing down the rocky path towards him.

“Uncle Scrooge!” he heard Louie yell, their voices still distant.

Curse me kilts, those two are going to get themselves killed.

“Fuck,” the older out of the two men grunted. “Come on,” he started to climb down the mountain. “that was the second to last seal and I’m not risking facing O’Gilt and one of Scrooge’s kids in this state,”  he was clutching his shoulder, where Scrooge managed to get a good cut with a knife.

“So we’re letting him-“

“Live? Yes, remember, we don't kill unless in self-defense. Now move,” he nudged the boy down and they started climbing, down.

It was about five minutes before Goldie reached him, Louie a few feet behind her, as he lay limp and helpless on the ground.

“Lad, Goldie!” he shouted and the two of them were next to him in seconds,

“What the, oh no!” Goldie said, crouching next to him, “Scrooge, listen I didn’t know. I swear on my life, hell I swear on my-“

“Goldie I know,” Scrooge said, “Now, I need you to-“

“Don’t you fuckin’ interrupt me-“

“Language!”

“Well, good to know your head is intact since you can complain about that shit even though you are half-paralyzed!” Goldie said as Scrooge frowned.

“They got you? Well, sh-poop!” Louie reached them and kneeled next to him and took the seal off his back, tossing it into the ravine.

“Alchemist seal, paralysis,” Scrooge muttered, “Will last for a few hours now. But, never mind that! Go after him he went that way!” he pointed his chin down the path, while Goldie hunched over him. “Have you two gone deaf or are you daft? I told you to-“

“What? Leave you helpless and paralyzed on the forest floor? Not going to happen McDuck!” Goldie said, turning him on his back and then propping him up and Scrooge heard her grunt.

“Am not helpless! Besides it’s more important to-“

“I’m not leaving you alone!” Goldie yelled, “Not- not this time.” She said, almost inaudible.

“Louie, talk some sense into this woman!”

“This woman?!” Goldie shook her head.

“That man has arguably the most dangerous artifact in the world in his hands and we’re just letting him get away and-“

“Oh, you just have to be the stoic one!” Goldie accused him.

“I’m just saying that-“

“That it’s dark,” Louie interrupted him, “and you’re hurt, and I’m hurt and Goldie is hurt and it would be stupid to go through that woods in the dead of the night, let alone down this path, we almost killed ourselves trice trying to reach you!” Louie finished earning a very displeased look from his uncle which quickly turned into concern as what Louie said fully sunk in.

“Wait, you said you’re both hurt!?” He turned to Louie first, scanning the boy for injuries.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. I mean I’m hurt a bit but it’s nothing major. My ankle hurts a bit, but it’s not broken or sprained. Just don’t wanna rush through dark woods alone hurt.”

“And Goldie, are you?” he looked at her, and gulped, noticing a cut on her cheek and a dark stain on her side. “Oh, Goldie.”

“Some cuts and bruises but I had worse,” Goldie said, but scrooge heard she was gritting her teeth.

“Who is trying to be the stoic one now…”

“I’m not trying to convince you two to leave me alone! It’s a quite bad cut on my side, but I’ll manage, it's not bleeding heavily. We have to get you up the hill somehow.”

“Goldie…”

“I’m. Not. Leaving you. Not this time,” she said again. “But I need you to believe me that I-“

“She didn’t do anything, ok? She got me out of a really bad scrape with that tiger and she protected me and ok, the plan was risky but-“

“Calm down you two,” Scrooge said, almost sounding annoyed, “of course I trust you!” he said to Goldie, looking her in the eyes, his gaze piercing. It was her turn to gasp in shock. “What? Look, I know what many would say but, Goldie, I’ve known you for over a hundred years. If you wanted to see me fail at this or you wanted that blasted candelabra for yourself you wouldn’t be here right now!”

Goldie nodded, “Good. Now, Sharpie, help me drag this old hunk of bones back to the cave.”

“What? We have a man to follow and-“ Scrooge said.

“For crying out loud how stubborn can you be!“ Goldie, who was halfway through picking him up, let him drop back down on the floor, and he grunted. She crouched in front of him, staring him down, “We are not going to trek through the dark woods while dragging your paralyzed ass any further than we have to. And for the third time, no I’m not leaving you here alone. Nor am I leaving you here alone with Sharpie. No offence kid, you have a sharp mind but you’re not the best fighter out there!”

“None taken, please don’t leave me alone in the cave, woods, or wherever,” he made a step closer to her.

“See, Sharpie’s on my side!” she pulled him into a side-hug.

“So take him with ye!”

“Is he even listening?!” Goldie turned to Louie.

“Probably not!” the boy replied, looking up at her.

“I mean it’s like talking to a wall!!

“Worse, walls sometimes have microphones. This is like screaming underwater in a pool at the nursing home for the deaf.” Louie said flatly.

“He is listening very well, and he just thinks that-” Scrooge tired saying from the ground.

“Look, I don’t like it either," Goldie interrupted him, "That man needs to be stopped. He said that Bradford aimed too low and that one almost killed us all!”

“Please don’t remind me…”

“But, that candelabra can only be activated 24 hours after it’s been taken from the pedestal. Bless that Felynedworm and his precaution measures! It’s…8.23 PM Mountain Standard Time now. Let’s say he picked it up at around 8, make it 7 or even six, just to be sure. We have 21 hours for you to recover and, most importantly to figure out a plan.”

“And where he is taking it!”

“That too, thank you Sharpie!”

“You’re welcome!”

“You two are going to be the death of me!”

“We just saved your life, chasing those two away!”

“They wouldn’t have killed me, apparently they have a no-kill policy,” Scrooge said, but this earned him another frown from Goldie, “Fine, you’re right. We need a plan. And the three of us together will figure something out.”

Golde managed to pull him on his feet somehow, and she and Louie started to drag him, occasionally wincing, up the craggy, unstable path.

The situation seemed hopeless. But the three sharpest minds in the world were already on it, each of them pondering the possibilities and solutions already and knowing the other two were doing the same.

Chapter Text

Goldie and Louie helped Scrooge to the cave, both elders barely suppressing winces of pain by the time they got up the ledge. The room was about the size of Scrooge’s foyer. There was an empty pedestal in the room. It looked somewhat sad, though it still gave off a mild glow and even milder warmth that filled the cave.

They set Scrooge inside and then went back to tie their attackers up. They left Travis, the stork, and the swan propped up next to a fallen log. Milene was shouting profanities from the pit trap, but Goldie let her be. Even if she wasn’t paralyzed and injured, she wouldn’t get out of that trap easily. They would deal with those four clowns later.

“Makes me miss good-old, can’t move, can’t feel paralysis I experienced back in ‘54,” Scrooge said as they returned said as they sat him down, “this is horrid!”

“Does it feel any better?” Louie asked, kneeling next to his uncle. His body hurt and his arms felt tired and rubbery from helping pull Scrooge’s weight uphill, but he was otherwise fine.

“Not by much, but at least it’s not spreadin’. I think I have some more movement in my upper body now, come to think about it,” he tried moving his torso and, while his face scrunched with pain, he managed some movement, “Mobile, but painful,” he heaved. “The movement in me arms returned almost entirely,” he said, moving his forearms and opening and closing his fists.

“Good thing Sharpie thought to remove that seal from you immediately otherwise you would be more useless than a mouldy sack of potatoes,” Goldie said, lowering herself on the floor, breathing heavily, “less so, at least we could throw the mouldy potatoes at the bad guys!”

Scrooge swatted her lightly on the arm and she met his mildly annoyed stare with a wry grin. This was good, despite everything they still had enough energy to annoy each other.

Still, she was tired, Louie tried his best, but she was the one dragging most of Scrooge’s weight despite her injuries. It took them almost an hour to cross the distance she and Louie previously ran over in a few minutes.

“I still think you should’ve followed that Robert guy!” Scrooge grumbled.

“Oh, will you shut up! How about a thank you for dragging your useless ass uphill!” she yelled, barely able to hide the pain in her voice.

Scrooge winced. He let out a long sigh, “Thank you two, don’t know what I’d do without ye,” he gave them a small but warm smile.

“Well, there, was that so hard?” Goldie asked, almost amused. “Now, the first order of business.” She started to get up, “Apparently, our brains are getting foggy since, while down there, we forgot to get our bags, I’m getting our supplies back, so we don’t starve, or freeze. Or bleed out.”

“Wait,” Louie interrupted, standing up before she could “I’ll go. I know where our backpacks are.”

“Sharpie-”

“I’ll be fine,” he interrupted her. “There’s still a bit of light and I have my phone!” he said, “Just…don’t blackout while I’m gone, ok? Look, don’t fight me on this, I can do it on my own!”

Typical Duck stubbornness strikes again, she thought. But, even if she would never admit it out loud, she didn’t have it in her to fight the kid.

“Takes more than this to take me down, Sharpie,” she said in the end, pushing herself to her feet. The kid opened his beak to protest but she spoke before he could say anything, “Go, I’ll stay here to watch you and make sure you don’t get hurt.”

Scrooge looked at the two, as his youngest great-nephew walked out of the cave, a dagger in one hand and a mobile phone in the other, a mix of apprehension and determination on his face, and Goldie, leaning on the cave entrance, holding her hand to her bloodied side.

“How bad is the situation really?” he asked once he was certain Louie was out of the earshot.

“Don’t think we can hide much from Sharpie, Sourdough,” she said, “I’ll be fine, you know I had worse. The kid took the seal of the Felynedworm. Hoped the creature would help us. The spell is still not wearing off though and if that beast decides we’re trouble…”

“Eh, not like us being in better shape would help us against his mind attacks. I just hope he’ll leave Louie alone," he said worriedly, "Let me see that cut Goldie,”

“I’m fine!”

“You’re marginally better than I am, which is to say not fine at all. Goldie, let me see the injury.” he was unyielding.

“My, my, if you want me to take my clothes off, maybe you should wait till we’re in a bit more private space, Scroogie,” she looked over her shoulder, winking suggestively.

“Tatter me tartans,” he muttered, blushing, “that’s not it and you know it!”

“I know, but it’s fun to see you blush,” she said, making him blush even more. The man was ridiculous, 150 years of age, red like a schoolkid at his first dance. “Wait till Sharpie gets back with our supplies; I have a first-aid kit with me.”

“Hope you won’t need stitches, my hands are still a bit numb,”

“If it comes to it, I can stitch myself up fine,” she retorted.

“But you don’t have to,” he said gently.

“I know. Look, I don’t have a surgical kit anyway. Remember, this was supposed to be a fun, short trip. Should've known we're just jinxing, calling it that!”

They were quiet for a moment, when Louie, breathing heavily, walked into the cave.

“Here…” he panted, “couldn’t find…Scrooge’s…” he dropped his and Goldie’s backpacks on the floor and then slumped, practically lying down on the floor. He took his bag and pulled out a sandwich and only then did Goldie realize that not only was she hurting all over, but she was also ravenous.

“Louie, lad,” Scrooge said from his position at the back of the cave, “any bigger injuries?”

“Nope, told you, some scraped elbows and palms, ankle hurts, but nothing major,” Louie said, having already finished one sandwich and taking out a bag of chips.

“Good, then take a breather and then do me a favour and keep guard for a while.”

“What, Sharpie gets to play guard while you nurse me to health?” Goldie quipped, walking over to her backpack.

“Yup, keeping guard, staying as far as I can from A, blood and B, old people romance!” Louie agreed, dragging himself over to the very entrance of the cave.

Goldie passed by him, ruffling his hair, “Don’t worry, Scrooge is worrying too much. Nothing’s going to attack us. Eat and then go to sleep. So, I can wake you up in an hour when I get to sleep and when we’ll actually require a guard!” she said. She was tempted to do so, even as she mostly intended to leave him rest. Lord, what was she turning into?

“Yeah, fine, can do that” Louie yawned, walked over to his bag, and set down his sleeping bag.

Goldie walked over to Scrooge, sat down, and unbuttoned her vest, taking it off and discarding it. Then she ripped the torn piece of her shirt off, revealing the nasty cut.

Scrooge hissed at the sight, reaching for the first-aid kit.

“That bad, huh, Scroogie?”

“Not very deep, but rather long. Doesn’t look great, and it’s still bleeding mildly.” He put on sterile gloves from the first-aid kit and checked the edges of the cut.

“Gee, don’t say, haven’t noticed,” she said, wincing as he started to rinse the wound with an antiseptic. “Remind me to never leave for an adventure with you without anything to close a wound properly!”

“Who did this?” he asked.

“I don’t need you to go defend my honour Scroogie,” she rebuffed.

“Not implying you do, just asking,” he looked at her shortly. 

She rolled her eyes, “Milene. The tall woman I fought. Taught her a lesson about being a cheat in poker.”

“A wee bit hypocritical there, aren’t we?” Scrooge asked cheekily. 

“You can’t cheat Goldie O’Gilt in poker, that doesn’t mean she can’t cheat you,” she winked. “I got her good, she’s stuck in that old pit trap!” she snickred.

“Just luck, or did you know it would be there?” Scrooge asked, taking sterile gauze out, “I would suggest you have this reassessed as soon as possible. It will probably need stitches, but it's just bandage for now.”

“Fine. I just hope I get a decent doctor! And yes, I knew the trap would be there,” Goldie replied. “What about that net?”

“Well, I may have set some precautions….in case…well” he faltered.

“In case I came back to get it, come on, I won’t be offended. Who do you think I made that pit trap for? Santa? I’m not you. Though I heard you’re on better terms these days”

“Where’d you hear that from?” He leaned over, taping gauze over her injury, and then started wrapping a bandage around her torse. It was awkward, as he was forced to remain in a sitting position.

“Sharpie told me, I'll have you know I thought the kid was pulling my leg. But then I encountered the man himself, trapped in those glass prisons together, remember?” she helped him as he was awkwardly trying to reach her other side.

“You and Santa chatting about me? Forgive me, but I find that hard to imagine.”

“Listen, anything beats von Drake’s harmonica. Chatting with Santa, listening to that Dee chick talk about science. I know more about cloud kicking than any sane person should, but even Kit's rablings were acceptable. And, I will sound like an awful person, but I was glad once they brought those Donald’s friends just to hear some decent music after weeks! Anything to shut von Drake’s harmonica up!”

“Even hearing Zeus complain, and I’m assuming he complained a lot?” Scrooge asked sympathetically. Being trapped within feet of that god sounded like the worst of punishments to him.

“Oh no, that is one thing I’ll even take the harmonica over! I'll take nails on chalkboard over that! You know he tried to flirt with every woman they brought in? Me, Dee, that pilot, the Moonlander, Hela…that last one was fun to watch," she said deviously remembering how he, Zeus, the great head of Olympus, cowered under Hela's gaze even as she was trapped in a glass case, unable to do him any harm, "He flirted with Heron!”

“Eh, sounds like him all right,” Scrooge frowned, “so, should I be getting worried?” he teased.

“Please, he is probably the only man who rates even below Glomgold on my list of datable men! Actually, I may be straight but most women I know rate higher.”

“And where does Glomgold rate?”

“Don’t worry, way lower than you!”

“Oh, I know that, just want to rub it into his face next I see him! There, now, your arm and cheek,” he said, taping the bandage, gently turning her face to him.

“Yours doesn’t look much better,” she gently touched his bruised cheek where the skin broke and he leaned into her hand, “And that cut on your leg looks nasty, maybe you should join me on my future visit to the ER.” She said as he returned his attention to her injuries  

“I’ll have Beakley check it later,” he said, cleaning and bandaging the minor cut on her arm. “We haven’t been this battered since what, 83?” he asked.

“I felt like a daisy in the spring in ’83 compared to this,” Goldie said, as he put a small gauze over her cheek. “I’ll deny I was the first to say this and blame it on you or Sharpie, but we should probably call for help,” she said, taking her phone out, “Accursed piece of junk, no signal. What good it this modern technology if we can’t even call anyone!”

“Goldie, who are we going to call? You heard what the lad said about Della and Launchpad, I won’t have them flying here!”

“I have two perfectly capable pilots on my pay list, they can come up. Or they could if we could reach them!” she barely resisted the urge to chuck the phone across the cave.

“Neither of us thought to take a radio, did we,” Scrooge checked his phone only to see what he knew he would-no signal. “Note to self, have me scientists look into bettering the service!”

“What, challenging Beaks as the head tech mogul?”

“Trust me, Gyro, Fenton, and Gandra would all like to one-up that excuse for a billionaire!”

“So, you don’t want to worry family and, well, not many people I can call, not ones I trust at least. Who do we have?”

“Beakley.”

“Oh no! Call whoever you will, call fucking Santa if you want but not that woman!”

“I’ll have to call her, Goldie. Webbigail is with her. Dewey is with her. And they are not in the safety of the manor, where Duckworth can scare intruders away.”

“Never stopped me before,” Goldie retorted.

“Because it’s you!” He chuckled.

“Are you implying he was easy on me?”

“I was trying to imply you don’t scare easy. But perhaps you are onto something. Would be a good way to get on Beakley’s nerves.”

“Ok, I can respect that,” she said, “Now, scoot over, let me see that leg. Patching each other up in a cave. This really is like ’83 all over again.”

“No cultists this time,” he said as she patched his leg up. It was a clean cut, but it hurt like the devil because of the spell making his skin extra sensitive. She was quiet as she cleaned and wrapped his leg up.

“You might be wrong on that one,” she said after a few minutes. She reached into the pocket of her trousers, taking out a piece of paper.

“Is that the tattoo all of those guys had?” The third voice joined the conversation.

“What, Sharpie?”

Louie sat next to them, “Can’t sleep, mind in fifth gear,” he shrugged, “and you are underestimating me if you think I haven’t noticed those,” he said, "also here, you should eat." he handed them both sandwiches.

“What are you two talking about?” Scrooge wondered, taking the food from Louie.

“This,” Goldie said, handing Scrooge the paper. “I copied the symbol each of them has tattooed on their wrist.”

Scrooge blanched, “Good grief! And this is why you should have left me and followed them-“

“So, we’re back at this!” she pinched her forehead, “Scrooge McDuck, having to be the great hero, sacrificing by staying in the woods like a pile of old socks, a snack for any carnivore passing by!”

“Oh, quit your fussing, I would’ve chased them away!”

“With what?”

“I’d find a way!”

“Right, you know what, when I think about it, no wolf, bear nor any animal with an actual brain would try eating you! I hear too much pig-headedness is bad for your stomach!”

“Are you calling me pig-headed? You know what, never mind,” he waved it off, focusing back on Goldie’s drawing “this is bad.”

“Well, no shit! Does it ring any bells?” Goldie asked. “I have a feeling I should know what it means, but I can’t place it.”

“It’s an alchemist symbol, isn’t it?” Louie narrowed his eyes at Scrooge.

“Aye, Beakley once had to break up a branch of this group in Duckburg. Nasty, for lack of a better word, the cult of alchemists. The cult of Escuriada, they called themselves. Now I don’t know much about alchemy. I can fully admit that. But this branch of alchemy, the one they were practicing, not much good came from it. And this cult is not an exception.”

“What were they doing?” Louie asked.

“Typical, bent on world domination, mind-controlling the masses, yadda, yadda… Didn’t get far,” Scrooge shrugged.

“Didn’t get far? Um, that guy ran off with a candle that can control people after knocking out a mind-melting dragon and you two!” Louie shouted, “I think that is far enough!”

“Well, they weren’t at this point in the late 80s when the raid I mentioned happened!” Scrooge said defensively, “I don’t remember much of it. They weren’t pleasant, but they didn’t manage to do much damage, have only been active for a few years. Tried to revive some forgotten medieval practice. Beakley hasn’t spoken much of it, the only reason a seasoned agent of her profile was on the case is that one of the agents that were supposed to do it had gotten ill!”

“So now we have to deal with a cult of evil, medieval-times-loving, magic chemists who want to conquer a world with a candle! Great!” Louie puffed. Leave it to Sharpie to sum the dismal situation they were in in the most ridiculous, yet accurate, way possible.

“Kid, is this really the strangest thing you heard of?” Goldie asked.

“No, and that is what scares me. So, any idea of where they could be?”

“No, haven’t heard of anything of their activity ever since the early 90s. Beakley and another agent worked to put an end to them, did a rather good job, but possibly some of them managed to go under the radar. Goldie?”

“I’ve got nothing. Look, I’ve encountered some of these guys…underground, Travis is a big idiot, but a decently efficient muscle, Milene is a cheat at poker, and Robert, well, he could be an actual threat. Never knew the three were affiliated, let alone interested in magic any more than anyone else would be. The others I never saw in my life, but Travis called them newbies.”

“Right, one looks young, too young…” Scrooge trailed off. Goldie knew what was on his mind. Ever since Donald and Della were in his life, he had a particularly soft spot for children. The last few years only exacerbated it.

“So…should we call Beakley?” Louie suggested.

Scrooge looked at her, and she knew what he was going to ask.

“Wait, are you more worried about her saying ‘told you so’ than finding this guy?” Sharpie gave them a blank stare.

“No, I’m with you lad. But Beakley and Goldie…

“Well, what you’re going to do about it! Call the old hag, I can deal with her! If she is the only one who can help, eugh- if either of you ever spills that I said this you are joining Milene in that pit-but fine, call her for help!”

“Thank you, Goldie. I mean, Beakley should be safe at that fair but I would like to give her a heads up as soon as we manage to get any phone signal. Webbigail and Dewey are with her and…”

Goldie sighed, “You want to give them a warning, so your kids don’t get hurt, right. Well, whatever, won’t be my first time dealing with old 22.”

“We’ll vouch for you,” Louie said casually, and Goldie felt something weird in her chest.

Scrooge turned to him, “Now that we know what we should do and have a beginning of a plan, go to sleep, lad. We move with first light.”

“But don’t we have to figure the rest of this out? Like what they want, where they are going?”

“We won’t have to. Thanks to you, no less.” Scrooge said, with a proud smile “you may not have managed to free the Felynedworm from the effect of the seal fully, but he will wake at some point during the night.”

“He won’t, you know…make us go insane?”

“No, especially not you, the one who freed him. Tried to, at least. Besides, there are four people down there for him to take his anger out on.”

“You think he will go stop them?”

“Probably, and he will surely wake by morning, now go to sleep Louie, we won’t get anyway by tiring ourselves our completely.”

“Ok, I’ll try to sleep. Sheesh, never thought I would ever say that…try to sleep! Sleeping is like one thing that shouldn’t take effort…” Louie shuffled to his sleeping bag, “Night you two,”

“Good night lad.”

“Night Sharpie,” Goldie said, leaning back on the cave wall “Well, I feel useless.”

“Right,” Scrooge said, sounding downcast, “Curse me legs. They don’t hurt as much now, which is good, the spell is wearing off. But I still can’t move them for the life of me. Goldie, I know you are tired as well, but…would you mind taking the first shift. I wouldn’t ask but I don’t think I would do much help in this state were something to happen.”

“So, you finally admit you are a useless sack of potatoes right now, huh?” Goldie asked, but her tone was soft. “I’ll stand guard, you get some sleep, Sourdough.

“Are you certain? It was just-“

“A suggestion, I know. Go to sleep, you old sad sack, that way you get the worse shift-the one right before the morning,” she chuckled, walking over to her backpack, “Let’s get you into a sleeping bag, don’t want you to freeze. This thing is like the worst radiator in the history,” she pointed to the pedestal.

“I can get myself into a sleeping bag!” he said, hard-headed as ever, but as he tried to move over he fell down on his face, and was unable to properly turn himself around.

“Ok, so you are fine like that? Good, I’ll just head over to the cave entrance and…

“Goldie…um, I might need a bit of assistance...” Scrooge said, red in his face, sounding so miserable she almost didn’t have the heart to tease him.

Almost, she had a reputation to upkeep after all. As she helped him in his sleeping bag, there was more bickering, but it was half-hearted.

“I’ll wake you up in four hours, old man,” she said, taking a blanket for herself and walking over to the cave entrance.

“Good, till then this should wear off!” Scrooge said as he fell asleep, and Goldie sat down to watch over the two.

You can just leave, a voice in her head said, they would be non-the-wiser. 

But she sat down, wrapping herself in the blanket, and watched over the night.

….

It was nearing midnight when Webby and Dewey crawled under their blankets.  Sharing a double bed was kind of cool. They were still excited but exhausted enough so it was getting hard to keep their eyes open.

“I still can’t believe we found something for everyone! A plane model for mum, vinyl for Lena, that old bookmark for Vi, a guitar pick for Uncle Donald, and a genuine ’99 Bugmaster for LP! He is going to love it! Oh my, Drake will be impressed when I tell him-Webby?” he realized Webby was staring at some undetermined point on the wall.

“Huh, sorry I must have dozed off. Yeah, praise to us, getting presents for everyone…” she said, not a note of joy in her voice. Dewey winced. Unenthusiastic Webby was a worrying sign.

“We even found something for Uncle Scrooge!” he tried cheering her up but knew that was the wrong thing to say immediately as Webby bristled.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure he will love it!” she retorted.

Wait, was that sarcasm? From Webby? Oh-uh, this was not good!

 And Dewey had a feeling he knew what brought this on.

“You ok?”

“Yeah, I’m ok, why would I not be ok? I’m totally ok, just, tired, YAAAAWN! Well, Good night!” Webby turned around, way too quickly covering herself with a blanket for it to seem natural, and quickly turned off her light.

Dewey scooted over to her, peaked under her blanked, and looked at her, worried, “You know, if something is wrong, you can tell me?”

Webby lay still for a moment. Then she turned the light back on and turned onto her back, staring at the ceiling. Dewey sat on his heels next to her.

“I don’t want to be…not fine,” she said eventually, “but ever since F.O.W.L. things have…changed. I can’t decide whether It’s a good or a bad change. And the journalists…well, I forgot about it all for a day and they reminded me of it.”

“Oh,” Dewey said unhelpfully.

“I, I thought I had things figured out. You know, family stuff. Especially after the fight at Castle McDuck. But then the rug got pulled out from under me but despite that at first, things were fine and, you know, I was happy and stuff but now…”

She took a few breaths, and Dewey let her continue, “I never disliked changes. I embraced them you know. Like when you guys came to live at the manor, and when Della came back and before that when I met Lena. But this one…”

“It’s different.”

“Yes! I mean, don’t get me wrong I love the fact that I’m truly a McDuck, but boy do the things get weird from there!” she sat up suddenly, turning to him.

“Being Uncle Scrooge’s daughter?”

Webby nodded, “At first I was fine with it. I just went with it. I called him dad less than an hour after finding out about it!  And I was really, really, excited but now, when I think about it…and it’s weird. For both of us…”

“Wait? Did Scrooge say something to you?” Dewey narrowed his eyes, truly ready to fight the old man as soon as they got back to Duckburg.

“No, no, nothing! I mean it, he didn’t say anything mean, or hurtful, but…well, we both know he never planned for kids. And we know how kids usually come to be! And I’m not even a, you know, an accident, like you know…”

“Yeah, yeah I get it,” Dewey cut her off.

Right before Donald left for the trip, he and Della decided that boys being 13 now, should get the talk.

From both of them.

Together.

To their credit, they were very open-minded about it, didn’t stick to the usual boy-meets-girl stuff. Would be rather hypocritical, their mum being bi and all, as Della herself said.

However, Dewey was still a bit traumatized. Not by the topic itself. Donald was never one to have overly taboo topics in his house and between Huey, Dewey, and Louie all being overly curious, if, for different reasons, he never hid anything to a ridiculous point. Mostly to make sure they get the correct information, rather than them stumbling over weird online “facts”.

They all knew how babies are made early on. And he never got a feeling, either from his mum or from Uncle Donald, that sex ed was something weird or shameful.

However, Donald and Della had slightly different opinions on what they considered an appropriate level of education for the three, which divulged into a fight during which both revealed way more than they planned, he was sure.

That part was weird.

“Hey, wait for a second! If that was the fact, you would probably be Goldies! Ugh, why is that in my mind!” He shook his head to try to chase away the weird implications of that realization.

“Would still make thing less weird!” Webby ignored Dewey’s reaction at the mental image he got, “Boy I can’t believe I said that! But it’s true!” she buried her face in her hands.

“So, is what is troubling you?” Dewey asked tentatively and Webby peeked through her fingers, giving him a sad look.  

She removed her hands from her face, wringing them in her lap, “Well, yea….” Webby trailed off, implying there was more to her bad mood. “See, for years he was Mr. McDuck. Granny’s boss, the almost mythical figure that I shared the living space with! I, well, you saw it…” she seemed almost sheepish for a moment.

“Yeah, you totally fangirled,”

“Well, yeah, could get a bit obsessive. But then you came, and we hung out and I was around him more and got more relaxed and then he told me to call him Uncle Scrooge and I was so, so, so happy and it was so easy to call him that! Sure, there were some…hurdles and mean things were said and, well, you were there, you remember.”

Dewey knew she was referring to the horrible fight at the Sunchaser and he considered how it was so Webby to call that the most generous thing one could-a hurdle.

“But,” Webby continued, “after that blew over, we really were a family. Took me a while to realize.”

“Nobody can blame you for that,” Dewey said, a tiny bit of anger waking up in him remembering Scrooge’s words. You are not family, he said to Webby. And between all the drama, nobody, except for Beakley, fully realized how much this affected Webby at the moment.

“He apologized. Later, when we got home. I told you….”

“Still, it was unwarranted.”

“Dewey, it’s fine, really. But, it took me a long while to accept that I’m part of a family, even after that, after we made up! And now I really am part of a family….”

“Webby, you were a real part of a family long before that, you know that! Hell, you were a McDuck, honorary if unofficial! You know how Uncle Scrooge always included you with us, for months and-WAIT A MINUTE!”

He remembered something, a moment from the last time they were at the castle McDuck, “I think you might have already kind of officially been a McDuck! Scrooge and Matilda, they both basically said you were family the last time we were in Scotland, right? I mean, does it count if two of the at-time only McDuck name bearers basically include you in their family slash clan in their own hall of fame in their ancestral home? I think it does!”

“I know, I know, I’m not questioning that part! Not much, anyway. It’s just, things with granny and I keep messing up dad, I mean Uncle I mean…ugh! See, I can’t even get the title right now! I thought I was dealing with it fine but I’m not! I’m dealing with it badly. Weirdly? I don’t even know…and I, ok it, it sounds mean but…he doesn’t feel like my dad, you know. I mean kind of but…it’s weird. I feel really bad for saying it but-“ she hung her head, wiping tears of frustration.

“You shouldn’t. That’s what Uncle Donald always says, never apologize about how you feel.”

"Why is this so much harder to accept? And why didn’t I feel like that right away? Why now? Am I a bad kid for it?" she looked at him, tears pooling in her eyes.

“No, no,” Dewey reached out for her, then drew his hand back. He felt so underprepared for this. He wished for Uncle Donald, or for Huey. “Look. I…ok, I’m probably not the best person to talk about this,” he scratched his neck.

“Sorry, we don’t have to…“

“No, no! Sorry! That’s not what I meant! I just…I wish I could, um, compare it to something Huey is the mature one and Louie is, well if he wanted to he could probably become an amazing psychologist, he just gets People. I just feel a bit like I can’t help much. Because I think Huey and Louie could relate to you a bit better. I have an easier time accepting change so I feel like I can’t help with how you are feeling now, I just go with stuff.”

“Well, that is the problem, usually I do too! But now I can’t” webby punched the pillow in frustration.

“Yeah, w could really use Louie- OH MY THAT’S IT!” he straightened up, startling Webby and looking her directly in the eyes.

“Ok, you know how Louie needed a while longer to accept mum fully, longer than me and Huey? At first, I thought it was weird. And I may have even told him that at some point…I feel awful about it now, of course, because it wasn’t weird. I was just being a jerk and…Wait where was I going with this? Oh right! Lou needed a while longer to adjust to things, and that is ok. As I said, I was being a jerk.

“Yeah, you were…I remember yelling at you…”

“And thank you for it! Sure, it was terrifying, but I deserved it. But, well, that’s when I realized I was being stupid. Now, you are usually a bit more like me, right. Huey jokes we share one brain cell because we are very similar. But maybe, you are taking this a bit more like Louie. And if I am ever, ever a jerk to you about it, you reserve the right to punch me in the face!”

Webby chuckled, “I won’t punch you in the face. But maybe you are right...”

“Did, did what I say to Lou made you think bad about yourself now too’”

“What? No, no, I just…I think I did that to myself, kind of? Like made myself think that I have to always be able to take change…”

“Yeah, it’s not always that easy. It was a bit…weird…when Uncle Donald was leaving…changes can be hard, huh?”

“Yeah, they can. Glad I’m not the only one. I mean not that I want you to be conflicted, but you know, makes me feel less alone,” Webby said with a small smile before turning serious again.

“Dewey, can I ask you something?” she asked, staring at her hands.

“Of course,” Dewey responded earnestly.

“How…how did you deal with finding out they hid the truth about mum, your mum, from you?”

“Well, I think we all know the answer to that…but after…oh, this is also about your grandma, isn’t it?” he realized.

Webby nodded, then shook her head, “I don’t even know how I feel about that…”

“Complicated family feelings…our family’s expertise…”

“Yeah but, ok this is going to take a while so can I just…talk…” Dewey nodded, so Webby continued.

“I never really wondered about my parents, you know. Not when I was little. But as I grew, I started to. But grandma would always get so quiet when I would ask so...I stopped. I figured something bad has happened. Something awful. But it didn't matter, right? I knew who I was, and, later, who my family was and that was fine. But then, I started to think something happened to them because of F.O.W.L. or S.H.U.S.H. or someone else. Especially after that night grandma and I fought. So, I didn't ask, I did 't want to make her sad. But then May and June came and, and… SHE LIED!” tears streamed down Webby’s face, her face contorted in anger.

“She promised she won’t anymore! We promised that to each other after our first adventure with Scrooge and I know I hid stuff from her. But it was never something as huge as this! And when we found out about your mum I didn’t hide things anymore and then she promised again when we met the Harp of Mervana and even after that she lied!” she closed her eyes and bawled her fists, “TO MY FACE! AGAIN AND AGAIN, DEWEY SHE LIED TO ME MY WHOLE LIFE!” she looked him in the eyes, sobbing.

“And I know she did it to protect me and to keep me safe and sound from F.O.W.L. and from S.H.U.S.H. and the people who would want to harm me just because I'm a McDuck or exploit it or juts plain badger me like those journalists today, but I'm still so hurt and, and angry! And I don't want to be angry, I don't want to hold some stupid grudge or...” she broke into sobs, and Dewey pulled her into a hug.

"Webby, being angry isn't the same as holding some unreasonably long grudge, ok? You have every right to be angry! And you can say that, and it doesn't make you a bad person

"Why can't I just get over it..."

"Because it's a bit deal. A huge deal. People get hung up on much smaller issues-“

"But I don't want to think about her like she was a bad person or something, she isn't. I know she probably blames herself or something and she didn’t have bad intentions. So, it feels unfair to be angry."

"Webby, lying to you, even if it was for the semi-justifiable reason, that was bad. Just like when Donald and Scrooge lied to us about mum. And like when I lied to Huey and Louie about mum."

"I lied too...'

"I pulled you into that one. But yeah, you did. But you don't think any of us are bad, right? We did bad things, but we’re not bad people. And more so, when Lou and Hue were angry at me, or us, they were right, you agree?

"Yes..."

“And would you say they were supposed to hide that they were angry just to spare our feelings?”

“No...”

"So, the same goes for you. Just because you say 'my Granny did this one bad thing. Like a big thing but one thing’, doesn't mean you're accusing her of being bad overall. Or of Being a bad grandma or anything else. And you can say 'hey this hurt me. And if that hurts her...well...” he made circles with his hand, trying to find proper words.

“I mean, I won't say 'then good' because that sounds mean. But that is not your fault, ok? It's...well, this sounds harsh but that is on her! She made that decision when she was an adult. And…you should be free to express your feelings. Doesn’t make you a bad granddaughter or a bad person for having or expressing them.”

"I think I finally get those films when a kid is adopted but doesn't know but when they find out they get angry at their parents. I always thought, ‘oh you are mean, they raised you, gave everything to you, why does it matter’! Now I understand..."

"Yeah. But in those films, they always make up in the end, right? You two will too. But, ok I'm totally going to sound like Uncle Donald and maybe that is not a bad thing, you need to talk to her.”

"I don't know how... I don’t want to accuse her...” she muttered into Dewey’s shoulder.

Dewey pulled away from the hug slightly so he could look Webby in the eyes, "Maybe you should. Webby, your grandma is an adult. And she is smart and wise. She will understand. I think that before, well maybe she didn’t know how to tell you. So, she doubled down. But now that everything is out...

"She will probably be more willing to talk. She does want to; I've been avoiding it. I'm scared. What if...she doesn't want to be my grandma anymore. Especially if I yell at her....” his best friend looked so sad and it broke Dewey’s heart.

"Webby, your grandma may not be perfect, but she left S.H.U.S.H. at top of her career for you when you were just a baby. You weren’t her Webby then, a kid she raised and lived for and made into a super butt-kicking mega-skilled fighter who is also a walking encyclopaedia. And I mean that as a compliment! You were just some random baby. She could’ve had S.H.U.S.H. raise you, or find, I don't know, some super-motherly or fatherly S.H.U.S.H. agent who wanted kids anyway. But she didn’t, she took you under her wing. And now?  Now you are her Webby, and she loves you. So, I'm sure. No, I know that she will still want you as her granddaughter!'

"Even if I'm Scrooge's kid and if I one day start calling him dad, like, all the time?”

“Yes! You know how both mum and Uncle Donald call us, and you are included in that, my kids! How Uncle Donald never stopped even when mum came and we started calling her mum? Well, I think it’s like that!”

“But, but, still, what, what if…” Webby lowered her gaze, refusing to look Dewey in the eyes “what if things change between us?”

Dewey felt as if struck by lightning. He pulled away from the hug, taking Webby by her shoulders and looking her straight in the eyes.

“Webby, have we been treating you differently?” he asked, dead-serious.

“No, no, I’m not accusing you!”

“Webby, I’m asking for real. If we have, you have to tell me. I know I wasn’t trying to. And neither did Huey and Louie, sure Louie may joke about you being the only heir and stuff…”

“He stopped…”

“It bothered you?”

“A bit…but he stopped.” She smiled and Dewey knew she held no animosity towards his brother. Louie learned when to lay off the Louie especially when it came to people he cared about.

He only hoped he learned how to lay off the Dewey as well when it mattered.

“Well, if I did something to make you feel bad, please tell me, ok? I really, really didn’t mean to! And I promise, you could be a daughter of, I don’t know, Zeus, some random guy on the street, a flying spaghetti monster, but you will always, always be my best friend. My sister. Now, well, we just share some more DNA, but who cares, Huey says it’s like, 90% the same anyways!”

“Um, it’s over 99.9% for all ducks, in fact!”

“See, so who cares! I mean, of course, of course, you do, don’t think I’m making light of it but, juts, from my part, you are still out Webby, our sister!” Webby just stared at him, blinking slowly “Ok, look I know that probably doesn’t help much and that it sounds stupid but- oomph!” He was suddenly enveloped in one of Webby’s bear hugs.

“It’s not stupid. Of course, it helps.” She said, letting out a soft sob and Dewey returned the hug.

“I’m glad.”

“So…talking…” she released him from the hug and wiped her tears off.

“Yeah, like us now. I know it’s not easy, but Uncle Donald says we should probably talk more. Even if he admits he was the first not to always talk. And he is usually right.”

“I don’t even know where to start, but…I’ll try. I mean, granny wants to talk…”

“And I’m sure she is ready to hear you out. And so will Scrooge be. And if he’s not me, Huey and Louie are kidnapping him and locking him into his own office till he is. I’m sure Lena and Vi will help too!”

This made Webby laugh, “Deal! I hope Scrooge, Louie, and Goldie are fine. After the news from Duckburg…I hope dad and the others have just a regularly exciting adventure, not something bad…”

“Hey, how come the two of us will end up having the most mundane week?” Dewey wondered, “I mean, this is cool but it’s in just a cool antique fair in Spoonerville!”

“Well, we will buy a lot of cool stuff tomorrow to balance things out!”

“Yeah, we will!” Dewey agreed, “We are going to be like those cool family members from movies who come back from a cool trip with gifts for everyone!”

“Yeah, we will. Lena, Vi, May, June, Huey…”

“Lou, LP, Gos, mum. everyone else…”

“It’s a long list…”

“Yeah…” he yawned. “Would you mind if we went to sleep? Or do you need to talk some more? Half of my brain is already sleeping.”

“No, I’m fine. Thank you, Dewey.” she yawned as well, pulling her blanket over herself, “For the talk and everything.”

“Anytime,” Dewey crawled under his own blanket “Man, this is the coolest…” he said as Webby scooted over, so she was closer to him.

After the emotional turmoil of the conversation, it felt good to be so close to someone. Dewey. Her brother. She realized she thought of him, and Huey and Louie as well, for the longest time but she only recently put it to words. It felt comforting.

Dewey was still settling in bed. Unlike Louie, who, while he preferred to burrito himself in blankets, could fall asleep in any position instantly. Or Huey, who had a very specific ritual before sleep, Dewey just tossed around until, suddenly, he would be asleep.

Webby closed her eyes, letting the sleep overpower her. For the first time in days, she went to sleep emotionally fine. Not fully, but her mind wasn’t running a million miles per hour. And that felt great. 

Chapter Text

Goldie sat up suddenly, waking from a nightmare. She looked at her watch. It’s been half an hour, she must have nodded off.

And of course, the day couldn’t get worse, so in that short half an hour, the night hit her with a nightmare.

Trying to trick Travis, making a mistake, tripping, her knife slipping, and Sharpie…

No!

She shook the memory off, watching over the dark woods.

Scrooge and Sharpie slept behind her, the kid was fine.

And since when do we care about stuff like that?

Shut up!

She did her best to ignore the pain in her side. The forest was peaceful, aside from distant cursing from the tied-up cultists. Occasionally she would hear some small animal scurry by, but other than that, there was no movement. She kept glancing towards the pit, but nobody was coming out of it.

Good. She made that pit well, so it could hold Scrooge. Not forever, but enough so, were he to fall in, it would slow him down, let alone someone who didn’t have his skill and grit. Funny thing, using that same trap while helping Scrooge and his great-nephew.

This trip was supposed to be just a fun trip. Go, check out the cool object, go back. The closest she and Scrooge would get to act like typical tourists. If typical tourists were willing to face dangerous woods and possibly angry dragons.

It wasn’t supposed to be a journey or a search, not even a true adventure, not by their standards. Just a way to put the past behind them, to prove they changed.

It most certainly wasn’t supposed to result in Scrooge getting paralyzed or her needing medical attention.

Better him than me, a stray voice inside her head said, the same one that was urging her to take her things and leave, as she would take a sword cut over being paralyzed and helpless any day, but she tried not to listen to it. She used to, before, albeit never to a point where Scrooge would be hurt.

Well, maybe hurt, but not dead.

That was one thing she always stuck by. Leave Scrooge, but only if she were sure he would be able to save himself. Or at least she tried to tell herself so. That’s why, even after she betrayed him to Glomgold at the Golden Lagoon, she pushed him away when the boulder fell at them.

She knew she would live, she wasn’t risking her life to save his. But she was aware that, tougher than the toughies as he might be, there was no way Scrooge would survive falling into a river of liquid gold.

Still, she wondered, would Goldie from before that failed fresh start from the Everglades leave Scrooge in the woods? Would she leave him and try to stop the thief herself or just leave to try and hide from the Candelabra? Live out the rest of her days, hoping she doesn’t fall under its influence. She didn’t know the answer.

And then there was Sharpie. The kid she was not supposed to get attached to, but she did.

Goldie was not the most honourable, nice, lawful person, and she knew that. She definitely wasn’t what an average citizen would describe as a good person. She never hid that. But she was glad that Sharpie was.

If that kid, with his mind and cunning, had the same moral compass as some people she met throughout the years, she wouldn’t want to be in his way, possibly even share the same planet by the time he grew.  

She would say that Sharpie had the heart of his great-uncle, but she was petty certain even the man himself would agree that was wrong. The kid tried to deny it and was just as willing to scheme as she was, but underneath there was a huge heart. She had enough encounters with Scrooge’s nephew to know exactly who instilled that kindness into the boy.

Something she couldn’t say about herself.

You are going soft, O’Gilt. A voice in her head said.

Could she deny it? She was sitting in a cave, injured and in pain, watching over her ex/current everything and a child, while planning on embarking on a possibly world-saving mission she still didn’t know any details off, within a few hours, fully aware it may cost her life.

Goldie from a few years ago would scoff at her.

Goldie from a few years ago would leave.

Goldie from a few years ago wasn’t called an aunt by anyone…

She heard steps behind her, turning around quickly, ready to jump to fight but it was just Louie, dragging his blanket behind him.

“Don’t worry,” he said, “it’s just me.”

“Damn it, Sharpie, nearly gave me a heart attack! Shouldn’t you be asleep? Aren’t you the one famous for being able to fall asleep wherever and whenever?”

“When my mind is not working at full steam, sure,” Louie said, sitting next to her, “but now. Well, it’s a madhouse in here. If my brain was a highway intersection, this would be a rush hour.”

“That bad, huh?”

“It’s not anxiety or anything. Just…something is missing. I can’t put my finger on it. And so, my brain won’t rest till I do. Looking at all the angles is difficult and I’m certain I’m looking at one of those crazy polyhedra. You know, the one with 20 sides? Huey would know what it’s called.”

“Icosahedron.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Our mission is a polyhedron. I expected that analogy from your nerdy brother but not you, Sharpie,” Goldie raised an eyebrow at him.

“What can I say, I’m full of surprises.”

“You even used the proper plural!”

“Hey, while online grammar-nazis are giving grammar a bad name, grammar can be a good thing to know. A single comma can change a sentence and in the right context, it can be a key to finding a loophole in a contract. Or a law.”

“Touché! So, where are you stuck?”

“If they just wanted the Candelabra, why wait? I mean, they have that seal thingy, why not just come whenever? Why wait for one single moment when they know other people might come here?”

“See this cave entrance we’re sitting at?” Goldie said, looking up at the arched entrance.

“Yeah?”

“Well, usually you would not be able to see it. The dragon only allows passage…”

“…every 27 years and 4 months…oh!” Louie nodded with realization.

“Yeah, you don’t just need the dragon to let you pass. He must open the doorway as well. Without that, well, I don’t even think Magica de Spell would have enough power to break the spell on this door.”

“Ugh, I wish I had signal! I could ask around!” the kid got to his feet, raising his phone above his head.

“What, ask some friends from the playground? I don’t think info on the next bake sale would help us!” Goldie teased.

Louie whirled around, and said, slightly red in his face, “Shut up! I would ask my…contacts…in…other places…”

“Oh, and what would you ask silver-tongued serpent?” she smirked and the reaction was instant.

“Wha.no, no, that is not- fu- shi-dang it! How’d you know?”

“You can curse in front of me, not like I’ll tell anyone. Also, I know you Sharpie and that is literally the most obvious alias you could’ve come up with!”

“Oh, come on, it can’t be that bad for the first time! The guys at the bazaar were impressed!”

“That sorry lot?” Goldie snorted, “You could impress them by stealing candy from a baby!”

The boy huffed, indignant, “I’ll have you know, I earned their-wait, if you consider them a sorry lot you won’t be impressed if I tell you I earned their respect, right?” Louie now seemed self-conscious. Great, it wasn’t her intention to ruin his confidence.

She rolled her eyes, but smiled,  “Ok, fine, there are some impressive guys and gal’s there, some of whom I may or may not keep contact with, and well, I might’ve gotten confirmation of who the silver tongue serpent was even before this evening!”

“Oh, come on! You knew and still made me tell you? That’s just cruel!” he buried his hands deep into his pockets, pouting.

“And when was I the gentlest soul out there, Sharpie? That is the most basic interrogation technique out there, learn about it, be on the lookout for it, when you need it, use it.”

“So, you heard about my, um, performance there?” he said, plopping back on the ground, trying to seem casual.

“Yup, your little friend saved your butt,” Goldie teased.

“And…what do you think about the, um, rest?” he looked at her with a hopeful grin.

Goldie studied him for a moment. “Not that bad, Sharpie, try to rely a bit less on blind luck next time!”

“Hey, it wasn’t blind luck, it was my previous escapades that impressed them!”

“Uh-huh, and you were lucky your friend can eat more spicy food than a spicy food taster,” Goldie said. She noticed Louie’s smile turn into a frown. She would deny it, but she didn’t much like this, “But as I said, not bad. Quick thinking, that at least you got!” she ruffled his hair.

“Yeah, but Vi really was the MVP that day, I’ll give her that!”

“Keeping the right connections isn’t something to scoff at either. Let me guess, she is Pink-Bow’s friend?”

“Yup, they bonded over, get this, both knowing ancient Syriac! I’m surrounded by nerds!”

“I’ll give you a word of advice, Sharpie, keep nerds around, they know their stuff!”

“Hey, you know you’re stuff-“ he started to say with a mischievous grin.

“Sharpie, if you dare call me a nerd…”

“What, you’re going to tell on me to Scrooge? You know that will only result in him calling you a nerd as well?”

“Well, I could call him that right back!”

“Maybe we could use a nerd or two here, not be stupid enough to just believe that a dragon would wake up from just taking the seal off!” he buried the hands deeper into his pockets.

Shit, did I really psychologically damage Sharpie?

And since when do we care about that?

Since we have nightmares about…fuck…

Soft as cotton candy….

Shut up!

She sighed, “Sharpie, you know I lie about stuff to survive, right? Especially to dumb hunks like Travis.”

“But I didn’t…”

“You didn’t know. Remember, we’re not nerds. That’s his job,” she pointed to thumb to Scrooge sleeping behind her back, “Was still a fairly decent example of quick thinking.” She said, making the kid perk up.

“So, what would you ask your contacts, silver tongue serpent!”

“Stop it!” he stuck his tongue at her, but didn’t seem upset, “And, well, honestly, no idea, just if they know of them and stuff,” he shrugged.

“And they would likely be unable to tell you anything. Kid, I have a huge network of people from who I can get information, something I build over literal decades, yet I barely heard of these guys. Treasure hunting business, that is my turf. And if someone I know knew something about those geniuses down there, they would have told me. And they had a well-thought-out plan, taking down him,” she pointed to the Felynedworm’s sleeping figure, “that is a plan that has been cooking for a while. And all of my contacts are none-the-wiser.”

“So, the cult is either very secretive or moves in a way greyer area than you do?” Louie frowned.

“Correct and possibly, probably, both. But I get it, I want to know what’s up with them too. But without more information, and, ugh, Beakley is likely our best option of getting it, we’re stuck. And if you tell anyone I said that…”

“I know, I know, joining Milene in that pit, or something! What is your deal with Beakley?”

“I don’t like her. She hates me. End of story.”

“Ok, so, definitely some big, important event back in the past,” Louie said in that I’m surely going to try to find out about it later, way. “But I’ll leave it be for now,” he said self-importantly.

“Oh, will you, gee, thanks!” Goldie said flatly. They sat quietly for a few moments.

“Hey, did that woman, Milene, really trick you over poker once? And how the hell you know Travis?” Louie asked suddenly.

“Yup, but don’t ask how she did it, I won’t answer. And Travis, well, he once tried to get me to work together but I’m not an idiot. Not for the cult though, some golden nugget business with the most idiotic gang I’ve ever had the displeasure of encountering.”

“Let me guess, you took the information, went ahead, tricked the gang, and got the nuggets for yourself!” Louie looked at her, impressed.

“How’d you guess? Travis didn’t even know he was giving me all the information I needed, was almost boringly easy.”

“So, what are we going to do with them?”

“Leave them here with the dragon, pick them up later,” Goldie said. “See that, she pointed towards the Felynedworm.

“Um, no? What am I looking at?” he squinted his eyes towards the beast.

“Exactly, you see nothing, remember how shiny that seal on the dragon was? Now it’s barely a flicker. Which means the spell is expiring. Which means he will be awake soon enough. Possibly a bit rattled.”

“Great, great, a rattled mind-melting dragon! While we are in his cave for the artifact that he swore to protect and that is missing! Great!” Louie said with the flattest expression she ever saw on his face.

“Kid, you are beating me at sarcasm game!” she gave him a side-eye.

“I do my best,” he smirked.

They sat in semi-comfortable silence when Louie spoke up again, “You really were planning to leave that Candelabra, even before, like, 50 years ago, weren’t you?”

“Huh? Yes, why...”

“Well, no offense, but you don’t exactly have the most honest record out there.” he stared at her intently.

Goldie stared at him for a long moment. The kid lacked experience but the way he saw through her was unnerving, if impressive, “Fair point. How’d you figure I would have, to say, played nice?”

“The dragon, he just chased you away, didn’t melt your mind, If I were him and I sensed someone willing to steal more than non-existent gold, especially someone with access to de-aging magic, I wouldn’t leave them so they can come back 50 years later. And today, you could’ve run off with that guy. You literally held a knife to my throat. I wouldn’t be able to do anything.”

“Betray you to the idiot who attacked me?” Goldie said, trying to chase away the memory of her nightmare away.

“You worked with Glomgold to trick Scrooge before!”

“Not pulling any punches, huh, Sharpie? Well, not my proudest moment right there.”

“Because of backstabbing or because of working with Glomgold? Scratch that, it’s Glomgold isn’t it?” he raised an eyebrow at her.

She shrugged, “A bit of both.”

“Why’d you go after the fountain?” she had a feeling someone would eventually bring that up. “You agreed…”

“For the record, I didn’t intend on using it,” she stared at the distance. “My list of things I consider too messed up to do includes taking away someone else’s youth. There are less messy ways to stay young.”

“Young?” he raised an eyebrow at her.

“Hey, now you’re just being rude!” she shoved him gently.

“So, you did go steal it, like, for real?”

She looked at him, a curious expression on her face, “Damn it, Sharpie you have a keen eye. Maybe a bit too keen for your years.”

“What can I say, living the life I live allows me to keep my mind sharp,”

“Well, at this rate, and don’t tell this to Scrooge I don’t think his ego could take it, but at some point, I think you could be sharper than the sharper than the sharpies!”

For a moment, he perked up but then his expression changed. He looked at her flatly and she realized that she would not win the kid over with compliments. True as they might be.

“Darn it, kid, so incorruptible, huh? What if I offer you those jet rides, once a month?” Louie looked unimpressed, “Oh right, fine! I guess… old habits die hard. But as I said, didn’t steal it to use it. More to annoy Scrooge than anything!”

“Why?”

“Don’t know, fun?” she shrugged.

Louie was quiet for a second and then asked, his tone making obvious he was afraid of the answer to the question he was asking, “Did you…did you at any point consider leaving us today?”

Damn it Sharpie, what was with hard-hitting questions? Goldie thought for the third time in a row. Why was the 13-year-old kid able to read her, Goldie O’Gilt, like an open book?

“There was…a moment. Two moments.” She said solemnly.

“When he was it?” he asked, sounding curious rather than angry.

“When I defeated Milene and had an opening. And once I thought you both fell asleep.” She admitted, quietly.

“What changed? In the past, you would have done it.”

Goldie looked frustrated, but she still answered, “Your damn uncle just had to involve me in his family speech “Granted he also involved Storkules, the god of himbos, and his scientist’s intern’s girlfriend as well, and that purple weirdo and his…kid? Still, he included me!”

“Of course, I did!” they heard Scrooge said behind them.

Goldie turned around, blushed, while Louie looked at his great-uncle happily, his eyes seeming sleepy. He yawned.

“How long were you awake?” Goldie asked.

“Long enough,” Scrooge said. He didn’t look angry, or even smug. There was an irritatingly understanding look in his eyes. He limped over to them, seeming a bit insecure on his feet..

“Lad, please, try to get some shut-eye, ye will need it tomorrow,” he put a gentle hand on Louie’s shoulder.

“Sure, I guess I got most of this,” he gestured around his head, “out of the system,” Louie said. Goldie had a feeling that whatever was unsettling his mind had nothing to do with alchemist cultists and their plans. “Good night.”

The boy walked over to his sleeping bag and crawled into it. Somehow Goldie knew he was asleep for real this time.

“When did Louie wake?” Scrooge asked.

“Wait, I thought you were awake?”

“I was, for the last 10 minutes or so,” she knew this meant he heard half of the conversation, particularly pouring her heart out to Louie bit. But this also meant something else.

“You were actually asleep? Through the pain and let me guard you and Sharpie?”

“I’ve had worse pain in me life, and I trusted you enough. And I was right! Maybe you would’ve left me but not him. Don’t even try to deny it.”

Goldie sighed. Sharpie was one thing, but since when was Scrooge able to read through her like that? “He is a special kid.”

“They all are.”

“So, family?” she asked him, her eyebrow raised. It was something they haven’t addressed since. The first night after fowl was hectic. And after that, they haven’t spoken or seen each other much, her having spirited away in the morning as she usually did.

“Eh, you know, that doesn’t only mean one thing, you know…”

Goldie laughed, “And what exactly do you think I thought you thought?”

Scrooge turned red on his face. She still hats that touch, she was glad, “Well, you know, uh...we don’t have to….” Scrooge McDuck tried to find his words. “Look. We will never be a, erm, traditional couple. No real settling down between us, at least in terms those words are usually used, I know that. Would be a disaster. Or it wouldn’t be us. But that doesn’t mean you don’t mean the world to me, Goldie. You are family, even if I may not be yours”

And there was it. Scrooge McDuck, the shrewd, cunning, head of multitrillion business, stumbling on his words in front of her only to then pour his heart out. Why did she find it so endearing? “I am glad to hear it. And, oh, screw it all, maybe said family thing isn’t so bad after all.”

“Besides, you can’t be aunt Goldie if you are not part of the family,” he chuckled and she swatted her arm at him, but she was still smiling.

Both remained quiet for a few long moments, looking over the night in front of them. He shivered and she moved so she could pull her blanket over them both.

“A lot of changes recently,” Scrooge said suddenly, and Goldie turned her face towards him. He looked tired. For once, she thought, he looked old. “This, thing between us, that is only one in a long string of changes.”

She knew what he meant. How could she not? The whole world knew that Webbigail Wonderquack, now Webbigail Wonderquack-McDuck was the daughter of Scrooge McDuck. In a way.

He never wanted kids. He had a lot of kids, and she knew he loved all of them as if his own. She found it annoying. But never his own. Not biological kids.

And now he was a father. A dad. If before Scrooge was a father in everything but words, well, he covered that too now.

“Never thought you would complain about it.”

“I’m not complaining, per sae it’s just….my life was settling. In that manner, at least. I never wanted a calm life, God forbid, but you know. No family drama, no tragedies. Not big secrets coming out, t’was nice. For a while. And then, it all came crashing down. F.O.W.L. uncovered, me own business partner leading it, the back-stabbing buzzard! Donald leaving, Della moving in with her best friend, or rather, Penumbra moving in with us. Launchpad is spending more and more time in another city, and I can’t even fault him on that, him and that Drake fellow make a lovely couple, and now…Webby is my daughter.”

“Sounds like this is small potatoes compared to all that,” she gestured between them.

“Don’t think I think us less important. This, this is good. A bit of stability. Ironic, isn’t it, this thing between us, providing stability. But it does.  Maybe we weren’t ready before….”

“Took us what, hundred years?”

“More or less.”

“Still, why talk about this with me?”

“Goldie, you’re one of the few people I can talk to about things like this, and, well, with Bentina….”

Goldie felt uncomfortable. She and Bentina Beakley weren’t friends, not even allies. At best they would reach the enemy of my enemy is not my enemy status in some situations. The woman was Scrooge’s best friend. Complaining about her being nosy was one thing. Commenting on Scrooge’s family drama was another.

“I can’t speak to her about this. Not now.” He finally said.

“Look, I’d be pissed too if someone kept the fact that I have a child from me. And if I found out, well, the way you did.”

“Worst is, I can understand her.” He said, his voice distant.

“What?”

“Do you know when she brought Webby to my doorstep?” He looked at her, his eyes filled with sadness and regret.

Goldie didn’t think much of it, but it didn’t take a genius to do the math, “Right, just after Della…”

“Yes. I was at the depths of my depression. If I had to choose, I wouldn’t pick me for a father either.”

“You would do the same thing she did?”

“Well, maybe. Hindsight is 20/20 but at that moment…I can’t judge her too harshly. Still, there is a huge elephant in the room and we’re not the best at addressing it.”

“So, how are you and Pink Bow getting along”

“Bess me bagpipes, you had to ask, didn’t you?” he threw his hands out, frustrated.

“You’re the one who brought it up!”

“I don’t know!”

“What?” Goldie was shocked, “Ok, look, may not be my place to say anything and I’m definitely not the type to understand…all you have entangled there, but that kid adores you.”

“Yeah, she does, and I her, just...I can’t not address it! And when I do it’s…weird!”

“Scrooge your whole family is weird! Look if you can talk to me, if we can talk, you and that kid can as well!”

“Don’t have the greatest track record at talking things out,” se smiled sheepishly.

“Don’t say? Well, then you know you shouldn’t pull the same shit again!” She frowned, “Why am I, of all the people in the world, giving you this advice!” she said frustrated, and then muttered, “Who are you, O’Gilt!”

“Oh, just someone whose input I appreciate very much,” Scrooge said, “thank you for listening to my ramblings. I will, I will talk to her. Both of them.”

“Eh, your rambling are more interesting than staring into the forest. I’m sure you’ll do fine Sourdough, you have your way around things like this.” She leaned her head against his shoulder, the blanket slipping off hers. He reached over to readjust.

“Not going to sleep, just resting my head.” She said. Too close, to familial! A voice in her head said, but she was too tired to ignore it. Or maybe she was tired of listening to it.

“You should get some shut-eye as well, my turn to take watch. Long ahead day tomorrow.” He said, playing with her hair.

“Wake me up if that dragon wakes,” Goldie said.

“Oh, I don’t think I will have to do that, he won’t be happy.”

“Great. Just so you know, in case he, as Sharpie puts it, melts our minds, I’m glad I have pulled you out of that pool, Sourdough.”

“And I’m glad (nešto). But don’t ye worry. If that thing hurts even a feather on Louie’s head under our watch, Donald will teleport here and by the sheer power of will get our minds back only to then throw us from the first cliff he finds!”

“And I’d be grateful. Better than mindlessly wandering around the woods forever,” Goldie mumbled, “great, now if that enters my dreams…” she muttered, nodding off. The last thing she knew before falling asleep was Scrooge’s voice whispering.

“Good night, m'eudail“

…..

Loud rustling woke Scrooge up. He opened his eyes. The sun was barely rising, the dawn  breaking in the east, shadows long and dark, first streaks of light just piercing through the treetops. He was leaning on the cave wall, Goldie’s head in his lap, but wrapped in the same blanket. He could hear Louie quietly snoring behind him.

He stretched; his joints were painful but it was a familiar, almost welcome sort of pain.

Better than the pain he felt last night, inflicted by the alchemist seals.

“Scrooge?” Goldie asked groggily.

“He is waking,” Scrooge said, offering no further explanation, and she got up quickly, her hand pressed to her injured side.

“Are you all right?” he asked her.

“Seen better days, but I’ll live,” she answered, “Are you feeling better?”

“Aye. Feel a wee bit stiff, but fine. Mostly just good old joint pain this mornin’.”

“You are growing senile…good, old joint pain…” she teased.

“I’m used to it, better than what I experienced last night! The Felynedworm is waking.”

“Go wake Sharpie up, seems like we’ll have an early audience with Mr. Guardian of the Cave.”

“Please, refrain from nicknaming, we want to keep ourselves intact!” he said, walking over to Louie and shaking the boy awake.

“Five more minutes, Mrs. B….” Louie mumbled and turned around in his sleeping bag.

“Louie, lad, we are not at the manor, and I’m not Bentina,” scrooge said.

“’cle Scrooge?” Louie muttered, opened one eye, and looked at him, “Where…oh, phooey I hoped it was all a bad dream…”

“I’m afraid not,” Scrooge said compassionately, “come one, the Felynedworm is waking.”

“Oh, double phooey…” Louie wiggled out of his sleeping bag.

Scrooge and Louie were barely by Goldie’s side when the trees shook, they heard branches breaking and leaves crackling.

The large figure at the clearing moved, turning its head towards the trio in the cave.

Seeing it back on his feet, Scrooge felt the same awe he felt the first time he saw the creature.

Scrooge instinctively stepped in front of Louie and Goldie, only for Goldie to make a small huff and move in front of him instead. After a bit of elbowing, they ended up standing next to one another and in front of Louie. Scrooge could practically feel the lad rolling his eyes, as Louie took a step around him and stood on his right, his back straight, and his chin pointed forward.

It was almost scary how much the boy reminded him of both Della and Donald when they were younger.

Felynedworm slowly moved uphill. It was clear the creature was still affected by the spell. He seemed to move with some difficulty, and he shook his head as if trying to get rid of the water in his ears. It was still a formidable beast, his green eyes glistening.

He felt Louie’s hand in his, and he squeezed it. He didn’t say anything, what comfort could he offer at this moment? Please, leave the boy alone, he thought, he didn’t do anything. Do what you will with us, just please leave my great-nephew be!

“Don’t you worry, Scrooge McDuck,” the Felynedworm spoke, his voice a resonant bass, and Scrooge felt Louie squeeze his hand, “I shall not hurt the young one.”

He was now only a few feet in front of them and Scrooge felt tongue-tied.

“You two, however,” the Felynedworm lowered his head so he was on their eye-level, “have some gall coming here again!” he sounded almost amused. He looked between them, and Scrooge felt Louie squeeze his hand even harder, the lad’s grip growing almost painful. The Felynedworm glanced at Louie for a second and the corner of his mouth twitched in the tiniest resemblance of a smile.

“However,” the Felynedworm, “I see you hold no malicious intent this time, and I have to thank you, for risking yourselves for the artifact I was unable to keep safe.”

“You’re welcome,” Scrooge said, trying not to think you better be, you overgrown lizard-cat, we nearly lost our lives!

“And that is exactly why I’m grateful,” the Felynedworm said, “and no, miss O’Gilt, there is no way to hide your thoughts from me, not without astonishingly strong magic. And I have to put emphasis on the young one,” he said turning to Louie, who was breathing quickly but didn’t move an inch. Scrooge made a mental note to find some reward for the boy.

“Please don’t melt my brain,” Louie blurted out, looking uncomfortable, making the dragon chuckled.

“Don’t worry Llewellyn Duck, I shall not melt your brain! And no, I hold no grudge over your main reason for freeing me being your safety and safety of your family. Also, I will refrain from using your stupid and embarrassing name. And I don’t know what a Wandalf  and whether I sound like one.”

“Oh goodness, he can really hear our every thought!” Louie squeaked.

“Yes I can, but that is not of your concern right now,” he said, looking Louie in the eyes, “Firstly, because I have little interest in what you are thinking beyond your intentions towards the artifact under my protection,” he said and turned to Scrooge. “Touching back to your family, they are in danger. The pillagers who raided this place are a threat to them.”

“What?” Scrooge jolted, “Who? Where?” his thoughts immediately went to the manor, where he held all of his artifacts. He wished it was so, the other bin was there, his family could hold out there, they had a way to hide. The other two options were…

“The manor is safe. And so is your nephew, Donald Duck. At least they are from the dangers I’m aware of. It is as you fear, your daughter Webbigail Wonderquack-McDuck and your friend Bentina Beakley are under threat.”

“What, but why would those alchemist-guys go to some antique fair in Spoonerville?” Louie asked, looking ready to run down the hill.

“Who cares, we have to get a move on,” Scrooge said.

“Hold up, Scrooge McDuck. You will get nothing from rushing in blindly. I suppose you would like to know the information that could help you?”

“Yes, yes, fine, but I don’t mean to rush you,” Scrooge tried lying even as he was aware it would not work.

“You do,”

“Well can you blame me? Three of the people closest to my heart are down there!”

The Felynedworm simply nodded, “I felt the presence of the alchemists too late. They had something that protected their thoughts from me. They were unable to protect themselves thoroughly. As they got closer, as we started to fight, I managed to get a glimpse into their minds. I’ll spare you the tales of gore I noted, but one of them, Milene the swordswoman, has, only a short while before reaching my cave, get a message. They have an ally at the antique fair in the city of Spoonerville. When she has received the message Milene has shouted to her allies that someone named 22 and The young McDucks are at the antique fair.”

“Beakley’s agent alias,” Scrooge and Goldie said in unison.

“Mrs. B. can beat them up, right?” Louie looked between the adults desperately.

“They want revenge,” Scrooge realized immediately.

“They do indeed, however, at that point, I have been incapacitated. The last thing I read in the mind of their leader, Robert was that they changed plans. They initially intended to go to their headquarters in the city of Duckllas, however, they went to Spoonerville instead.”

“Well, we can’t have that, can we,” Scrooge said, “we’ll move immediately and-“

“You are right, Goldie O’Gilt will never make it in time,” the Felynedworm warned.

“I don’t care, I have to try, at least reach halfway down the mountain to give them a call, warn them!” scrooge desperately looked between Goldie and the dragon.

“Scrooge…”

“I don’t care Goldie; I will jump off this mountain top if I need to get down!”

“I did not say to give up,” the Felynedworm said, gracious enough not to make note of the choice words Scrooge granted him within his mind. “And Louie Duck one has an interesting idea.”

“Oh, look, I didn’t mean to offend you, erm, I just thought well my brother is out there, and Webby and she is, like my sister and Mrs. Beakley and…you know what forget I said, erm, thought anything …we can walk!”

“What idea did you think of now, lad?”

“I’m sure you can,” the Felynedworm interrupted him, “and you have the right idea!”

“Wait what?” Louie’s beak fell open.

“Oi, guardian, we are not all gifted mind-readers, fill us in what in the word did Sharpie thought of now?” Goldie said sharply.

“You will never make downhill in time but I can,” the Felynedworm said.

“Curse me kilts…” Scrooge muttered, realizing what Louie’s idea was.

“Now, before you get any ideas, no, I can’t leave the mountain, I’m too worn out for that. But I can carry you down.”

“That is…a gracious offer,” Scrooge said. He saw a lot of things in his 150 years of living, but an ancient guardian offering to carry him down the mountain was still a shock.

“It is not merely for your sake, or your family’s. I failed in my duty, and this is the only way I can uphold it,” he explained.

“What about them?” Goldie pointed to the paralyzed lot she and Louie left.

Felynedworm’s glare grew dark, “Believe me Goldie O’Gilt I would be just as glad to see them hurt as you are at this point. However, the effects of their seal still linger so I’m afraid to use any of my powers on them. At best, were I to try reading their minds I could end up reading my own, locking myself in an endless loop. At worst I could be right back where I started yesterday evening. I will ask you to promise me that you will find some human authorities to come to pick them up, even if they can’t be charged for this theft attempt according to human laws, they have all committed enough human crimes to earn a few years behind bars each. I will be satisfied with that.”

“I can offer something more,” Scrooge said, knowing his offer wasn’t an empty one, “if they are part of the cult I think they are a part of,”

“I know which cult you think of, and I’ve read it in their minds-they are!”

“Good then. If that is the case and if we involve shush, the agency that has taken them out before, I’m certain they will agree to take them in their custody. However, that will only happen if those dingy dirtbags don’t reach my family so, I hate to rush you,”

“You still don’t,”

“-But we should get a move on.”

“In that case, get your items and get on my back, we will be at the airport within two or three hours, I can’t give you more than that,”

“Please, try to make it two,” scrooge said, his tone pleading.

He trusted Beakley. Even after everything, even if their relationship was somewhat strained, he trusted her to protect the children. And even then, the two were more than capable of protecting themselves.

But he could not stop himself from worrying about his kids, his great-nephew, his daughter. With heavy thoughts, Scrooge climbed on the Felynedworm’s back, Louie sitting in front of him and Goldie sitting behind him, wrapping her hands around his waist.

“I’m sure they will be fine, Sourdough. Speaking from experience, those three are not easy to take down,” she said.

“I hope you are right, Goldie,” he whispered as the Felyndeworm started his dash through the woods, “I hope you are right.”

……

The next few hours were a blur to Louie.

He rode on a dragon. His brain still hasn’t fully computed that.

He. Rode. On. A. Dragon.

Dewey would be jealous.

He only fully comprehended that he was riding a dragon once they were halfway down the mountain when the dragon stopped at Scrooge’s request so he could try and call their family.

“Come on, Beakley, answer the blasted phone!” he cursed as he attempted to call her for the third time, “Louie, call your brother or Webby!”

“On it,” he said, pressing the call button “I also sent them both texts, WhosApp messages, Eggstagram DMs, everything, even E-mails! No answer! And in the group chat, Huey says he got nothing from them since morning either!”

“Don’t ye worry the others lad, we don’t need overall panic at our hands or, worse, an unslept Della flying her or to Spoonerville and causing a ruckus!”

“Wait,” Louie who was just about to message his mum about the situation they were in, gave Scrooge an incredulous look, “you want to keep mum in the dark? Mr. Dragon, please tell me you have just accidentally caused temporary madness in him because that is the only explanation!”

“No, no I haven’t. Though I have to agree with you, a young one, and say that the idea makes Scrooge McDuck sound obtuse!”

“See, even he agrees! And he doesn’t even know mum! He can only see what she is like in my mind!” Louie pointed to his head.

“Lad, first of, we don’t want to deal with an underslept Della. I love my niece, but you know your mother…”

“Not a pretty sight…” Goldie agreed, “She tagged along on a few of my and Scrooge’s adventures, and trust me, an underslept Della Duck is still in my top 30 most scariest things I have ever seen..

“And secondly, as long as the rest of our family stays safely at the manor, the better. We don’t want them rushing out!”

“Fine! Just tell me, do you two want to be buried together? Apart? Grave next to the grave? Because once mum learns we lied, it’s your funeral!”

“Louie…”

“And yeah, you go and send mum we’re fine text. I don’t have a death wish…lying to mum…wait, is it lying if I just don’t say anything? Ugh, we’re dead!”

“Not a wise decision on either of your parts…though from the memory you just brought up, Scrooge McDuck, I can’t say I disagree with your notion.”

“See,” Scrooge, looking at Louie, and pointing to the Dragon, “he agrees with me! Now call Bentina, you infernal piece of cellular technology! Who made this? Waddle?! WHY IN THE DISMAL DOWNS DO I HAVE A PHONE BY WADDLE? BLASTED PIECE OF GOOD-FOR-NOTHING RUBBISH!”

This went for around half an hour, their snack-and-call break when the dragon told them they should get a move on, practically pulling them onto his back and scurrying downhill.

“This is where I leave you,” he said as they reached the edge of the forest, “I hold a great dislike for the concept, but I would say you are now my champions.”

Why don’t you go there yourself when you can clearly run down the mountain, great-powerful-SHIT! Didn’t mean that!

“Don’t worry, Louie Duck, I am not offended. That is a reasonable query. I can’t fly, and while the spell they bound me with has a little physical effect, unlike the one inflicted upon Scrooge McDuck, I still feel weaker. But worst is, in my weakened state, and away from this hill, even I am susceptible to the influence of the item you humans call Candelabra of Influence. I would be willing to break the rule of never leaving the cave…”

“Ok, no offence, and I know you already read my mind but that rule is bull!” Louie said.

“Agreed, I’m not the one who made it. But it’s there. Despite this, I would be willing to break it! But, and I assure you, risking me falling under the artifact’s influence would be an incomprehensively stupid decision. I am still connected to the artifact, I know who has the hold on it and I can tell you, it’s still not been used. It’s been almost 16 hours since the Candelabra of Influence was moved from its pedestal, leaving you a bit over 8 hours to stop the fiends that have taken it. That is, if I understand your human concept of time zones correctly, you have until 6 P.M. in Spoonerville.” He looked at them for a moment longer. “You need to hurry!”

“So, you are putting in our hands to retrieve the candelabra from the cult of Escuriada’s hands?” Scrooge asked.

“Yes, Scrooge McDuck. And you are right, considering your past here you should be honoured I’m trusting you, but keep in mind that I can read it. However, if you have somehow managed to hide your intention and you try to use it or keep it, also keep in mind that YOU are not a master alchemist and there is no way for you to take me down, and if I come…”

“I know. I’m not a fool. There are artifacts that should be left alone. And I do not desire world domination. We will retrieve the artifact and find a way to bring it back.”

“Goldie O’ Gilt?”

“What he said, it would look nice on my mantle, but I’ll settle on something from Beautiful Home.”

“Good. Do not fail adventurers.”

They went to the airport, Louie checking his messages, eggstagram, tweeter, still with no answer or any signs of Dewey’s and Webby’s activity.

Please be fine, please be fine, please don’t be paralyzed in some dark hole somewhere.

“We can make it,” Goldie said, “we might break several air traffic laws but we can make it!”

“Good! We’re saving the world, after all!” Scrooge added.

Louie tried not to let the fear settle in him but he was worried. Mrs. Beakley was usually always available. You could call her in the middle of the night and, she would answer the phone. If it was something stupid, she would yell at you, but she would answer.

Dewey was on his phone all the time, and Louie was worried by a suspicious lack of eggstagram stories from the fair. Not even a post on his Dewey dew-Night account. And Webby, when away from her friends, would often chat with Lena and Via via texts, so her absence was also unusual. Being unable to reach all three of them, especially after the slew of messages Beakley sent Scrooge the previous day that his great-uncle proceeded to passive-aggressively (and immaturely) ignore was freaking the boy out.

They tried to sneak to the airport as subtly as possible, but almost immediately bumped into Finnick. The poor guy, dressed in a pink floral shirt, was sipping on a milkshake which he immediately dropped at the sight of them, battered, dirty, and bloody.

“What the hell happened to you?” he asked, lifting his aviator sunglasses.

“Walked through the woods, attacked by cultists, slept in a cave, helped by the Felynedworm, have to save the world!” Goldie answered in rapid succession and Finnick’s eyes somehow grew larger with every item on her list, “Now, where the hell is Daniel. Look, kid, I’m not usually this nice, so I’ll offer this once and never again if you don’t have the stomach for all the adventure nonsense, take a day to hang here, go get yourself another milkshake, get on the next plane home, count the ticket covered.”

“Um, about that, Daniel is…well, recovering from last night…”

“You mean he is three sheets to the wind with some bimbo out there,” she said bluntly, “see, this is why we needed a second pilot!” she said to no one in particular.

“So…no day off for me after all, huh?”

“Either of you knows how to pilot?” Goldie turned to Scrooge and Louie.

“Why do you think I employed Launchpad as a pilot in Della’s absence?” Scrooge frowned.

“Nope, it’s Dewey’s thing”

“Well, kid, you’re working overtime, and I PAY overtime, so?” Goldie turned to Finnick.

“Jeepers this is the best!”

“Huh?” Louie stared at him.

“Did you just say jeepers?” Goldie stared at the young pilot blankly.

“Ok, so, most of the people think I’m crazy for this but, there is a reason I accepted a job with you! I couldn’t believe my ears when Daniel approached me with a job offer! I always dreamed of some crazy adventure coming to my door. But living in Procyonville, Iowa, well, the closest thing to it was a local adrenaline park that didn’t even have a zipline, except for summers with my grandpa-oh, sorry, rambling and I’m assuming we have little time. Point is, I don’t mind taking over, no! Being an adventure pilot is my dream job!”

“Great, mind you, life-peril bonus for your hourly wage is 70%!”

“Life-peril bonus?” he took another look at them, “Oh!” a bit of apprehension mixed into the excited look on the pilot’s face.

“What did you think, that adventure is just fun?” Louie asked him, “Have you seen Montana Jaws films? How many times he almost dies? Well, it’s like that, but worse!” the boy looked at the pilot challengingly, making him visibly nervous.

“Don’t worry, we can handle this, you’ll be safe at the airport.” Scrooge said, patting Finnick on the shoulder and tossing Louie a warning glance “now, how do we get to the jet without being noticed by every gaping tourist!?”

“They sell some clothing at the shop,” Finnick offered, “it’s touristy but good for fitting in here!”

“Ok, you are already rating better than Daniel,” Goldie whipped out a wad of cash and placed it in his palm, “get something for all of us and get yourself another milkshake. Scratch that, get all of us milkshakes, we’re saving the world we deserve it!”

“and hurry along, WE HAVE LITTLE TIME!” Scrooge yelled after him, checking his phone again. “Oh, please let it just be Beakley returning the favour for me ignoring her calls yesterday!”

Finnick was back within five minutes with a pile of clothes and four milkshakes. The trio dressed in what he got them, now looking no different than the rest of the tourists milling around.

No response from Beakley.

They got on a plane, Scrooge pulling a few strings to get them up in the air as soon as possible.

No response from Dewey either.

They sat down, reassessed their injuries, got themselves some food, finished the milkshake.

Webby wasn’t answering Scrooge’s calls.

They thought of disguises, Goldie keeping a decent stash of clothes and wigs on the plane.

Louie dressed in a floral shirt Finnick got him and sunglasses and he put on flip-flops.

Goldie was wearing a brown wig with grey streaks. She changed into a pink blouse and a pair of jeans, adding a straw hat and a camera around her neck.

Scrooge put on a fake moustache and new glasses Goldie had on a plane. He left his signature top hat and cane, opting for a bucket hat and an “I’m a tourist” T-shirt and a simple cane.

Stereotypical tourists indeed.

Still no answers or any social media activity sign from anyone in the fair trio. Scrooge was growing frantic by the minute, walking up and down the plane, calling Beakley over and over again and cursing everyone and everything, from Travis and Milene, the forest, the air control, the air that was “making the plane slower”.

Louie was right there with him, barely refraining himself from screaming at Finnick to fly faster, while Goldie was left with the role of the voice of reason, something she hated.

None of their calls were still being answered.

Six-hour flight. He couldn’t sit down, couldn’t sleep. His mind was a jumble of facts and worry.

The six hours felt like twelve.  

By hour two they were done with planning, nothing left to keep them interested.

By hour three, Goldie stopped teasing Scrooge, who was now simply sitting in his chair, a haunted look on his face.

By hour four even Goldie seemed worried, despite her animosity towards Beakley and claimed indifference towards the kids.

They couldn’t get a hold of their family. His brother was in danger, his…sister…was in danger, Mrs. Beakley was in danger. And they were in beautiful, luxury jet, thousands of feet above the ground, completely unable to get to them.

Chapter Text

A young ticket booth attendee stared tiredly at Scrooge McDuck dressed as an English tourist waving a wad of cash in his face.

“What do you mean we can’t enter? We’ve come all the way from England to get to the Annual Spoonerville Antique Fair! So what if we’ve forgotten to buy the tickets, I’ll buy them now!” Scrooge growled.

“Sir, I told you three times already,” the attendee sighed, “yesterday morning was the final deadline on ticket sales. There are no more tickets, I can’t let you in. Now, if you really want to get in so much you can call the committee or you can E-mail them but, since it’s Saturday afternoon already I can’t promise you they’ll reply.”

Louie apprehensively watched the scene in front of him, ready to bolt into the gym hall where the fair was being held as soon as Scrooge managed to get them inside. He had to admit-hearing Scrooge speak in an English accent was unnerving. Extremely unnerving. Even more unnerving than seeing his usually stingy great-uncle offering a pile of cash for three tickets.

“Come on, kid, we’ll even slip a bit more, just let us buy the ticket,” Goldie said, also acting as an English grandma on a vacation. “Let a lady get the nice teacups!” she tried her best innocent-yet-cool grandma impression and was quite good at it.

“Ma’am, how many times do I have to tell you, even if I wanted to, and I don’t, I couldn’t sell you the ticket!” the guy at the reception desk said firmly, clearly growing frustrated at the pair.

“Ok, then just, turn your head for a minute…” Goldie tried.

“Ma’am, sir, if you two do not leave this instant, I will be forced to call the security!” the guy said, raising his voice.

“Oh, bollocks to that!” Scrooge said, “If I want to get in I’ll-“

“Ok!” Louie said, grabbing Scrooge’s hand “you know what grandpa how about next time you come to the US a day earlier? Come on, we can try to find another way to get in, isn’t that right, grandma?” If Goldie could glare at him for calling her aunt she was straight up piercing his skull right now for calling her grandma, even as a part of their act.

“Yeah, come on old man,” she grabbed Scrooge, who was not budging, “come on, you know I can get us in somehow,” she dragged him away, and Louie followed. Goldie had a plan.

When they were a few yards away she turned to the two, “Ok, so,” she said in her normal accent, “we tried his way, buying the tickets, we tried bribing, now we go a bit sneakier way of getting in.”

“Fine, whatever, bring the wall down if you have to, but we need to get in!” Scrooge said desperately.

“No need when doors make for sufficient ways of entering. I noticed something when we were approaching. Come on, this way,” Goldie led the two to the side of the building.

Scrooge and Louie exchanged the glance and Louie saw the mirror of his own feelings on the old duck’s face. The same worry that gripped Louie’s heart, that made it hard to breathe or to focus, was etched into every wrinkle of scrooge’s face.

The uncertainty was killing him, the lack of information and facts made the angles blurry and he felt like he couldn’t function. So, he simply followed Goldie and Scrooge, trying to focus his thoughts so he could be of some help when Goldie told them her plan. He had a pretty good hunch it involved using a sufficient way of entering they were not supposed to use.

“Dang it,” Goldie cursed as she rounded the corner, gesturing them to stay put. “There is a guard at the back door! Even A-list celebrity concerts don’t have those!” she complained. “Ok, you two want in?”

“Yes!”

“Of course, I want to get into the bloody building, I’ll buy it if I have to!” Scrooge yelled, looking ready to call his accountants and tell them to buy out the gym hall in front of them.

“Scroogie, relax-”

“Don’t tell me to relax! My family is…well, hopefully in there and not in some crate on their way to god knows where!”

Goldie clenched her fists, took a deep breath, and said with surprising calm, “Scrooge, please, listen. I go there, distract that guard, and, while I’m busy, you two get in. You both know how to break a lock in case it’s locked.”

“Good, hurry!”

Goldie hunched over slightly, and walked over to the guard, “Excuse me, young man, I believe I am lost!” she said acting as a British grandma again, “Could you, please, show me to the nearest toilet.”

“Um, there is the one inside, but I can’t take you there unless you have a ticket, and I’m assuming you don’t since you’re here…“ the security guard said, “you know what, come with me and you can use the female staff toilet, hopefully, my boss isn’t there.”

“Thank you, boy,” Goldie replied and the guard lead her away from the door, glancing behind the shoulder.

“Damn, she is good,” Louie said as he and Scrooge, the latter limping slightly, rushed to the door. Scrooge tried picking the looks but to no avail, divulging into complicated alliterations and curses.

“Let me see,” Louie took the tools from his great-uncle’s hands.

“Lad, don’t feel disappointed if you can’t-“ he was cut off by a sound of someone falling to the ground, “What was that?”

Goldie rushed towards them, “Had to knock the guy out. Oh, don’t look me like that, Scrooge, he’s alive!”

“And when they find him...”

“You want to get to your family or not?” Goldie cut him off.

“And…I’m…in!” Louie exclaimed victoriously.

“Curse me kilts, lad you did it!”

“Let me guess, you couldn’t?” Goldie teased as they walked into the dark hallway, “Good work Sharpie!” Despite the uneasiness and fear, he beamed at the praise.

“Now, where in the world are we?” Scrooge asked and they walked down the hall to the door. Scrooge opened the door and they found themselves in the large hall crowded with people.

“Ok, that was probably too easy,” Louie said, “Something is bound to make this harder.”

“Ever an optimist, huh, Sharpie?”

“Nope, a realist. And come on, every time something seems easy on adventures, you have to prepare to have your but kicked by how hard it becomes in the following 10 minutes!”

“Let’s split,” Scrooge said, his face tense, “Less likely to be noticed, and more likely to find those who do. Goldie, I’m begging you-“

“Oh, I like that!”

“NOT NOW!” Scrooge puffed, his eyes both annoyed and pleading, “I’m asking you not to engage with Bentina!”

Goldie rolled her eyes, “I won’t if she doesn’t engage first!” she said.

“Fine, I’ll take it,” Scrooge said, as he walked away from the two. He glanced behind him, hating to even suggest splitting up in their current situation as it only made his heart heavier. But they could each fend for themselves for that short time and this was the best way of finding their family or at least a sign they were here.  

He rushed through the rows, pushing between people. Almost knocking the stands over, looking for a blue or a pink-clad duckling or Bentina’s familiar purple suit. He listened in at people’s conversations, trying to hear if someone spoke of two overly excited kids, a boy with surprising knowledge on airplanes, a girl who spoke over 10 languages, or a woman who scared the hell out of them from across the room.

Please be fine, please be fine, I don’t care if you spent ten yearly allowances, just please be fine!

And then he saw it. A familiar pink bow. Only a glimpse, but he knew it by heart, he would recognize it in a hair accessory factory among hundreds of its copies.

His heart lifted as the relief the kind of which he hadn’t felt ever since he realized that Donald didn’t fall into the oblivion vortex washed over him.

Forgetting his disguise, the vigilance, and wariness that went with it, Scrooge rushed down the hall, towards the corner where he spotted the glimpse of the pin, passing by a stand with very well-done fakes of the artifacts as he shouted her name.

“Webbigail!”

He didn’t notice the heads turning or the old fake artifact seller wickedly smiling as he slipped away.

….

“It’s all yours,” the seller said Webby and Dewey as they took a small blue figurine for June.

“Thank you!” Webby said as she added the figurine into her bag, “Ok, now, over to that nice red stand to get the plane model for Della, figure out something for Gosalyn, and then we should go get that almanac I have had reserved in the morning!”

“And we might even have a few bucks left!”

“Yeah, all in all, I would call this a very successful fair!”

The two of them spend the whole day bargaining and buying. The first few times, granny had to help them but eventually Webby dared bargain for herself and then, at the next stand, Dewey did as well. Eventually, they were doing the shopping by themselves, and Beakley left them for a while to do a bit of her own shopping.

Security was somewhat tighter, and there were no incidents like the previous evening. Everyone was even forced to leave their phones at the reception desk to prevent filming. Dewey complained about feeling cut off, but eventually, he forgot about it.

“Ok, now where was that red stand?” Dewey wondered around.

“Hey, look there, you think Gosalyn would like those old Olympic athletes’ photos?” she ran over to the stand, “Oh my gosh! They have her!”

“Who, who do they have?”

“What do I have?” even the seller asked.

“May I?” Webby reached for an old photo of a female terrier dressed in Titanic era clothes.

“Whatever, kid,” said the uncharacteristically bored seller. “I found it in my grandma’s attic,” she shrugged, “a whole bunch of them.” Webby frowned for a second as she reached for the photo. There were a few sellers there that were clearly just there to get rid of old items cluttering the attic, but even they were somewhat interested in what they were selling.

Webby stared at the woman, askance, “Do you even know,” she asked, “who this is?”

“Nope. Don’t know, don’t care. I just want to get rid of these old photos.”

Webby took a deep breath, her eyes glowing dangerously, “Dewey, remember how you said a few days ago that it’s a pity Gosalyn can’t come with us?”

“Yeah…”

“And remember that talk about murder mysteries on the train?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, it’s a really, really good thing she is not here because we would have a murder on our hands, but it wouldn’t be a mystery because Gosalyn would be the culprit! This,” she aggressively pointed to the photo in her hand, “is Queenie Norwich! The gold medallist in women’s archery in 1908! And look! That was the first woman to win a gold in figure skating! And that one was one of the first mainstream female boxers! I may or may not be a huge fan of her too. And I bet all these other women on these photos are important to women’s sports!”

“The box is literally titled, Collection of historical photographs of women in sports!” Dewey noticed, “Yeah, it’s a good thing Gos didn’t come…there would be blood, so much blood…” he shivered.

“Whatevs kids, you want the whole box? Look I sell the pictures like a dollar each so there’s like 30ish inside so, like, I’ll give it to you for 25$.”

“I’LL TAKE IT FOR 20!” Webby screeched, throwing the bill at the counter “I’m usually nice and wouldn’t lower the price but you don’t deserve these!” she grabbed the box and held it tight, “The disrespect!”

“Fine, whatever, happy to be rid of them. Sentimental hogwash…”

“And I’m happy you got rid of them because who knows what you would have done with them have I not bought them! I wish I could save all these beautiful items for your caress hands but unfortunately, I’m on a budget!”

With that Webby walked away dramatically, holding the box close as one would a small child. Dewey followed, throwing one last glance at the woman at the desk who returned to her magazine.

“I’m sorry, I probably overreacted,” Webby said as they walked over to the red stand with plane models.

“No, no you didn’t. Compared to how I imagine Gos would, you were downright calm. Also, imagine mum if any of those athletes were pilots. Hell, I would be mad, and mum would go completely of the rails.”

“Yeah…well, it’s a win-win this way. They get rid of the sentimental hogwash” Webby spit those words with such contempt she reminded Dewey of Scrooge when he was in a sour mood, “and we get incredibly valuable items. Aw, maybe I should go and give them more.., No, no Webby! If they were nice, you would!”

“Yeah, besides, I just realized, that woman, she is Lindsay Robin, from The Essence of Silver Serenity. Their company is, like, more fake than Waddle. They sell those really pricey random things, and they claim it will cure cancer or something. And they recently announced they are destroying their 19th-century house to make a modern mansion!”

Webby’s face grew dark, and Dewey suddenly realized that aside from Gosalyn he was also glad that Violet wasn’t there as well. Because, while Webby could contain her ire when by herself, the three would just egg each other on, and now he would have to give the alibi to the three murderers.

“Dewey…If I go steal those 20$ back, promise to stop me.” Webby finally said, looking ready to do way more than steal 20$.

“I promise,” Dewey said. “Now…the plane for mum?”

“The plane for mum,” Webby agreed.

It was only when they were well away from the stand that Dewey realized that Webby just called Della mum and that, as weird as his family structure was becoming, he didn’t mind this one bit.

…..

Bentina Beakley was in disbelief. Utter, complete disbelief. She stared at the person some 30 feet away from her, barely even blinking.

Goldie O’Gilt. The woman had brown hair and was dressed in what one would usually see on old ladies on long cruises, but there was no question about it. Goldie O’Gilt was here.

And no sign of either Scrooge or Louie.

I told him, Beakley thought as she crouched behind one of the stands, tossing an icy glare to the vendor there to stop him from staring, and know what, I’ll have to go and drag his bum out of whatever trouble she got them in. If she harmed Louie…

She barely restrained herself from rushing over to strangle the woman. She had to find Webby and Dewey first, tell them to get somewhere safely, then find O’Gilt and press her to tell her what she was doing there and what had she done to Scrooge.

She was angry at him, oh so angry at him. And he would hear her speak her mind once she saved him. Again.

She couldn’t even call them as they were forced to leave their phones at the entrance that morning. She was glad for the anti-paparazzi precaution but would do anything to get her phone at that point. She had no time to go get it though. By the time she would get to the entrance, O’Gilt would probably slip away.

Ok, Beakley, pull yourself together. O’Gilt is…well, there is a small chance she is innocent on all this, but probably not. Now, find the kids, tell them what is going on, or rather that you have no idea what is going on, and then you go and get her to tell you what is going on.

She moved through the crowd, keeping an eye on O’Gilt from the distance, careful to remain unnoticed. She moved behind crowds, walked past people carrying large objects, occasionally pretended to check one object or another.

She finally spotted Dewey and Webby, they were getting a plane model from a stand that was entirely painted in red. That was certainly one way to attract buyers. She glanced at O’Gilt for a moment. The conwoman seemed to be looking for someone as well. 

“Granny?”

“Webby, darling!” she jumped.

“What are you doing? Why are you stalking around?”  Webby asked. Her and Dewey, carrying a huge bag of trinkets each, looked at her curiously, their heads turned to the side.  

“I wasn’t…”

“You were trying to remain unseen,” Webby confronted her, frowning. Of course, Webby recognized that. Beakley was the one who taught the girl how to remain unseen in the crowd. If Webby watched her for even a minute, she would probably recognize her patterns, her moves, as natural as Beakley made them appear to a casual observer.

“Yes, well, listen, Webby, there is something I have to do, but I need you two to get to the exit and stay there until-“

Webby’s frown deepened, “Are you hiding something again? Are you hiding something from me?”

“No, no I wasn’t, I was trying to reach you without being seen by…someone else!”

“Who?”

Beakley sighed, she was not getting out of this one. And maybe she shouldn’t. Webby could handle the truth. As much of the truth Beakley had, of course. “Goldie O’Gilt. She is here. Now, I don’t know what is going on, so I need you too-

“A likely story!” Webby muttered accusatorily.  

“Webby please, I need you to trust me. I can’t give you all the information because-

“No! No more lies, nor half-truths!” Webby said angrily, her face flushed, he hands balled in fists. “What is going on?” she pressed on.

“I don’t know, I just saw something and I think-“

“If you saw something, and you’re suspicious of it, it means you know what it is. Or at least that you suspect what it might be!” they fight was noticed by the people around them. Some turning heads toward them, listening to the fight while others diverted their gazes, awkwardly shuffling away from the family drama ensuing in front of them.

Dewey looked around them, shifting uncomfortably, “Webby, we are causing a sc-“ the boy tried saying.

“I don’t care if we’re causing a scene! I don’t care if 100 journalists come here to ask me questions! I. Want. Answers!” she said firmly, “Not. Lies!”

“Webby, dear I know you are upset, but I promise you…”

“Like you promised the last time, huh? What else was a lie?” Webby made one step towards her, her body straight as a pole.

Beakley’s heart broke. Webby was crying, tears streaking down her face, but she stood firm in the middle of a row of stands.

“Webby I am truly sorry-“

“About what? Lying to me in the past? Lying to me now? Are you going to say I’m so sorry because I’m unable to tell you about this? Or is it going to be more lies, like those about me, like those about my parents! You made them up, haven’t you! Just another fabricated story! Did they even exist? Or were they just a fabrication, like everything else!”

Bentina took a step back, rocked to her core. Of course, Webby would question everything! The girl’s world got upturned two months ago.

And whose fault is that?

Webby’s accusations hit hard. She remembered her daughter’s face, her smile, her laugh… even 13 years later, she could call it into memory perfectly.

And now there was another girl in front of her. Webby stood in the middle of the row of stands, anger and hurt written across her face, now mixed with reluctant regret as the girl pulled back slightly, averting her gaze, unable to look Bentina in the eye.

Bentina knew hurt and shock, possibly worse, were written across her face. Her Webby, her granddaughter, if she still had the right to call her that, was pulling away, scared of her reaction.

And she wanted to yell, to scream, to cry. To lash out, let the hurt out. But she didn’t. Because someone else, the most important person in her life, was hurt first.

So she did the only thing she could.

She stepped closer and pulled Webby into a hug, the girl stiffening, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what is going on, I just saw Goldie. And-“

“Lou?” Dewey suddenly said and, despite her turmoil, Bentina turned around, only to see a boy in a Hawaiian shirt and sunglasses barrel into Dewey.

“YOU ARE NOT DEAD!” he exclaimed, realizing his brother and pushing next to Beakley, wrapping a stunned Webby into a hug, “And neither are you!” he let go of Webby and turned to Bentina, throwing his arms around her waist, “And neither are you!” he said as Bentina awkwardly patted him on the head, confused by this development.

“Huh, what is happening?” Dewey asked before she could speak the same question.

“Why are you not answering your phone! Why are there none of your usually annoying stories of Eggstagram!” Louie shook Dewey by the shoulders, “And why is Lena not telling me about you telling her about some random dagger from 17^th century you found here or something!” he turned to Webby.

“What…Louie, what are you doing here?” Beakley, confusion pushing the rest of the emotions to the back of her mind, “Wait, how are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be in the Rocky Mountains?”

“Lou-u-ie, du-u-de, ple-e-ase let go-o-o of me-e…” Dewey said, still being shaken by his brother.

Louie let him go, trying to seem nonchalant, but failing, “Yeah, I heard some lady complain to another lady about a crazy girl who was obsessed with old photos so,” he turned to Webby, a grin on his face, pointing to her with both hands, “I knew it was you! I’m so happy to see you, we thought you were-“

“Webbigail! Dewey! Thank heavens you are all right!” Scrooge appeared out of nowhere, pulling the two into an embrace. Bentina managed to catch Dewey’s eyes and the confoundedness and surprise on his face reflected her own.

“Dad?” Webby squeaked. “What is going on?”

Before she could collect herself, Scrooge released the two children and turned to her.

“Bentina, I’m glad to see you are all right but why aren’t you answering me blasted calls!”

“What? Haven’t you noticed they are taking phones away when you entered the hall? Wait a second, how did you enter when they are not selling tickets today? What is going on?”

“They are…right…we haven’t exactly taken the…main entrance,” Scrooge scratched the back of his neck.

“And you have some gall to call me out after not answering my messages yesterday!”

“Well, yes it may not have been the most mature response…” Scrooge admitted.

“You don’t say…” Bentina snorted.

“So why are you…oh,” Goldie approached the small group which was turning more heads by the second.

“O’Gilt,” Beakley said sharply, even though it was getting clear that Goldie hasn’t done anything too bad. This time.

“Beakley,” Goldie responded with an equal amount of animosity.

Swallowing her feelings, the animosity she felt towards O’Gilt, the frustration she felt with Scrooge, the hurt that was still heavy from the fight, Beakley looked between the touristy-dressed trio. Still glaring at Goldie, she asked, “So, which one of you will start explaining what in the world have you gotten yourselves into this time?”

….

Dewey’s mind was in a jumble. He and Webby were so excited the whole day, none of the awkwardness of the previous night carried over after their heart-to-heart.

And then everything went crumbling down. He got a feeling that Beakley truly didn’t know anything more than what she was letting on. Then again, Beakley was a special agent, as a spy and, as mean as it sounded, a master liar.

The fight between her and Webby was hard to watch. He equally as much wanted to jump between them and make them make up and to bolt to the other side of the globe to avoid awkwardness.

And then, Louie, appeared, immediately followed by Scrooge and then Goldie and now her and Mrs. Beakley were glaring daggers at one another.

“And what is that suppose to mean 22, glaring at me like I’m a common criminal!” Goldie was first to reply to Beakley’s question and Dewey cringed, knowing that was the wrong answer.

“You are a common criminal!” Beakley put herself between Goldie and Beakley.

“Scrooge I told you that-“ Goldie started to say.

“You told him what?” Beakley narrowed her eyes at her.

“If any of you were answering calls you would have known!” Goldie snapped back.

“Hey, our phones have been taken away!” Dewey retorted

“Bentina we were worried sick!”

“You think I can’t handle the kids!”

“We can handle ourselves!” Webby shouted.

“I couldn’t reach you and I knew you were in danger!” Scrooge yelled at them.

“The only danger here is-“

“If you dare say my name, I’ll show you danger!” Goldie threatened.

“Goldie please-“

“Don’t you talk to my granny like that!”

“Um, guys….” Dewey tried.

“Thank you Webby, but I can handle myself!”

“If you would all just listen-“ scrooge started to say.

“EVERYONE SHUT UP!” Louie suddenly yelled, making everyone startle and look at him.

“Ok, look, I know there is all off this” he gestured vaguely between the adults, “and well, I heard fighting. So there is all that going on as well. And I hate being the power through it and leave the emotions for the later guy, but, can we put all that aside? Because,” he took a deep breath.

“Ok, so there is the cult of evil alchemists around here and they stole the candelabra of influence and there is this dragon who kind of made us his champions to go and return it and if we don’t the evil alchemists, who are somewhere around here along with that candelabra, are going to take over the world and, oh yeah, if they manage to mind-control any of us they might reach the manor and then get all the artifacts there and more importantly the rest of our family and, oh boy, I just realized we totally forgot to call mum and the only time we did we lied to her and she is going to MURDER US when we get back home but that would be fine because that would mean we are all safe and alive home so she can murder us!” he finished in one breath, looking between the others, alarmed.

For a moment everyone stood still, the fair trio still processing Louie’s words, the emotions still running high, but everyone seemed to be willing to stop fighting.

“What?” Dewey was the first to speak, as his brain started working properly again.

“Please don’t make me repeat that,” Louie pleaded.

Mrs. Beakley was suddenly all business, “Wait, evil alchemists, you can’t mean…”

“Aye, it is,” Scrooge, much calmer, confirmed whatever she seemed to be worried about, “it’s them.”

Beakley’s eyes darkened.

“Who are you talking about? Uncle Scrooge, Granny, what is going on?” Webby asked, the fight between her and Beakley seemingly forgotten.

Scrooge looked over his shoulder, scowled at something, and turned back to them.

“Not much time to explain. In the late 80s, your grandma busted a so-called society of Escuriada, a group of, for lack of a better word and time to go into details, evil alchemists, as Louie said. A cult rather. We all believed them gone but yesterday, as we three arrived at the cave of the candelabra of influence guardian, we were attacked by a gang of their members. They managed to steal the candelabra, but before that, they got the information your granny and you were here so, they came here. Their members are somewhere among the crowd and so is the artifact. And I think I noticed a rather suspicious figure behind my back, 2 o’clock.”

Mrs. Beakley, her voice tight, asked, “You mean to tell me, that somewhere in here, there is one of the most dangerous artifacts in the world and we’re right in its reach? How did you…”

“If you dare accuse us of ‘letting it happen’ I’ll have you know that we almost died trying to prevent it from happening.” Goldie snapped.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure of it” Beakley’s eyes shone dangerously.

“Bentina, please,” Scrooge said, “Look at us, we tried! And Goldie pulled both me and the lad from quite a scrape back in the Rockies.”

“Yeah, she saved my life,” Louie said.

“Fine, I guess we can bury the hatchet for the evening,” Beakley agreed, her eyes drilling a hole in Goldie’s head.

“Fine,” the other woman spoke, glaring daggers.

Scrooge looked between them and sighed, “Ok, now that that is settled. I need us to find this,” he took out a drawing from his pocket.

“I know what it looks like, there is a book in the archived about old druidic artifacts,” Webby said, handing the drawing to Dewey who took it and looked at it. The Candelabra was a simple wooden cylinder with golden and green engravings and some ridges on the handle.

“So do I, I learned of it back when I worked on the Society of Escuriada case,” Beakley said.

“Good, that means only Dewey never saw it either in a photo or in real life!” Scrooge said, “now, I’ve been meaning to ask you, Bentina, do you know-“

“I’ll stop you right there, I know of it, what it does, what it looks like, but no more than that.”

“It’s an old druidic artifact,” Webby spoke up suddenly, making heads turn to her. “Um, as I said there is a book in the archives, I found it when I was looking for a way to bring Lena back. There is an incantation to start its spell and one to end it. And you need a large, open room for its usage. I don’t know why, I guess it’s just a druid thing. However, since it’s a mind-controlling artifact, you would need someone of a strong mind to read the counter incantation, before they fall under the influence of the candelabra. Oh, and the spell in Gaelic.”

“Ok, so, teach us the incantation!” Louie said.

Webby shrugged, “Um I don’t know the incantation! The book didn’t have it written down. I once asked Violet and she said that maybe, a regular stopping incantation could work, but I don’t know any of those either.”

“Ugh, where is Violet when you need her,” Dewey commented, “so if neither of us knows that spell, we will have no way to stop the cultists once they start using the candelabra!”

“Just one more reason for us to act quickly,” Scrooge said, “Now, where would I hid the artifact were I…”

“In plain sight,” Goldie shrugged, looking around, “we’re at an antique fair, there is no better place to hide it. Not like it’s large or noticeable. Or, if you want to be careful, there are the changing rooms. The candelabra could be anywhere in this giant, damned building!”

“Not anywhere,” Beakley retorted, “I wouldn’t describe the hallway in the back, let alone any of the changing rooms as large and open”

“Honestly it makes it even worse,” Goldie said, “I think I would rather search the changing rooms and bathrooms then all of this!” she gestured around herself.

“Can’t believe I’m saying this but, agreed,” Mrs. Beakley said, somewhere between surprised and disgruntled.

“So, the main hall it is!” Scrooge said, “now should we split up, thus risking being attacked, but covering more ground or should we stay together…”

They were at the antique fair. Dozens of stands. Thousands of artifacts. If you wanted to hide a single candelabra, this was a place to put it. Dewey started to look around himself, trying to spot the item he had the picture of in his hand.

“There!” Webby yelled, rushing over to the nearest stand, taking a candelabra from it and surprising the vendor. Are we really this lucky, Dewey thought?

“Huh? Where did that come from-” the vendor looked at the item, surprised, but didn’t get the chance to finish the sentence.

“Don’t you pretend to be innocent, you evil alchemist! You will not control our minds!” Webby jumped on the stand, pointing the candelabra at the flustered young pig who tried to back away.

“What? Evil what? What are you talking about kid, I never saw that thing in my life, someone must’ve forgotten it on my stand-”

“A likely story!” Webby sneered.

“Yeah Webs, that is not it,” Louie walked over to her nonchalantly. “Look there, it looks brand new.”

“Oh, so...it’s a fake…” Webby said, embarrassed, “I apologize,” she said to the vendor, “but I would advise you-“

“THERE THEY ARE!” a rough voice yelled from somewhere behind the group.

“Great, we got company,” Goldie noted as a few large figures were approaching them, “and I see at least five candelabras on the stands around us and, from this distance, there is no telling which one is real!”

“Right, they set up decoys, making this even harder. Clever,” Scrooge said, taking a dagger from the stand Webby just jumped off, “Young lady, I would suggest you leave the premises,” he handed the pig a banknote and she rushed off.

He turned back to the group, “We stay, we fight, we go around checking the items.”

“I don’t know how to recognize the fake from the real thing!” Dewey shouted, as he tried to avoid one of the men attacking them.

Webby jumped up, landed a solid kicked over the man’s head, “Yeah, and as you can see I’m rusty with it too!” she grabbed an old pot from one of the stands and hit the man with it. “Oh my god I’m so sorry for damaging such a nice item!” she said to the seller, but they were already gone, running towards the door.  

The entire hall was in chaos, their small group being approached by more attackers by the second while everyone who was not with them or a cultist tried to run away. Some of the vendors tried to pack their items first, but most simply fled, along with dozens of buyers and visitors, quickly turning into a river of people, knocking over stands and items and making the space difficult to navigate.

“You two stick to one of us four,” Scrooge, fighting against one of the men with his newly bought dagger, his opponent armed with a sabre. Scrooge ducked as the opponent threw, making a somersault, grabbing an old scarf from the stand on his right, 

“Right, Webby Dewey, watch for the alchemist disks-if they hit you they make you paralyzed,” he jumped up and over his opponents head, wrapping the scarf around his neck and, as the man tried to free himself. He knocked him over the head with the dagger hilt. As the man fell unconscious, another disk flew next to Scrooge’s head. Acting on instinct, her grabbed a fan from a stand next to him, using it to deflect from the disks as he engaged in a fight with two of the attackers. “I’ll pay for it later, run away and save yourself!” he yelled to the old man at the stand. “Avoid those disks at all costs!”

Someone grabbed Dewey by the arm. He twisted himself, managing to get free, but he bumped into one of the stands. As the evil alchemist in front of him reached for him again, the boy grabbed at the stand blindly and threw the first thing he touched at his attacker. The mand was momentarily caught off guard by an old pharmacy bottle hitting him in the forehead, followed by another, then a small bowl, a mug and a ballerina figurine. Dewey clambered over the stand, hiding behind it.

The man reached over the stand and Dewey, acting quickly, grabbed the door of the cabinet under the stand and closed it on the man’s hand, making the cultist howl in pain. Not letting of the door, he noticed an old shoe spoon near his legs, stretched and dragged it towards himself, taking it into his right hand and hit his attacker with it repeatedly. Another guy appeared behind him, and Dewey chucked the shoe spoon at him, but it didn’t slow him down. Using the door to slam the first attacked hand once again, Dewey rolled away, avoiding them both. He rushed between the stands, pulling Drake’s cape over himself so those disks wouldn’t touch him.

Someone grabbed him by the hood of the cape, pulling him back. He reached for a bottle on the stand nearest to him, but he just missed it.

“Hey, Bluey, catch!” he heard a voice on his left. It was Goldie, tossing him an antique silver mirror, before throwing herself, armed with-was that an old watering can?, at an opponent larger than her.

Dewey just barely grabbed the mirror and twisted so he was able to hit the woman who was holding him. He hit her in the shoulder, she loosened her grip, and he untied the cape, running away, leaving the cape behind.

“Sorry Drake,” he said, as he slipped between the stands, grabbing a broom on his way and leaving the mirror, which was somehow still uncracked, on the stand. Better not risk those seven years of bad luck.  

“Lad,” he noticed Scrooge standing by the stand next to his and rushed to his side. He and his great-uncle stood back-to-back, and Scrooge, the dagger in one hand a what he assumed was a replica of the candelabra in the other, handed him a sabre, “better than that cleaning tool you found,” Scrooge said, as he kicked another attacker away. His great uncle was clearly limping and trying to spare his injured leg, but was a dangerous opponent nonetheless.

“How many of them are there?” Dewey asked, breathing heavily.

“I don’t know,” Scrooge said as he blocked the club that would hit Dewey over the head.

“Thanks,” Dewey slipped under scrooge’s arm, engaging in fight with a short chicken that was fighting Scrooge until now. “I haven’t seen any of those candelabras, didn’t manage to look!”

“That’s fine, all the ones I found here are fake.” Scrooge kicked the opponent away, grabbed an old lampshade and pulled it over the man’s head, trapping him in it, and making him trip on the ground, before coming to Dewey’s aid.

Dewey, letting Scrooge take over, looked for Webby and the others but he couldn’t see anyone. He caught a vague glimpse of blonde hair, so he knew that Goldie was at least somewhat near, but no signs of anyone else. He hoped someone would find the candelabra, otherwise, they were in real trouble.

….

Louie was covering behind an old washing tub, holding the washboard as a shield, armed with his dagger. Beakley was fighting three cultists, Goldie was fighting two, giving him and Webby an opening to check the stands for the real artifact.

“Anything?” Webby, fighting young male swan, asked.

“Nope, not on this pile of-oh no!” a large hand reached for him and he stabbed at it, his dagger making contact wth the skin and the hand retreated. There were a few drops of blood there. “Nope, nope, nope…” he scrambled away, kicking the washing tub towards the attacker.

“There is a candelabra on that stand at 10 o’clock!” Webby yelled, “but I doubt they would just leave it lying around like that!”

“Yeah,” Louie agreed, knocking the attacker over his head with the washing board, only to trip and land on a pile of old wooden toys, “some of the cultists are probably around it. Also, OUCH!”

Webby jumped at the guy who was trying to attack him and he used the opportunity to look around himself. There were less people present, only a few very stubborn vendors and even more stubborn buyers.

And then he noticed it, a stand, halfway across the gym hall, surrounded by a few mean-looking people.

An in the middle of them was a familiar figure.

Robert was holding a candelabra as Louie’s phone sounded the alarm.

Their time was up.

Even if he ran like he never ran before, he would never reach the candelabra. Scrooge and Dewey were caught in a fight, so were the women.

He got to his feet, clearing the mess around him so he could run. He made a few steps and then noticed Robert raising the candelabra above his head, speaking words in Gaelic Louie couldn’t understand.

The effect was immediate, before Robert even finished the short incantation, Louie’s thoughts wandered off. He noticed all the valuable items around him, all the things he could take and sell.

What are you waiting for, now is your chance! Grab them, sell them, that old man over there, use his obsession to trick him to give you that old chalice for free and then-

Nope, nope, nope….Louie shook his head.

His family needed him.

He moved closer to Robert.

Oh look, a golden necklace to your right! Take it, boy!

Nope!

Ok, so, standing in one place was safe, as soon as he moved he started noticing…nothing, he was noticing nothing.

He looked around, his family now fighting with less vigour, struggling, he assumed, the same way he did. The cultists were fine, he assumed they protected themselves. And the vendors and visitors just stood around lamely, as if in trance.

There was a large goose running towards him,

“Webby! Goldie! Mrs. B! Someone!”

He turned around, noticing Webby and Beakley each caught in a clinch and Goldie was…running away.

Something broke in him.

He tried to get his dagger, but he realized he dropped it. His shirt didn’t have a pocket. He was unarmed, alone, and he had to stay in one place, less he succumb to the influence of the candelabra and rob the place blind.

And the goose was now only a foot away from him. He moved a bit, reaching for the nearest item he could get. And old umbrella. Universe really must hate him.  

Well, phooey, this was going to hurt.

…

Well shit didn’t cover the situation.

There was not a single word in 12 languages Goldie knew, including one from the dimension of Demigorgana, that could cover the current situation.

But she didn’t worry for long as she felt the effect of the candelabra instantly, her thoughts growing slower as if she were drunk, leaving only one thing untouched-the need to bail out of there immediately. She would go, save herself, live comfortably in her riches.

She ran, following her instinct, knowing she would make it. She was Goldie O’Gilt and she looked after number one. She stopped for a single Golden necklace she saw on her right-it could never hurt to have a bit more gold.

She heard Beakley screaming after her, heard little Pink Bow, the poor kid, but she didn’t have time to think about that, she could fight her way tough the mass and she could hear Louie call for help and-

Sharpie!

…..

Bentina yelled insults after O’Gilt but didn’t have much time as the two fighters the other woman was fighting so far attacked her.

Louie, who was improvising like crazy with an old umbrella fought next to Webby. She managed to keep him safe but was clearly struggling against the influence of the Candelabra, already having hit the boy twice.

“Webby, focus, please!” She heard Louie yell, but as she turned around to tell her granddaughter the same thing, she felt a bade just barely miss her hairline.

She returned her attention to the fight, as another opponent joined. Six against her, and she was slower, the influence of the candelabra.

Just give in, let go, the pain and guilt it will go away-

She fought against those thoughts, the need to rest, to let go, her mind unfocused while the six, admittedly skilled opponents, all protected from the candelabra, ganged up on her.

It will be nice; you don’t have to worry. You won’t hurt…

She kicked one away, blocked another, grabbed a metal box from the counter and hit third in the neck with it, evaded the fourth one’s blade, the first one stabbed at her again, as she blocked his attack, a fifth opponent hit her in the side, she yelped, hit her back, making her stumble into the sixth opponent and then the fourth one’s blade almost met her face.

But it didn’t.

Someone blocked the attack, a rapier against a dagger.

"You came back!" she heard Louie's jovial voice.

At first, she thought that Scrooge somehow teleported from the other side of the hall where the old man and Dewey ended up, but it wasn’t him.

“O’Gilt?” she was caught off guard for a moment.

“Will you just stare, fight!” Goldie said through gritted teeth and Beakley snapped back into reality, kicking the opponent number 5 in the stomach as she tried to attack once again, making her double over, as opponent number 6 recovered and joined number 4, fighting Goldie. 1 and 2 attacked Beakley, as number 3 was still trying to catch his breath.

“I thought you were running away!” Beakley shouted, her back now to Goldies, “saving your skin!”

“What can I say, changed my mind!” Goldie grunted, and Beakley glanced to her side, realizing that, before coming to her aid, Goldie knocked out the guy who was bothering the children. “Any idea how to stop them?”

“You heard Webbigail, we need an incantation? Wait a second, you’re Irish, do you know any?”

“What, you think Ma taught me Gaelic spell when putting me to bed? How would you feel if I asked whether you have a poster of the queen in your room?” Goldie retorted as she avoided number 3’s fist, as the man joined back in the fight.

“Well, asking can’t hurt and I wish she did!”

“For once we agree,” Goldie muttered as the two women fought back-to-back with surprising synchrony as if they were partners in crime for years.

“So,” Beakley scowled, “we’re doing this the hard way? You up to fight through the see of angry cultist while trying to remain sane and stop the leader?”

“Are you, 22?” Goldie asked as she kicked their last opponent in the chest, but more were coming, “You know, not trying to tell you how to do your job but, when you put an end to a cult, shouldn’t it be, you know ended?”

“Oh piss off!”

“Wow, Beakley…language…ACK!”

“O’Gilt!” Bentina turned, noticing Goldie hunched over, her hand on her wounded side, and the man raising a knife above his head.

Bentina punched her opponent in the face, then jumped between Goldie and the man, grabbing his arm and twisting until he fell to the ground and kicked him in the face, knocking him out.

“There, now we’re even,” she breathed heavily.

Lean in, come on, you want to-

“SHUT UP!” she yelled.

“Oh, they won’t leave just like that,” Goldie remarked.

Bentina frowned, “Yeah, I noticed,”

“Good thing we’re all too stubborn to let them win,” Goldie said.

You almost left us, Beakly wanted to say but didn’t. “Yeah, good thing,” she breathed. “Come on, they won’t stay down forever.” She noticed Goldie’s short, quick breaths.

“Are you all right?”

….

“I’m fine, no need to coddle me,” Goldie snapped, trying to straighten herself, her side burning like hell. She was tired, barely keeping herself on her feet, and in disbelief-her and Beakley working together, almost feeling like fighting side by side with an old, bitter friend.

“WAIT A MINUTE!” Pink Bows voice ripped through the air, making both women turn towards her, as they heaved, knowing that there are more fighters arriving.

Goldie looked at her side which managed to bleed through the gauze. Amazing.

“THERE IS AN OLD ALMANAC OF GAELIC SPELLS, AND I KNOW WHERE IT IS!”

“Why didn’t you mention it before?” Sharpie asked, buried in one spot, looking like he was focusing hard on something.

Leave them be, just save yourself, come on, you want it…

“Shut up,” she muttered, even as she just told Beakley that it won’t work.

Yeah, she knew what Sharpie was struggling with.

“Kid, move!” Goldie shouted as she and Beakley moved closer to children as Beakley’s opponent no1 and no4 got back to their feet and went towards the kids.

“Can’t! Working hard to focus on not going over and….you know what, I think it’s wiser for me not to say because if I do, I might actually do it!” Sharpie said.

“Where is this book?” Beakley asked Webby as two women and one girl joined forces in a fight.

Pink Bow, blinking rapidly as if trying to stave away tears or sleep, pointed down the row of the counters, towards where a huge pile of books was, “There, only a few meters away, ACK!”

“Webby!” Beakley and Louie yelled, but then a large bear jumped into the fight, going after Beakley who, being skilled and uninjured he deemed the largest threat.

“Go after her!” Beakley shouted to Goldie, “Find that book, read it!”

Goldie rushed forward, grabbed Webby’s attacker, and kicked him away, trying not to focus on the fact that Beakley, who hated her guts, basically just told her 'go keep my granddaughter safe'.

“Thanks, come on, where is-“ Webby started to ask.

“Your grandma is buying us time, come on!” Goldie told the girl and Pink Bow’s gaze hardened, she nodded and rushed down the aisle so fast Goldie barely followed.

“You will have to read the incantation, I only read Scottish Gaelic well!” the girl yelled. “Oh no, no, no…shut up, shut….ngh..” her voice was suddenly strained.

 “Kid wait-oh Fuck!” She realized that Pink Bow was now facing her, the girl's face blank.

“You won’t get the book,” the girl said flatly.

“Ok, Robert,” Goldie shouted over the hall, “how about you come face me like a real fighter and not trough a little-OUCH!”

Pink Bow attacked, her kicks swift, he punches strong, her fighting technique immaculate. Goldie was struggling, not only was her mind still sluggish, her side hurt, she was tired and, was she mistaken or did the girl get better at fighting?

“Hey, kid, Pink Bow, Webby,” She tried, “look, I know that you-fuck I don’t know how to get you out of this, OW!”

“Will you refrain from cursing in front of my granddaughter!”

“Well, glad to hear you’re still, fine! Also, your granddaughter is currently kicking my ass so I think she can handle a few f-bombs!” she yelled back, “Fuck!” She screamed as Webby kicked her in the injured side.

The girl relented, her eyes growing wide in horror for a moment, her hands raising to cover her beak. But then the moment was gone and Pink Bows eyes grew blank again and she attacked again.

“Well of course she is, I trained her!”

“You fucking trained her too well!”

“Language!”

“Gra…granny…” Webby’s eyes focused for a moment, she took her surroundings in, her eyes landing on Goldie for a second, “Oh my, miss O’Gilt I’m sorry it wasn’t….mphhh” she pressed both hands to her head, “…I think I heard my granny,”

“Yeah, yeah you did kid, you did…Beakley, say something!” Goldie said, keeping a defensive stance still.

“What?”

“She hears you, it helps her stay grounded and, because you fucking trained her too well, if she keeps fighting me in this state, hate to admit it, but I’m not getting that book!” she said, pain seeping into her voice.

“Granny…” Webby, her eyes confused, turned her face in the direction of Beakley’s voice.

“Webbigail…” Beakley was cut off, and Goldie was fighting the girl once again. She didn’t want to hurt the kid, she realized.

No, that was wrong. She never wanted to hurt the kids. She was a con artist, not a monster. But now she actively wanted to avoid hurting them. Sharpie took president in this, but Pink Bow was very quickly getting there.

Besides, her current partner was the girl’s dad and even if it wasn’t so, having Beakley on her back was just annoying.

“Come on, kid, focus! I know you probably want to beat me up because I locked you in the closet that one time-“

“I totally do!” webby screamed, and Goldie was pretty certain that wasn’t the candelabra but some deep, angry part of Webby speaking.

“But come on, you’re the nice one, right? So can you just please avoid my side?”

….

Webby felt floaty. Like when you only just start to wake up and you’re not sure what was real and what isn’t. She was fighting, she was pretty sure. And she was fighting well, something in her wanted to fight her current opponent.

Wait, where was Louie? Was he hurt, no, no he couldn’t be!

And her dad, Uncle Scrooge, and Dewey and, wait, was she even certain she wanted to fight Goldie and there was…

Her granny… where was her granny…

“Webbigail,” she heard a voice, as if it was speaking through water, “Webby, Webby dear can you hear me?”

“Yes!” she wanted to shout but it came out as a whisper. Something told her to hit the person in front of her, so she did. Wait why was she listening to that voice.

“Webby, please can you hear me? I’m sorry I lied, ok?” this got Webby’s attention. She was caught in one spot.

“I know it will take you a while to…to get over that, ok? But I wanted to say that I love you and I’m proud of you and no matter what you are my family, ok? That was real, I know my lies put doubt in your heart, but I need you to know that was real. And I believe you can fight this, but if you can’t, if you need to rest, it’s ok -ACK!”

“Granny!” Her mind cleared. She realized where she was.

“Beakley, what the hell was that, telling her to give up?” Goldie, holding her side, was in front of her, yelling towards her granny, sounding incredulous.

“Oh my, Goldie I’m-“ Webby raised her hands to her beak, realizing Goldie’s side was bloodied and that she most definitely kicked Goldie in that side at one point.

“Oh, welcome back! Also, we’ve been through this, I know, it’s not you Pink Bow, where is that damn book?”

“Oh, ok, here, here!” Webby grabbed Goldie’s free hand, leading her a few meters trough the mess and to the cluster of stands covered in books. She reached under one of them, taking out a rather small tome.

She hesitated for the briefest moment before giving Goldie the almanac. If Goldie wanted to hurt them, she could have simply left at any pint during their fight and it would do the trick, “page 150-something!”

“How do you-“

“I went troughs it yesterday when put it on reservation! Does it matter how I know? We don’t have time! Just read the spell and I’m,” she cracked her knuckles, and said in surprisingly dark voice, “I’m going to make this people regret ever touching me, my family, my granny, or our minds!”

Webby jumped back into the fight, as Goldie started reading.

Chapter Text

As she finished the incantation, Goldie felt her mind clearing, her thoughts fully becoming her own. No more additional voices telling her to follow her worst, most self-serving instincts. Just that same old voice that was always in the back of her mind, one she used to follow, that was now but a whisper she refused to listen to. It was still good to hear that voice again because that voice was her own, and not some magical knick-knack screaming in her brain.

But just as the brain fog lifted, she also felt the long cut hurting like a bitch. She instinctively reached for it, dropping the book on the ground.

There was a downside to the spell breaking. Of course, there was always a downside to everything. Apparently, she didn’t feel the full extent of the pain she was in due to the many injuries she got during the last 48 hours, and now she could feel every bruise, scratch, and cut on her skin, her side, in particular, flaring up with a vengeance. While it hurt before, the pain was now almost blinding.

She didn’t check her side, nor the palm she just held pressed to it. She knew the blood was breaking through the bandages again, probably even before Pink Bow kicked her in the ribs, and most certainly after.

She steeled herself, knowing it wasn’t over. The people they fought wouldn’t give up without a fight.

“Goldie, look out!” she heard Sharpie yell, and she snapped fully into reality, just in time to jump away from a tall alchemist armed with a rake who was trying to attack her. She looked to her right, where Sharpie was on the move again, having acquired a slingshot he was now using to shoot random objects he found on the ground at the guy with the rake.

Goldie reached for her knife, ready to take the guy with the rake head-on, but just as she grabbed the hilt, a pink blur kicked the guy with the rake in the head.

“What are you waiting for, we’re doing your job for you!” Pink Bow screamed at the group of security guards who stood to the side, dazed and bewildered. The girl didn’t wait for them to listen to her command. She did as she promised, making every one of her opponents regret ever deciding to fight her. The rake guy was unconscious within seconds and Webby fought two people who came to his aid. She was a whirlwind of punches and kicks, not letting her opponents catch a breath, she was fighting four to one and despite it, it seemed to be a balanced fight.  

Goldie turned around, ready to bolt towards Robert to try and get the candelabra from his clutches when she realized that Scrooge and Dewey were already on it, fighting the cult leader and his closest confidants. They were joined by security guards who finally seemed to have gotten their act together, now determined to do their job.

In a split second she took to decide whether to run to Scrooge’s aid or to stay and fight where she was, Webby was knocked into the counter next to her, the merchandise scattering around.

“Pink Bow!” Goldie spared her a glance, turning her attention to the large woman who knocked the girl over. Goldie reached for her knife and aimed it at the woman. She didn’t wait to see it hit the target, looking back over at the girl lying among shards of broken trinkets.

“I’m fine,” Webby shouted, trying to get up from the debris. She winced slightly but paid little mind to all the scratches and a small, slightly deeper, cut on her hand from which a thin line of blood was trickling, “they won’t knock me out that easily!” she grunted, determined.

“Goes for both of us, kid,” Goldie said, grabbing an old umbrella from one of the still-standing stands. “Come on!” she reached for the girl’s hand, pulling her to her feet.

Fighting back-to-back with Beakley was an unusual experience but fighting side-by-side with Webby even more so. However, the two of them had the upper hand over their opponents. Between Goldie’s experience and grit and Webby’s skill and tenacity, the alchemists who attacked them didn’t stand a chance. Especially with their morale being low, now that the adventurers foiled their mind-control plans.

They stopped tossing their seals at them, Goldie noticed. Whether they realized they were hitting their own more often than not or did they just run out, she didn’t know.

Her party was winning. She saw Beakley pushing her opponents back, Louie staving alchemists with his slingshot, Scrooge and Dewey holding on against Robert. With the security guards, and even some braver civilians joining the fight, the alchemist lost the advantage of the numbers.

But at that moment darkness enveloped the entire room. It wasn’t smoke, it was just darkness, thick and complete, making it impossible for anyone to see. She heard alarmed gasps and curses from the room.

“Goldie?” Webby said somewhere to her left, “What’s happening?”

“Some alchemist trick, I’d assume,” Goldie said calmly. As she was contemplating trying to attack the opponent she didn’t even see, the darkness cleared. She looked at Webby, the girl’s eyes confused. She was covered in what seemed like the thinnest imaginable coat of black dust. Goldie looked at her arms, realizing they were the same.

“They’re gone,” Webby said, “all of the bad guys, they are just gone!”

Goldie realized the girl was right, apart from the few people that were knocked out on the floor, every single cultist has disappeared. The entire room rang with gasps and cries of confusion, their unusual allies looking for people they just fought or studying the black substance on their feathers and furs.

“Webbigail!” Beakley approached them, Louie following close behind. Beakley crouched next to Webby, checking the girl’s arm.

“I’m ok, it’s barely more than a scratch,” Webby said even as Beakley pulled out a handkerchief from her pocket and tied the improvised bandage around her forearm, quickly checking over all of the smaller scratches on the girl’s body.

Goldie heard steps behind her and turned to see Scrooge and Dewey quickly approaching.

“Please tell me you-“

“I have it here,” Scrooge patted his pocket, “As soon as I had my hand on it Robert score revenge and then pulled out some magical doohickey and the entire room turned dark!”

“I’ve never seen darkness like that before,” Dewey said, “It's worse than that one time I dropped a flashlight in a cave.”

“We’ll save a sample of this dust covering us all, give it to Gyro for an analysis," Scrooge rubbed some of the substance between his fingers.

“Vi and Lena should also check it,” Webby suggested, “It is magical, probably.”

“Right,” Scrooge nodded.

“Well, now we have to disappear too, or we will have to explain to authorities what happened here,” Goldie noted.

“I don’t think that’s the case, Goldie, look,” Scrooge pointed to the entrance.

“S.H.U.S.H,” Beakley said, getting up and looking at the entrance through which about a dozen of agents entered. She didn’t sound particularly pleased, “Well, let’s hope this unit is led by someone I know from my S.H.U.S.H. days and-oh shit!”

The kids looked at Berkeley, their beaks open wide in shock.

“Breaking your own rules on cursing in front of children huh, 22?” Goldie asked, acting nonchalant even as she was mildly freaking out, “Nobody you have ties with?”

“Not time for jokes O’Gilt, because I do know the man who just walked in, and let’s just say that Gabriel, who seems to be the head of this case, is not good news.”

“You two don’t get along?” Dewey asked.

“I don’t get along with a lot of people, that is not the issue. He is a bigger stickler for the protocol than I ever was,” she said through gritted teeth. Dewey and Louie blinked and then the two brothers exchanged a surprised look.

“Wow, I thought that was physically impossible,” Goldie quipped.

“Shush!” Beakley said through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, I see they are here,”

Beakley scowled, “Cut it out! We need to get that candelabra out of here, and quickly. And you better fix that wig, they can't know you're here! The protocol says to take whatever artifact a scuffle like this led to HQ. Now, usually, I would agree but there are always exceptions. Such as this time. However, Gabriel doesn’t believe in exceptions. If he gets his hands on the candelabra, he will take it to HQ and then he will want to do the whole procedure and then…”

“S.H.U.S.H. will have a very angry guardian breathing on their necks,” Scrooge finished for her.

“Worse, the artifact will be out here in the world, takes only one more traitorous agent there, and boom! World goes to shit!” Goldie said grimly.

“Right, now…how do we go about it?” Scrooge asked.

“Well, whatever you do, do it quickly, he noticed us,” Dewey squeaked, as the tall terrier in a suit and tie looked over at their group, scowling. “I mean, I’m assuming it’s the guy in the most important-looking uniform!”

“Can we just talk it out, maybe he would understand?” Webby suggested.

“He won’t buy it if we say we can’t find the artifact, will he?” Goldie guessed.

“There is no talking with this guy and he will have the whole place turned upside down, ” Beakley said, “now, if I could get in contact with Von Drake, maybe he would listen to him but…”

Goldie noticed Sharpie’s expression. There was something cooking in that big, sneaky brain of his. Just as he was about to ask, Louie smirked, eyeing one of the fake candelabras lying in the mess “Say, Mrs. B., is this Gabriel guy an expert on old artifacts?”

“No, I don’t even know why they sent him and not Scarlet or literally any other high-ranking agent,” Beakley lamented, pinching her forehead. “Why do you…oh! Quite a devious plan, Louie,” she said, smirking, as she realized what the boy’s idea was.

“Good thinking, lad,” Scrooge smiled, and Goldie simply patted him on the head.

Louie shrugged, grinning, “What can I say, I learn from the best.”

“Ok, I’m not following, can someone please explain what is going on?” Dewey asked.

…..

Less than an hour later, they were getting out of the cab at the almost completely empty private airport. Beakley’s reputation did enough even for Gabriel so that he let them go on a promise to have a webcam call later in the evening.

Still, even at the airport, they wanted to be on the move on as soon as possible. If Gabriel realized they exchanged the artifact for a fake one, they were screwed. Even if somebody pointed out that hey, that was Goldie O’Gilt over there, a known trickster, criminal, and swindler, just in a brown wig, they might lose the good graces Beakley’s, and Scrooge’s standing granted them.

Especially since the place was closed by S.H.U.S.H. for ease of operation, the airport crawling with agents.

“Miss O’Gilt, Mr. McDuck, everyone else,” Finnick came to greet them. “I’m not entirely sure what is going on, those people,” he pointed to the group of S.H.U.S.H. agents, “appeared and they started clearing the airport. They only let me stay, said I’m connected to the case which, I’m assuming had to do with the adventure we pulled off because I’m not connected to any other cases!”

“This is your new pilot?” Beakley asked incredulously.

“Yes, and he’s doing a good job of it,” Goldie retorted. “You’ll learn what is going on in due time, Finnick. Now, how quickly can you get us into the air?”

“As soon as I get the clearing from the flight control,” he said.

“Great, let’s get a move on, we need to be in the air before Gabriel realizes what is going on,” Scrooge said.

“Right, setting the course for Duckburg?” Finnick asked.

“No, Rockies. We have to return a certain item where it belongs,” he smiled.

But as they approached the plane, they realized they weren’t alone. Standing next to the aircraft, tall and proud in all his glory, was the Felynedworm. Four wiggling figures were next to his feet.

“Holy Guacamole!” Finnick exclaimed, his eyes growing large, hairs practically standing on his head. “It’s, it’s…”

“An ally,” Scrooge put his hand on the young raccoon’s shoulder, smiling.

Webby let out a small squeak, looking ready to burst into a thousand questions, same as Dewey next to her. Beakley seemed almost entirely unphased, while Louie simply nodded at the large creature.

“Oh, so now you can come here when we already did all of the work, great!” Goldie snorted, earning a disapproving glare from Beakley. “What? I’m right, aren’t I? Besides, he can read my mind, no point in hiding it!”

“And I’m grateful to you all for what you did today. I stand by what I said earlier, it would be a risk for me to be anywhere near the candelabra while it can be used.”

Beakley reached into her jacket and pulled out the item, handing it to the Felynedworm who took it gently with two of his talons. “Thank you,” he said, “and for breaking the protocol you regard so highly to protect this.”

“It’s only reasonable,” Beakley said, “besides, I’m an agent no longer, I don’t have to uphold protocol.”

“My, my Mrs. B,” Louie said, “finding loopholes.”

“Louie, If I didn’t find the loopholes, we’d still be in those changing rooms turned interrogation rooms,”

“Now,” The Felynedworm said, “To settle some of your worries. Finnick Isthminson, you don’t have to worry, I will not turn you into lunch or rather dinner, not even a midnight snack,” he said with a low chuckle and the pilot visibly relaxed, “Yes Dewford Turbo Dingus Duck, I can read your mind and I know you want to ask me if I know the number you are thinking off. I know that were I to say 42 or something, you would say that I’m wrong and that you are actually thinking about one bajillion three hundred thousand billion twenty million five hundred and 43 thousand and fifty-five. I also want to tell you that that is not an actual number.”

“Oh my god, he really can read my every thought!” Dewey turned to Webby, his face amazed.

“And yes, Webbigail McDuck-Wonderquack, while it is not a custom, you may rush to me and tackle me, in a hug”

“EEEEK!,” Webby squeaked again, rushing over to the Felynedworm, wrapping her arms around his neck for a second, and then assuming a more serious stance in front of him “Thank you, it’s truly an honour to meet you, I didn’t mean to be bothersome, well, you probably know that since you can totally read my mind! And I have so many questions and I don’t even have to ask them!”

“No, you don’t, however, we have to settle another matter first, as we have company,” he looked behind the group and everyone turned around. Two young agents, a short female duck, and a slender male dog were there.

“We just got news from Gabriel,” the second one spoke, “and-and…” he faltered under the combined gazes of the three adults, three children with surprisingly burning death glares, and the dragon behind them.

The guy gulped, but continued, “He realized that the artifact you gave him was a fake and you can’t…” he turned to Beakley, looking desperate, “agent 22, ma’am I mean, I’m sure you understand, it’s protocol.”

“Protocol is here to ensure the safety of agents and the world. In this case, following it would bring more danger than safety which means that the existence of the protocol, in this case, is contradicting itself,” Beakley said calmly. “We brought the candelabra to its rightful guardian and if Gabriel has any issues with it, he can come here to discuss the issue himself. I’m sure that the guardian would be willing to talk,” she said.

“Gladly,” the Felynedworm huffed.

“Yeah, yeah of course…I’m sure you will do a great job. Guardian…Mr. dragon. Sir.” the other young agent was barely keeping her composure, “Well, we will need a full report on this and…”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get a report on the events, if you need one, from me personally,” Beakley said glaring at them. The two shrunk somewhat under her piercing glare and her eyes softened, “And agents?”

“Yes, a-agent 22?” the young woman spoke.

“Tell Gabriel to call me. So, I can personally tell him to, if he has issues, come settle it himself and not to send agents with, what, a year of field experience?”

“8 months ma’am,” the young agent said. “And 11 in my partner’s case. I will tell him that. I think we’re done here…good day, I mean night everyone.” she turned around and marched back to their group, followed by her partner, who spared them a short glance.

“Well, now that that is settled, I have to leave you. I need to take this to my home, and you should go back to yours to rest and take care of your injuries.” The Felynedworm said, “Don’t’ worry children, you may ask me questions some other time.”

“Oh man, to wait 27 years…” Dewey complained.

“It’s fine, Dewey, we will be there,” Webby patted him on the back.

“I might make a little exception, as a token of gratitude,” the Felynedworm said, “if you two, with your brothers and sisters, and yes I am including your friends in that,” he answered Webby’s unspoken question and she grinned, “come to my mountain at any time, I will come to greet you!”

Webby looked as if she was going to explode, “Thank you! Thank you, thank you!” then she turned to Dewey “We need to clear our schedules! And tell everyone to clear their schedules, we have an adventure to plan!”

"Yeah, but can

“With that, I leave you. I thank you again for your help. Goodbye, adventurers,”

….

“Well, this is one of the shorter flights in my recent career,” Finnick said as he was preparing for take-off. The flight to Duckburg was barely a half-an-hour flight. “I would say fasten your seatbelts but I’m pretty sure nobody is going to listen so just, please, try to remain seated.”

“Oh, oh, can I co-pilot?” Dewey peaked into the cockpit.

“Uh… can he?” Finnick turned to the two old adventurers.

“Let the lad be,” Scrooge said, “trust me, he is quite skilled already!”

“Hey, this is my plane, you don’t call the shots, Sourdough!” Goldie, having finally discarded the brown wig, gave him a side-eye, but relented, “I guess, if you are a captain now, you could use a co-pilot! Just don’t crash the plane, you two,” Goldie called from her seat, her voice strained.

“Woo-hoo! Thank you, Goldie!” Dewey exclaimed, taking the co-pilot seat, “I flew a cargo plane, but I’ve never even been in a cockpit of a jet! Is it different? How different it is? Oh, is this the altitude indicator? And this is the speed indicator, right?”

“Yeah, that’s correct and here you have- Wait, wait, wait, back up,” Finnick asked, “You flew a cargo plane? By yourself? How old are you?”

“Uh-huh! I’m 13, I kept the Sea Duck, this big, old amphibian plane so steady my mum could walk on it. Oh, and I flew the CloudSlayer, that is my mum’s plane, and did some sick evasive manoeuvres. Granted I ended up crashing into another plane but that was totally on purpose. Wait, forget that last part!”

“You crashed a plane? Into another plane…on purpose?” Finnick blinked.

“Was really a life-or-death situation, I had to think on my feet. Or rather wings,” Dewey pointed finger guns to Finnick. “Everyone in the plane lived, by the way. One living proof is in front of you, and two more are in the cabin.”

Finnick stared at Dewey for a second then grinned, “Sounds like a crazy story!”

“Yeah, it was a really crazy adventure!”

“Jeepers! Tell me more!”

Back in the seats, Goldie laughed listening to the exchange, “Are we certain we should let those two together? They seem way to excited about crashing for two people flying the plane we are in?”

“Eh, let them be,” Scrooge disregarded her worry, “Besides, I’m usually flying with Launchpad and Della behind the stick, these two are an improvement regarding safety,” he chuckled.

“And you are still breathing,” Goldie said when suddenly Beakley appeared in front of them. She frowned, “What now 22?”

“Move,” Beakley said to Scrooge.

“What? Why would I-“

“Because I have to stitch O’Gilt’s cut,” Beakley said, shooing Scrooge away.

Goldie rolled her eyes, “I’m fine,”

“Oh really? Is that why there is a red stain on your shirt? And why you look pale as a sheet of paper? How you are still standing is a mystery!” Beakley said, setting down a small surgical kit. “Scrooge, move!”

“I don’t need you to nurse me to health, 22!” Goldie protested.

“I’m planning to nurse everyone on this plane to health because you all need it! Took care of kids first, now it’s your turn.”

“Oh really, and since when are you a doctor, 22? Scroogie here can do the job perfectly fine!”

“He is one of those in need of nursing as well, so no, he can’t!”

“Erm,” Scrooge said, scratching his neck, looking between the two, unwilling to pick a side, “I’ should…what do you say Dewey? I can’t hear, you know, these old ears,” he said, limping over to the cockpit to answer Dewey’s imaginary call.

“Pfft, coward!” Goldie called after him.

“Well, there we can agree,” Beakley said, smirking. “Look, I may not like you, but I’m not cruel. And I’ve had extensive medical training during my career as an agent.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Goldie realized there was no fighting it, moving her hand so 22 would have better access to the cut. “It’s been over 24 hours since I got this, so…”

“So, it’s a good thing you have a stack of lidocaine and antibiotics, neither of which I’ll question the source off, on the plane otherwise this would not be a pleasant experience,” Beakley said, taking out a scalpel and setting it down on the sterile cloth.

“See, I plan ahead! I’m surprised you don’t carry a full advanced first-aid kit in your pocket wherever you go!”

“I was supposed to have a nice day with the children! And I was, until you came to crash the party!” Beakley said as she cleaned the wound, perhaps a bit rougher than strictly necessary. To Goldie’s credit, she didn’t even flinch.

“Well, sorry to come to give you a warning and save the day!” Goldie retorted with a grimace.

“I do suppose I owe you one for that,” Beakley said begrudgingly, her hands becoming noticeably gentler, “And for looking out for Webby.”

“That kid can look out for herself, she is at least 10% of the reason for this mess!” Goldie pointed to her side.

“I know,” Beakley said proudly, “I raised her, I trained her.”

“Gee, stop sounding so torn up about me being in pain,” Goldie snorted, but Beakley ignored her.

“Now hold still,” she said as she held the syringe with lidocaine, “so I’m done with this as soon as possible.”

….

Goldie leaned in the plane chair as Beakley put the gauze over her fresh stitches.

“Well, I have to say, I’ve had worse nurses in my life,” Goldie quipped, patting her clean bandages and putting on a clean shirt.

“And I’ve had worse patients,” Beakley said. She looked down the plane to where Scrooge and Louie sat, “In fact, I’m going to check on one right now.”

“Oh, come on, give Sharpie a break, he is a kid,” Goldie said.

Beakley looked over her glasses, “I wasn’t talking about Louie,” she said flatly.

Goldie smirked, “I know, I just wanted to hear you say it!”

Beakley shook her head, “You are an enigma, O’Gilt.”

“Wrapped in a mystery, inside the riddle, or however the saying goes!” Goldie said and Beakley shook her head, exasperated, and then left to deal with Scrooge.

“Actually, it’s a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma,” a young voice said and Goldie turner to see Webby taking a seat next to her, looking unusually unsure of herself.

“Nerd,” Goldie said to her.

“Are you ok?” the girl asked quietly.

“I’ll be fine, Pink Bow. In a week or two, this will heal. In a month or two, it’ll be just a cool scar. How’s your arm?”

Webby looked at the bandage on her right forearm, “Fine, granny put a few butterfly stitches just to be sure. Could leave a cool scar too, though.”

“You’re more of a toughie than I thought, aren’t you?” Goldie asked.

Webby gave her a tiny smile but still seemed apprehensive.

Goldie rolled her eyes, “Come on, get it off your chest, Pink.”

“I’m really, really sorry I kicked you where you were already hurt,” the girl looked at her apologetically. “Badly hurt.”

Goldie waved it off, “Don’t bother Pink Bow, I know it was not the real you,”

Webby put her hands together, staring at the plane carpet, “Yeah, about that, there was a small part of me that was there,” she said sheepishly, “that was kind off…on board,” she winced.

Goldie looked at her, raising her eyebrows, almost laughing, “Look at this, our innocent little Pink Bow has a dark side!”

The girl curled up in the seat next to her, pulling her knees to her chest, “Maybe, but I don’t like it!”

“Pink Bow, the vengeful!” Goldie teased, earning a frustrated glance from Webby.

“It’s not funny, I really do feel bad!” she cried, frowning. “I don’t like being vengeful!”

Goldie elbowed the girl gently, “So I guessed correctly, it was about me locking you into the wardrobe that one time, huh? Wasn’t just the candelabra talking?”

The girl cringed, “Yeah, a bit,” Goldie crossed her arms, smiling at the girl approvingly to which Webby frowned. “You don’t seem angry,” the girl said.

“I’m not, not at all. I can appreciate it, in fact. You have a vengeful streak Pink, can be admirable.”

“How can it be admirable!”

“Keeps you on toes around certain people, makes it harder for you to be taken advantage off, and, especially when dealing with some little ball of sunshine like you, is rather unpredictable. Which is good in a fight, for you. Not for us opposing you. Besides, don’t tell me you are not someone who appreciates a good rematch.”

Webby turned her face away, almost in a pouty manner.

“Oh, come on! Sharpie tells me you are someone who loves it. That you make your opponent regret ever spiting you, or something like that!”

Webby looked at her again, still pouting but there was a hint of a smile, “Fine, I do. Especially with a worthy opponent. But it’s one thing in the game of darts, or extreme hide and seek, or chess, or trivia, or friendly sparring...”

“You know what, I’m a bit concerned you put trivia on that list…”

“Trust me, my friend Violet is a savage in trivia. But she will rue the day she dared defeat Webbigail McDuck-Vanderquack!”

Goldie laughed, “And you’re telling me you are not vengeful!”

“I’m not! It’s a game! I would never actually hurt Violet. I simply want to crush her in trivia because it would feel nice! She is on my level, way above my level, intellectually! Playing trivia with her is a satisfying challenge! Also playing with Huey. And we’re all having fun like that, we’re competitive. It’s not vengeance, it’s a rematch!” she said, frustrated, “It doesn’t involve holding grudges! I don’t like holding grudges. And acting on them. It feels…underhanded”

“Not underhanded. Ruthless, sure, but not underhanded.”

“I’m not ruthless,” Webby muttered, leaning her chin on her knees.

Goldie laughed again, so much her wound started to throb, “Oh that is a lie if I ever heard one.”

Webby glanced at her, seeming a bit annoyed, but then relaxed, smiling slightly, “All right, you got me there…”

“I know, and I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. Sometimes you got to be ruthless, that is one of the few things your grandma and I would probably agree on. I’ve seen you go off on those cultists, and let me say, it was a sight.”

Webby grinned widely, but her eyes gleamed dangerously, “Well, as I said, you don’t touch people I care for or make me hurt them without regretting,” Goldie just stared at her pointedly, “Fine! Maybe I can be a bit vengeful in certain scenarios. And I admit, I was lying earlier, I have most certainly have been known to be ruthless.” She admitted and Goldie chuckled. The kid was a riot.  

“Your fighting has gotten better since our last hostile encounter,” Goldie noted.

“It’s been three years and I’m constantly improving,” Webby said proudly. “I train every day. And those cultists are far from the best fighters I clashed with.”

“I know, I was talking about fighting me!”

“Well, I fought you before, so I knew what to do. And you were exhausted, which I can admit gave me an advantage.  Also, you were injured which, I would usually never use to my advantage but…”

“Uh-huh, riiight,” Goldie interrupted her, earning another indignant huff.

“I wouldn't!”

“What if I was a big, scary villain trying to hurt your friends?”

Webby slumped in her sear, turning her head to Goldie, defeated, “Ugh…why are you making me ponder moral dilemmas!”

“I’m the morally grey chaotic influence, it’s my job!” Goldie said wryly.

Webby huffed, “Fine! In that scenario, I probably would, happy!”

“Just trying to make you admit something you know deep down. Speaking off, come one, there was more to that training of yours, you knew how to block some of my signature moves way too accurately. How’d you learn how to do that?” Goldie inquired with genuine interest.

“I just practiced a lot, and…well…” Webby twiddled her thumbs.

“Well?” The girl turned her head away. Goldie nudged her, “We both know you are going to spill the beans eventually.”

Webby looked at her as if she wasn’t sure whether she was supposed to be proud or embarrassed about what she was going to say, “I may have procured the surveillance footage from Everglades and may have studied your fighting style for hours in order to be better prepared and to expand my roster of skills! Oh goodness! That sounds so weird when I say it out loud…”

Goldie snickered, “It does, but I think it is excellent! Sneaky, determined, committed. You are still a class A goody-two-shoes but one that can’t be stopped when she has a goal. How did you procure that footage?”

Webby looked at her smugly, but clearly beaming at the praise, “I’ll keep that information to myself.”

“I’ll find out eventually,”

Webby considered it for a second, “Actually, I might tell you,” Goldie raised her eyebrows expectantly, but Webby raised her finger, “but, in exchange for learning how you managed to sneak into the manor.”

Goldie snorted, “Pfft, no way!”

“Then the manoeuvre you used to take me down three years ago? I’m still trying to figure it out from memory but am unable to do it on my own.”

Goldie stared the girl down for a second, but the duckling’s resolve didn’t waver, “Well, well, turns out I was right. Again. You could be somewhat decent at bargaining,” Goldie held out her hand, “I could probably figure it out, but as a show of goodwill, you got a deal, Pink Bow.”

“Deal!” Webby shook her hand.

“So, how’d you get it?” Goldie asked.

“Hey, shouldn’t you uphold your side of the deal first?” Webby narrowed her eyes, “All right, as proof of my own goodwill, I will be the one to uphold the deal first!”

“Shoot,” Goldie said nonchalantly. If the kid wanted to blow the deal she just made, so be it. Maybe it would be a lesson learned.

“I have…wait!” she looked at Goldie as if to say you can’t trick me that easily “Louie?”

“What?” came a drawn-out word from the seat on the opposite side of the plane, where the boy lounged.

“Come over! I need a witness!”

“A witness for what? And why me?”

“That Goldie and I made a deal!” the girl glanced and Goldie smugly, “And that I will uphold my part! Everyone else is busy!”

“Ugh, fine!” Louie dragged his feet, “Ok, now do it so I can go back to resting!”

“Ok, so,” Webby said smugly, “I have stolen the surveillance camera tape.”

“And?” Goldie asked.

Webby blinked, wide-eyed, “What? I took it, the cabinet wasn’t even locked.”

Louie coughed into his hand, “Stole it!”

Webby barely spared him an annoyed glance, “Borrowed it! Transferred the video into digital and have saved it in my archive, that’s it!” Webby shrugged, a bit too innocently.

“You got me to tell you the secret of my fighting style in exchange for there was a cassette tape and I stole it?” Goldie looked at her, incredulous.

“Borrowed it!” Webby repeated.

Goldie’s expression turned into a smile. “Well played, Pink Bow, well played!”

“Yeah, not a bad job, Webs,” Louie said, walking back to his chair and slumping into it.

“I’m not as bad at being sneaky as everyone assumes,” she said. For a kid who was trying to act all virtuous and nice not five minutes ago, she was way to smug about this. “So, you will uphold your end of the deal, won’t you?”

“Let me guess, if I don’t, you’ll try to track me down and pester me until I do?”

“Yup!”

“Fine, Pink Bow. I’m not saying that I’m worried you’d be able to track me, you wouldn’t, people with more experience than you have tried and failed. You would still need a lot of practice to have the chance at catching me. But I do admit I like your spirit,” she smiled. Patting her bandaged ribs gently, she said, “When this heals up, we’re having a training session.”

Webby was bouncing in her seat with delight, “Thanks, Aunt Goldie!”

“Ugh, don’t you start as well!” Goldie rolled her eyes.

“Why can Louie call you that?”

“He can’t, but he does!”

“Uh-huh…”

“Fine, call me whatever you like. However, I do have one line that shall not be crossed!”

“Ok…?”

“No calling me stepmom, or mum, or any of those,” Goldie said firmly.

For a moment, Webby looked uncomfortable, and then shook her head emphatically, “Oh, no don’t worry! That won’t happen! I’m still trying to figure what to call Scrooge! And I may have had a bit of a revelation regarding another person today so…family stuff with me is weird…you are part of it, by the way. You have your little place on the board and everything.”

Goldie was caught off guard, “Well, in that case of course it’s weird. Look, I’m not one for these deep talks usually but these two days have already proven to break all my usual rules so, what the heck. That weird family stuff, take it from someone who avoided facing it her whole life, don’t do the same.”

“You regret it?” Webby wondered.

“Not particularly. But I’m a very different person than you, Pink Bow. And you, being the soft-hearted ball of innocence, albeit, with a surprisingly sneaky and vengeful streak, you might,” Webby just sighed, looking downcast but pensive.

“Hey,” Goldie said after a few moments, “say something because I don’t have any more of this heart-to-heart nonsense in me, I’m really running on fumes!”

This got a small chuckle from Webby, “Ok. I guess, well, you and Dewey said the same thing to me in the last 24 hours, you know, to address that stuff, and you two are such different people with very different perspectives so if you agree on that thing, I guess I should listen to you.”

“I always have smart advice to give, not just when I agree with Bluey!”

“I’m going to take that statement with a grain of salt, but thanks Goldie,” the girl looked at Beakley and very fussy Scrooge.

“I would say anytime, kid, but please, I’m sure there are other people better equipped for talking about certain issues than I am. Also, I don’t want you to bother me.”

“Can I just ask you one more thing?”

“If you insist,” Goldie sighed.

“You know Scrooge the longest, you think…you think he would be angry if…”

“I’m going to stop you right there, Pink Bow,” Goldie said, “that is something you will have to talk to about with old sourdough.”

“I just want your advice…”

“Yeah, well, I had a lengthy conversation with Scrooge yesterday, and let me counter your question with another question. Who has been avoiding whom since that last adventure thing?”

“Oh…”

“No advice of mine is going to change it, if you want to solve it, you have to talk to those two. Trust me, if I can talk about feelings, so can you,” she thought about it for a second but ended up patting the girl on the shoulder slightly.

“You give weird advice. Or rather, you give advice in a strange way,” Webby concluded, “Still it helped. So, thanks. Again. Oh, I think we’re almost over Duckburg!” she ran towards the window, “You know, I adventured a lot, but I never flew in a regular passenger plane till today!”

“Hey, don’t insult the Golden Bird by calling it regular, you are flying in a luxury jet, kid!”

“I mean a plane that isn’t a cargo plane!”

Scrooge approached the two, choosing to sit in the seat opposite to Goldie’s, “So, which one do you like more?”

“I have to say, this is very cool, but I prefer the Sunchaser!”

“Webs, you don’t know what you’re talking about! This is the life!” Louie said from his seat, “Hey, how are we getting home, I mean there is six of us now and just Uncle Donald’s car!”

“Six?” Goldie asked.

“Oh yes, almost forgot,” Scrooge said, “come over to the manor tonight, Goldie. Wouldn’t be the first time you join me after an adventure. It wouldn’t make sense for you to go to the hotel now,”

Goldie looked at him, “Inviting me for dinner, Scroogie?” she asked, refraining, for her own safety, from implying anything else. Webby was well within the earshot and Beakley was putting away used scalpels. Saying even the most subtle innuendo would be a dangerous game.

“Well, of course,” Scrooge said.

Beakley passed them, “You are coming for dinner,” she simply said, allowing for argument.

Goldie blinked, “Did…? Did 22 just invite me for dinner as well?”

“Nope!” Sharpie answered, “She said you are coming for dinner. So, you are coming for dinner. You don’t refuse Beakley for dinner…”

Goldie looked at Louie and his harrowed expression, “Ok...I guess I’m…coming for dinner,” She shrugged, ignoring Scrooge’s lovesick expression.

“By the way,” Louie said, “I think I figured out how the candelabra works?”

Dewey cut in from the cockpit “Wow, Louie, you figured it out! Great job! May I ask, is the mind-controlling artifact, you know, mind-controlling? A stroke of genius!”

“Shut up, I mean, I figured the mechanism!”

“The mechanism?” the other boy questioned.

“Oh, I know this,” Webby cut in, “three classic ways the mind-controlling artifacts work. The override, the relaxation, and the darkest impulses mechanisms!”

“Well, this is the darkest impulses one? Right? I mean, all the time it was like go steal that gold, go grab that necklace,” Louie said, “It’s a bit muddy already, like that one time I had a concussion, and I couldn’t remember stuff right, but I know that is why I had to stay in one place. Any time I would move closer to any valuable item. I would want to take it! Just like you said yesterday, Uncle Scrooge dips into your darker thoughts, ideas you would never actually go through.”

“For me, it told me to leave,” Goldie shrugged, not elaborating further.

“Um,” they heard Dewey cut in, “for me, it wasn’t that. It was just like, hey you want to do this, and I was like, um, no I don’t. And then it was like yeah, you do, you want to hit Uncle Scrooge! Which I don’t, not even deep down. And then I had to think about how I don’t want to hit him, and I certainly don’t want to help the bad guys!”

“The overriding method!” Webby said, “for me, it started like that. Then it was like, hey, let me worry about things, so, relaxation, I guess. And then…well,” she gave Goldie another small, apologetic glance, shrugging.

“All three methods?” Goldie wondered.

“Adapting, too.” Scrooge said, “For me, it tried to get me to get all the gold, but when that didn’t work, it went the so-called, relaxation method.”

“Well, that is concerning,” Goldie said.

“Aye, but let’s not worry about it tonight. We are heading home, and we all need rest. Besides the candelabra is safe for the next 27 years and 4 months, nothing’s getting to it!”

….

They landed at Duckburg airport, said goodbye to Finnick. They invited him to dinner as well, but he told them that he wanted a calm evening and he was about to meet his boyfriend anyways. So they packed themselves into Donald’s car. Beakley drove, with Scrooge in the passenger’s seat, Goldie, Louie, and Webby in the back, and Dewey opting to drive in the trunk, sitting next to a pile of presents, so they were not overly cramped.

When Louie brought the issue of dinner up, Beakley simply parked at the nearest Hamburger Hippo parking lot, grabbed Scrooge’s wallet from his pocket, much to his chagrin.

“Why should I pay for food here when we have perfectly good food at home?”

“Because, unless you all plan to dine on cereal, food at home has to be cooked first, and, after having to nurse this entire group for the last hour, I reserve the right to rest!”

“Cereal is perfectly good dinner…” Scrooge mumbled.

Dewey looked at him from the trunk, “Really, you invite Goldie for dinner, and you plan to offer cereal? Wow, good to know that whenever I plan to bring someone over for a date, I should ask someone else for advice, because that is a huge romantic no-no! Goldie, I would be offended!”

“I am, but I don’t know why. We should all know your great-uncle is a huge cheapskate!”

“I also would much prefer a hamburger to cereal!” Webby piped up.

“Also, I thought Beakley’s rule went It may be your manor, but it’s my household or something, therefore, she should be the one deciding on the food and the budgeting for said food!” Louie jumped in.

“You are right, Louie. That is the rule,” Beakley said, looking at the boy approvingly.

“Why in the dismal downs are you all ganging up on me?” Scrooge grabbed his wallet from Beakley’s hand, put it in his other pocket, only for Goldie to tap him on the shoulder, catching his attention and kissing him on the cheek. She used this distraction to slip her hand into his pocket and hand the wallet over to Beakley.

Beakley grabbed it, “Thank you, O’Gilt,”

Scrooge was borderline fuming, “Since when are you two allies?”

“Since I want a decent dinner and she is the one offering to buy it!”

“Since I don’t want to cook and, well, I may dislike her, but every woman invited to dinner, deserves a decent dinner!”

“Female solidarity wins again,” Goldie said, leaning forward, resting her chin on the back of Scrooge’s seat, playing with his whiskers.

“I cannea win, with all of you against me, can I?” he sighed, a note of amusement in his voice. “Fine, you’re right. Couldn’t call myself a gentleman offering cereal for dinner. Also,” he looked over at kids telling Beakley their orders, “I think you all deserved a bit of spoiling.”

With the kids cheering, Beakley went to buy a whole bunch of food.

…….

Getting to the manor was relieving, even as Goldie noted how unusual it is for her to get in through the door, instead of sneaking through the window.

Finally, they were face-to-face with Della. They endured her interchangeably bear-hugging them from worry and yelling at them and scolding them for not giving her a call.

The kids received most of the hugs, while Goldie and Scrooge received most of the scolding.

In the end, she took mercy on the two centurion palookas, as she called them, remarking that they look miserable so she took pity on them and decided to stop roasting them. This, to the two proud individuals, was a worse punishment than being yelled at for hours.

And of course, everyone knew that Della was aware of that.

She snickered wildly at Scrooge’s and Goldie’s offence as Beakley received another call from S.H.U.S.H.

“They want witnesses, better only Scrooge and I go, kids, if they ask, you’re all asleep. I won’t have them questioned and bothered!”

“Ok,”

“I might actually be asleep,” Louie said.

“And what 22, I’m one of the kids now?” Goldie asked, “You do know that more than twice your age?”

“Yes, you are. You are also on S.H.U.S.H.’s radar. Someone must have picked up on that since they saw you at Spoonerville. While we can’t deny your involvement, well, we can say you…slipped away in the meantime.”

“My, my, willing to lie to your former agency for me, Beakley, I’m flattered.”

“No, I just don’t want to deal with them coming here to arrest you and the accompanying paperwork,” Beakley said matter-of-factly.

As Scrooge and Beakley left for his office, Della, Goldie and the kids moved into the TV room where Huey and B.O.Y.D. were talking.

“Dewey! Louie!” yelled Huey as he jumped from the sofa to greet them, “Webby! You guys are all right! And…miss Goldie?” he quirked an eyebrow at her.

“What, no kind greeting for-Woah!” she jumped between Dewey, Louie, and Webby as the other child in the room, B.O.Y.D., stood in front of the group, looking innocently at them.

“Um, Aunt Goldie,” Louie took a step around her, “We’re chill with B.O.Y.D. now, remember, he was there at the Alexandria? Helping!”

“Oh, right!” Goldie cleared her throat, moving so the kids could greet and hug.

“Oh my!” Dewey looked at her, his eyes wide.

“What Bluey?”

“You jumped between all of us and BOYD, not just Loue! You care!”

Goldie rolled her eyes, “I’ll carefully hurl you across the room kid if you don’t stop looking at me like that!”

“Hey, don’t talk to my kids like that, or I’ll yeet you across the room!” Della pointed her finger at Goldie aggressively, “Besides, B.O.Y.D. is a sweet cinnamon roll! He wouldn’t hurt a fly!”

“Um, miss Della, the last time I saw miss O’Gilt, aside from Alexandria, I wasn’t really a sweet cinnamon roll. Doofus’ programming took over and I attacked her and Louie. I apologized to Louie since,” he said looking at the other boy, who simply shrugged and nodded, “but not to miss O’Gilt.” He turned to Goldie, extending his hand in greeting, “Hi, I’m B.O.Y.D., a definitely real boy.”

“Yeah…you introduced yourself once already…” Goldie took his hand with slight apprehension.

“Yeah, but my name is a bit different now. Also, I’m sorry I almost bashed you with a piñata bat!”

“Well, that is a second time today a child apologized for trying to kick my ass-“

“Language!” Della warned.

Goldie looked at Della, “Since when do you care about language?”

“Since when all my kids, plus Gyro’s kid, are in the room!”

“Ugh, I thought you’re the cool mum!” Goldie rolled her eyes.

“I am the coolest mum, but I’m still a responsible one!”

The kids ignored the two women squabbling, and Huey turned to his siblings, “So, how was your day? I want to hear everything. Did you get hurt?” he walked over to Louie, who, seemed to be in the roughest shape “Are you injured? You’re not injured. Oh no!” he turned to Webby, noticing a bandage on her arm, “Webby you are injured! Is it ok? Are you-

“Hue, please, ease up on the responsible older triplet thing,” Louie yawned as Webby patted a panicked Huey on the back, “We’re fine. You think Beakley would let us walk if we weren’t?”

“Sorry, sorry! It’s just been two really trying days…”

“Yeah, I should probably be asking you if you are fine too, but you wouldn’t have the energy to be such a bother if you were hurt,” Louie said, not bothering to stop Huey from lightly swatting him over the head. “As for the story, well…should I start, or will you two?” he turned to Webby and Dewey.

“Well, we spent the entire Friday looking for gifts and we can’t speak about details without revealing what they are, and we want to keep them a surprise. So, since you probably have more interesting things to talk about, you start,” Dewey said.

“And then you two have to tell us about what happened in Duckburg! I can’t believe I missed out on a robot apocalypse!” Webby added. “But please, let us go first! That is, we should all let Louie go first.”

Huey and B.O.Y.D. nodded and all the kids sat down, while Della and Goldie still bickered.

“Ok,” Louie said, “so, for a while, it seemed like an ordinary adventure…”

They told stories of alchemist cultists, ruined fairs and dragons, of robots attacking Duckburg and Mark Beaks being a jerk. At one point, Della and Goldie stopped their squabbling and have joined and so have Gyro and Penumbra, having walked into the den to check what the ruckus was.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Della said when their stories were finally over, “Kids, Goldie, you are going to witness my and Gyros Alley Fighter rematch!”

“Pfft, a rematch! As if you are going to win!” Gyro snorted.

“Oh, I’ll beat your character to pulp this time, buddy!”

“Really? Like the last three times? I could defeat you with one arm tied behind my back. Oh wait, I already basically did that since I have one arm in a sling!” he taunted.

“I’m on team mum!” Dewey called, earning looks from everyone, “What, I’m cheering!”

“I’m with Blue Della here! I shall support my best friend to the best of my abilities!” Penumbra said and Dewey gave her a high-five.

“Well, in that case, I’m cheering on the nerd,” Goldie said, earning confused glances from the entire room, “What? He didn’t call me a centurion palooka!” she said and Della stuck her tongue at her.

“Miss O’Gilt, if this was a bet, that would be a wise investment!” Gyro said smugly.

“I’m with Goldie!” Louie said, “Sorry mum, but we need to keep things balanced!”

Della put her hand to her chest, "Betrayed by my youngest," she joked, "this hurts."

“And I’m also cheering on da-dr. Gearloose!” B.O.Y.D. said, high-fiving Louie.

“In that case, it leaves me and Webby on mum’s side,” Huey said, “what do you say Webby? Webby?”

Webby stood, noticing her grandma walking by the den door. She knew this meant Scrooge was alone in his room, at least he would be for a while. She glanced to the floor for a moment, then caught Dewey’s eyes. The boy seemed to catch on her train of thought, and he gave her a small nod.

“Um, sorry, guys, I’ll come to join later. I need to have a few important conversations first,” she said, taking a deep breath, exiting the den.

Chapter Text

Webby steeled her nerves as she stood at the door to Scrooge’s office.

She could do this. She had to do this.

Not talking about the family problems is what got their family into half of the messes they were in, she knew that. But now she realized why people didn’t like talking about their issues and messes. It was scary. It was hard.

It filled her insides with dread of saying the wrong thing or hearing the wrong thing. A different, worse kind of fear that one felt when fighting an enemy or walking over a large ravine.

But she was Webbigail McDuck-Vanderquack. She could do this.

With one final deep breath of resolve, she knocked on the door.

“Come in!” came a voice from the room. Webby opened the door, peeking her head in. Scrooge sat at the desk, writing something down, his hat laid down on the pile of papers at the edge of the surface.

“Hi,” she simply said, closing the door.

“Ah, Webbigail, dear, come in,” Scrooge smiled, putting the pen down, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, shouldn’t I be asking you that? You are in worse shape than I am,” she said, walking over to his desk.

“I’m a bit worse for wear, but I’ll be fine. Your granny did a good job with the worst of my injuries. I’m completely patched up, now I just need a few days of rest. Luckily, this paperwork will keep me busy and tied to the office for a while.”

“Is that the report for S.H.U.S.H.?” Webby looked over Scrooge’s writing.

“No, I’m making some notes for me own reference. And for the archives. Quackfaster would see me killed if I let the opportunity such as this one slip.”

“Oh, oh! Can I help? I mean, I haven’t seen as much as you did on this adventure, but I can still help, please?”

“Well, of course!” Scrooge said jovially, “Do take a seat. Do you want something to drink?” Scrooge said, reaching for his kettle, “I know you are partial to juice, but I hope some tea will do as well?”

“Yes,” Webby brought over the chair from his chess table and placed it next to his office chair. “Do you have herbal tea?”

“Aye. Now, here is the teabag you used last-” he noticed the side-eye she was giving him. He sighed, “Fine, you get a brand-new tea bag. I’ll spoil you rotten.”

“I think you are the only person in the world who would think that using a new tea bag constitutes spoiling one rotten,” Webby noted.

“Are you calling me stingy?” he asked, handing her the saucer and the cup.

“Mph-m,” she nodded, “You could ease up a bit. What are you writing about?”

“I just finished putting down the details of mine, Goldie’s, and Louie’s interactions with Felynedworm,” he said, giving her the paper and she read through his neat cursive.

“Did Louie really tell him he sounded like Wandalf the Ashy?” Webby asked.

“He thought it, the Felynedworm read his mind. And you must admit, the lad is correct there,” Scrooge chuckled.

“He is kind of. So, if you’re done with this what were you putting down when I entered. You looked like you were deep in thought.”

“The influences of the candelabra,” Scrooge pointed to a piece of paper with only a few lines written on it, “There are few written records of it, and I see why. My memory of the experience is becoming blurry already, and it’s only been a few hours. I was trying to recall it and to find the right words to describe it.”

“Yeah, the memory is slipping from me too. But I can still hold onto the feelings. At first, it was like…someone screaming in my head. As if someone else took over. Just like Dewey said, that voice told me to do things it wanted to do, not what I wanted to do. Like to hit Louie. And I managed to chase it away…and then…well, in the end, it drew on the bad things I thought. I was still a tiny bit angry at Goldie and it used it,” the girl slumped.

“We all have bad thoughts, Webby, you cannae blame yourself for it. I know you wouldn’t hurt a fly usually. Well, unless it’s an evil fly.”

“Yeah, I would fight the evil fly. And I’m sort of glad I’ll forget the mind-controlling experience. It was unpleasant.”

“You glanced over the middle part,” Scrooge said gently, encouragingly. Even back on the plane, he noticed that Webby had mentioned that the candelabra influenced her mind in all three ways. He had a suspicion that the still unaddressed issues that arose after the battle against FOWL were what the young girl would feel the need to escape from, thus risking giving into the influence of the candelabra that way.

Something similar happened to him, although for him having a daughter and things changing wasn’t the issue. It was the ever-lingering guilt he felt regarding the choices he made towards his family, Webby included. Escaping from it, giving into the voice that told him that he should just let go and everything will be easy and fine would be, cowardly as it sounded, a relief.

“Yeah well,” Webby played with her friendship bracelet, not looking at him “It was the so-called relaxation method. Although, I’m not sure it’s the proper name for it. It feels way more sinister. I-I have a lot of conflicted thoughts and feelings recently and I don’t really want to deal with them, and I think the magic felt it. But I know I must face it so,” she shrugged, “That’s how I managed to block its influence in the end, by thinking about it,” she looked up at him a shy, yet proud smile on her face.

“My strong girl,” Scrooge ruffled her hair slightly. He looked at her, his eyes proud and soft, but also somewhat sad, “You haven’t come here just to talk about the adventure, did you?” he put his cup on the desk, giving all his attention to Webby.

Webby let out a long sigh, “No, there are bigger things too.”

“You are ready to talk now,” Scrooge said, a statement, not a question.

“I’m sorry it took me so long. I know you wanted to talk about everything that happened for a while,” she said sadly.

Scrooge gently put a hand on her shoulder, smiling at her, his eyes remaining soft, “Don’t apologize. You needed time. That is to be expected. That’s why I haven’t pressured you into it. And to be honest, I didn’t know how to approach this conversation either. Which is far worse, since, after all, I’ve been through, all my years of experience, I shouldn’t be a shy coward.”

“It’s just…I know how delaying inevitable conversations can be bad,” Webby said, “and I avoided this one for a while. But I really didn’t know how to address it before. I talked to Dewey yesterday and to Goldie today and some things clicked that haven’t sooner.”

Scrooge let out a short, self-deprecating chuckle, “What you want to say is that this family doesn’t have the best track record of talking things out, do you? Perhaps we don’t. But there is a difference between giving yourself time to be ready to talk about something and avoiding it for years. And I’d be a dirty hypocrite if I took umbrage at either. And as I said, I didn’t know how to handle this either. I should be the one who knows how to talk about heavy topics. I’m glad you approached me with the talk first because that means you feel ready to talk. But I’m the adult and were we to let the issue linger unaddressed any longer, that would be a failing on my part, not yours.”

Webby gave him a small smile, “Well, it’s not like adventures can prepare you for finding out you had a cloned child this whole time,” she said, her tone painfully understanding.

And then decided to jump straight into the issue, no beating around the bush. She was there to talk things out, so she would talk things out, “Ever since the battle against F.O.W.L., I didn’t exactly know how I should feel. At first, I was so, so happy. I was ecstatic! I mean, you know that! I called you ‘dad’ less than ten minutes after I found out about it! Which, that must have been a huge shock to you…” she stopped, waiting for his reply.

“It was quite a big one. Though it didn’t fully compute until we got back home, or rather, a few days after,” he admitted.

“Right. I think that it was the same with me. I mean, I took that fact and just ran with it, not considering the implications. Because as much as I like that you are my dad I…you…” she sighed, “Well, you didn’t want me!”

“Webbigail…” Scrooge felt a huge lump in his throat. How should one even respond to those words? Words that were harsh but true.

“No, no, I’m not angry,” Webby said, surprising him. “I’m not hurt about it. You didn’t even know who I was. Not in relation to you. It’s not your fault, I know that. Someone made me, your daughter, but not you. Which is kind of messed itself.  But, and I know it shouldn’t matter, you are not my dad in that way. It’s complicated to explain even to myself.”

“I know, darlin’. But believe me, when I say, I do want you in my life,”

“I know. But I wasn’t a planned child. I’m not even an unplanned child, the result of, um, an unplanned pregnancy,” she said, a note of awkwardness seeping into her voice, “You never saw me as a daughter, and I never saw you as a dad or thought of you as a dad. And when I learned that you are, I thought I would eventually, but it’s been two months and I still see you as Uncle Scrooge most of the time. Maybe it will change, and I thought it should change, that it must change, so I tried to change it but…I think I like it better this way.”

She looked at him, lovingly but apprehensively, as if expecting him to be angry at her admission.

“Webby I,” the old duck sighed, wringing his hands in his lap, fiddling with his sleeve cuffs, “what you say is true. I never,” he closed his eyes, hoping his words wouldn’t hurt the girl further, yet knowing he had to say them, “never saw you as me own daughter,” he opened his eyes again, forcing himself to Look into Webby’s, trying to convey her love for her, all he couldn’t convey through words alone. Her eyes were open wide, inquisitive and resolute but not angry, there wasn’t pain in those eyes.

“Not in a traditional sense,” the old duck continued, “But for the last three years since I got to know you, I thought of you as my family. You were one of my children, my wee ones, just like the lads are, like Donald and Della are. I know I haven’t always,” he gulped, “expressed that, that I’ve said things that have hurt you immensely,” he looked at her, his eyes filled with regret.

“It’s ok, I forgave you for that a long time ago,” Webby said her smile genuine as ever.

“And I thank you for that. For your kindness, for the grace, you offered me even when I might not have deserved it. And for being my family, for making me part of yours. I may feel a bit more protective of you ever since, and I promise I’ll try not to be. I know it annoys you. You are my daughter, but I love you and the lads equally. I know it may sound cold to say that finding who you are my blood doesn’t change anything,” he said, his voice tight, apologetic, “but it’s the bonds we made that matter to me more than- oof!“

Webby threw her hands around his neck, wrapping him in a hug so fierce she almost knocked him over together with his chair. He returned the hug with equal ferocity, holding her close as he knew tears poured from both of their eyes.

“I’m glad! I’m glad that is what is most important to you because it’s what’s most important to me. It’s cool that I’m your daughter, but it’s more important that I’m one of your kids because I know how much that means to you. That you included me when talking by your legacy so often when we were at the Castle McDuck when we fought Jormungandr and every other time! I don’t need you to be my dad, not fully. You are but you aren’t.” she let go of the hug but stayed sitting on his lap.

“Because you are my Uncle Scrooge. You were my Uncle Scrooge first and you will always be my Uncle Scrooge! And I don’t want that to change just because our DNA is more similar than we believed,” she frowned, “Actually our DNA is virtually identical which…ok, that is philosophically too deep to ponder right now,” she yawned, resting her head on his shoulder, “too tired.”

Scrooge chuckled, throwing his arm over her shoulders, “A lot of deep philosophical talks coming from just one piece of information, eh?”

“Yeah, It is a pretty big piece of information.”

“Life-changing,” Scrooge agreed. “And also, not at the same time.”

“I just…I want to be part of the family; I want to be accepted and appreciated for being me. For who I am, for how I treat others, for the relationships, we forged through our adventures, and not for some molecule in my body if that makes sense. I don’t want to be viewed differently just because of it. I want to be a person, not a DNA sample!” she said resolutely, then frowned. “Ok that sounded weird, but it’s true! Does that make sense?”

“Perfect sense, dear,” he said, smiling softly.

“So, you won’t mind if I call you Uncle Scrooge still? And also, sometimes dad because, you are both?”

“Webby, you can use whichever title you feel most comfortable with, you can just call me Scrooge if it makes it easier,” he stroked her hair. “You are part of my family all the same, and I’m honoured you are in it. But even more so that you consider me and have considered me part of yours. I’m so sorry I don’t tell you that enough, that I haven’t made that clear enough before.”

“You said it enough times for it to sink in,” her tone remained kind.

“No, no I didn’t. I always forget that while actions speak louder than words, there is a reason we have words in the first place,” his eyes were still sad and apologetic and he gently put a hand on her head, “but I promise, I will make attempts to correct that. Steps I should have started to take a long time ago.”

Webby wrapped her hands around his neck once again, “It’s ok, but, yeah, it wouldn’t hurt to hear nice words a bit more often. And not just ones for me,” she said.

“Calling me out in the gentlest way possible, eh,” Scrooge let go of the hug ruffling her hair, “Donnea worry, I’ll keep it in mind.”

Webby removed herself from his lap, sitting back into her own chair, seeming pensive.

“What is the matter, Webby-dear?”

“Can I…ok you don’t have to answer but…you won’t leave your whole fortune just to me, will you?” her voice reached a sharp, almost angry note, “Because, first of, that whole molecule talk I just had? Yeah, I’d be offended if you changed it just because of that! And, secondly, the boys are like my brothers, and Donald and Della are important too, so you don’t get to take it away from them!” she said, looking at him, confrontational, her eyes gleaming.

Scrooge chuckled, “I think you might be one of the very few people in the world to learn you carry my DNA only to not want my entire fortune right after. I admit, I’m an old coward, so I’m glad you brought it up first. No, I haven’t changed the will much, and you were in it for a while, if I might add.”

Webby’s eyes glistened, tears threatening to spill out, “Really?”

“Really, for around two and a half years. Another thing I probably should have made clear a long time ago,” he said, and she wiped tears of happiness again. Scrooge frowned, “Wait, are the lads bothering you about it?”

“No, no, nothing like that! Well, Louie joked about it, but he stopped. And he was just joking! I just wanted to make sure. It wouldn’t feel fair.”

“Nah, it wouldn’t. It’s nice you are looking out for them.”

“As I said multiple times, you don’t mess with my family. Even if you are yourself, my family. And cutting someone from the will is something I consider messing with my family!” she looked at him dangerously.

“Don’t worry, lass,” he smiled, “no need to threaten me. Although, I do admit now I wouldn’t change the will even if I wanted to.”

“See, it works!” she grinned widely, pleased with herself.

“It doesn’t have to work. At no point have I removed anyone I cared for from me will. Even when Donald and I haven’t spoken for 10 years, he was in it,”

“Oh,” she breathed, surprised, “Have you told him that?”

“No,” Scrooge said sadly.

“Maybe you should.”

“Maybe. Those years…they are still a sore topic between me and him,” he said forlornly.

“Sorry I kind of brought it up,”

“Don’t apologize, you were looking up for the boys, I’m the one who brought Donald up. I will talk to him as well, I promise. Now,” he shook the sadness off, “I said I haven’t made many changes to the will. That was a half-truth. I made two additions to it recently,” he said and Webby’s eyes lit up.

“May and June?”

“Aye,” he nodded,  “they are family now, genetically yes, but they are also Donald’s daughters.”

Webby frowned, “Does it…does it make me a hypocrite that I just want to be appreciated for who I am beyond my DNA, and I only latched on to them at first because of theirs? Because they are my biological sisters?”

Scrooge smiled, “If someone came to you now and said, Oi, we were wrong! They are not your genetic sisters, they are just some random kids who look oddly similar to you, would how you feel towards them change?”

“No! Of course not! They are my sisters now and nothing is going to change that! Once I make you my family, I don’t let you go! Unless you want me to, of course!”

“See! Listen, why we care about people, how those bonds start, there are no rules to it. Some people we are connected to because they are our relatives, that is only natural. Even if we find out about the blood relations later in life. Some, because you forge a bond of friendship, like you and Lena. Some through adventures, in which you find comrades, or bonds formed through battles, both literal and figurative ones. Some through romantic love. And it’s usually the combination of the factors,” he was smiling and Webby wondered how many people he had in mind while talking.

“You are close to the family you have,” Scrooge continued, “the blood family, but it’s the bonds forms that are important, not where they start. None matter more, nor are they less valuable because of how they start. What matters is what they become. You were a McDuck long before the truth was found out. And all three of you would still be if this all turned out to be some kind of farse. I’m so, so sorry I didn’t make that clear enough before.”

Webby smiled and then hugged him again. He held her close. “Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome, Webbigail. This all weighed you for quite a while?”

“Ever since we came back from Alexandria,” she said, “but I feel better now. I still have to speak to granny but,” she sighed, “I have even more conflicted feeling there. I’m trying to understand her, and I love her but…” she stopped, clenching her fists, turning her head away, a frown, almost a scowl on her face.

Scrooge gently put a hand under her chin, turning her face towards himself, “I won’t say not to be angry at her,” he said softly, “I’ve no right to tell you how to feel. And you have every reason to feel big feelings about this because it is a big deal. But I will ask not to judge Bentina too harshly.”

“Are you not angry at her,” Webby asked, her voice growing harsher again, “I mean, she lied to you as well. I was your daughter growing up in your manor this whole time! If I were you, I would be- I would be livid!”

“I am. Or rather I was. But then, I realized she is not the only one to blame. When she discovered you, I was not the man I am now. I’m not proud of the person I became back then. I can’t know how I would react If I learned of who you were. I’m sorry to say that my reaction might not have been a favourable one. I’m the one who, invertedly as it may have been, have put your grandmother into the situation she was in. She came to my doorstep, trusting me to keep both of you safe, only to meet the broken, cold husk of a man I became. She considered me a trusted ally, but I can hardly say I was a friend to her, to anyone, back then. Were I more open, have I not allowed the darkness and pain, my own feelings of guilt, to bring me down, maybe things could have been different. And I am sorry for that. I’m sorry I wasn’t the dad you deserve, nor the friend your granny needed.”

Webby relaxed, smiled, seeming sad but relieved, “It’s ok. You lost someone important to you. I know how it feels,” her hand unconsciously touched her friendship bracelet, “And you didn’t know. You might not have been my dad, but you are my Uncle Scrooge. I don’t value that any less. And granny…she is my granny, she will always be. Hearing her voice is what snapped me out from candelabra’s influence in the end, after all. I’m just angry at her. But I’ll talk to her too, I promise.”

“Good. She believed what she was doing was the right choice, and it broke her to hide it, I know. Even in my emotional stupor, I noticed that she was a bit more closed off than before, not towards you but others. I believed it was because she lost her daughter, and gave up her career, but I know now those weren’t the only reasons.”

“I know, she looked so lost in that interrogation room…I’m still angry she lied, but I think I can understand it. Do you think she would say the truth if you were…in a better headspace once she found me?”

“We can’t know. Maybe she would trust me with it, I like to believe she would, but maybe she would still deem the risk of the opposing forces finding out about you to be too great. You’ll have to ask her that. Webby, I’m asking you not to make the same mistakes I did, talk things through. Don’t let them fester until they blow over and make you do and say things you regret.”

Webby looked away, “I…that might have already happened…the fight her and I had today, just before you found us at the fair, I said things I shouldn’t have.”

“Nothing is lost, dear. You two will work it out, and she will understand, I promise.”

“I know, I just feel bad,” she said, “it was hard to come to talk to you, and I think it will be even harder to talk to her.”

“Aye, I know. But you are here, aren’t you? And I can see you understand what you said wrong when you two had a fight.” He said softly, then let out a short, self-deprecating chuckle, “Oh, you are already doing better than I am. Talk to your grandmother, when you feel ready for it.”

“I will, I’m planning to. I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready, or rather, it will always be scary, but I think I know what I want to say now and how to say it. But maybe not tonight. Or at least not before dinner, I’m really hungry by now.”

“Good. Now, come along, we delayed dinner long enough! It must be ready by now!”

“Um, we bought dinner at Hamburger Hippo, remember?”

“Yes, but let me pretend we didn’t, restaurant food twice in less than a year! I’ll go bankrupt!”

Webby looked unamused, “Right… and I thought we deserved a bit of spoilin’!”

“Oi, imitating me, when did that start happening!”

“I’m just saying…or does that teabag count as enough spoiling already?”

“Good grief, Goldie’s right! You kids really are turning into teenagers!”

“Nope, I just discovered my sarcastic side through hanging out with Louie, Lena, and more recently, Gosalyn! Oh, and Goldie and I will be training together soon, so some more is bound to rub off!”

“Curse me kilts, I’m doomed!” Scrooge chuckled.

“Nope! I mostly plan to remain like I am now! But really, one teabag?”

Scrooge gently pushed her out of the room, “Go have dinner already! And no questionin’ my spendin’ habits!”

......

The dinner has passed in a genial if a bit hectic, atmosphere. But the chaos was to be expected. With Della, Gyro, the kids, and Goldie at the same table, Launchpad dragging himself over from the garage, and Beakley too tired and unbothered to even attempt to calm the situation down, it was a miracle the table was still whole after they ate.

Scrooge was glad to see Della and Gyro being friends again, even if, to an uninformed observer, their constant bickering might prove otherwise. Gyro gloated over having won in some videographical game or another and Della was willing to throw hands-an an unwise decision since her hand was bandaged and Gyro’s arm in a sling. They ended up having a slap-fight for a few seconds before both winced in pain and decided to be content with glaring at each other. But he knew they made up even before he heard the story of what happened in his city.

Finally, it was time to start moving to their rooms.

“Ugh, how do you do this every night?” Goldie asked, slumping into his chair.

“Family dinners?”

“Yes, too many people, too much hassle…” she grunted but without any real bite to it.

“Oh, you enjoyed it!”

“I enjoyed teasing your niece, that’s what I enjoyed!”

“You and Gyro both,” Scrooge chuckled, “But keep in mind you enjoyed it…while at the family dinner,” he said smugly only to be hit in the face with a pillow.

“Ok two questions,” Goldie said, “First of, you were looking at Della and the nerd like a proud parent at their recently reconciled children, why?”

“Ah, yes, those two have barely spoken in a year and a half. The Spear of Selene, you know,” he said, his voice growing distant, “Gyro avoided Della and her approach to him was, as you might assume, less than elegant. It’s only natural for our family that they make up while under the pressure of a robot apocalypse caused by Mark Beaks. I’m just happy to see them being friends again.”

“Friends usually look less like they want to murder each other, but who am I to judge. Question two, her and the Moonlander…?”

 Scrooge shrugged, “Friends, roommates. Fully platonic, as far as we know. They are incredibly close, though.”

“Fully platonic my ass. Be careful Sourdough, between Donald and that girl of his and these two, you might have two weddings to plan in the near future!”

“I’m not paying for them!” he huffed, leaning on the console table.

“Uh-huh!” She approached him, playing with his collar, “Scroogie, I know you too well for you to lie to me!”

“Well, I’ll have you know, I’m not paying a single dime! They can afford their weddings themselves!”

“Well, I’ll have you know, I’m not paying a single dime! They can afford their weddings themselves!” she said in unison with him, imitating his accent. He removed her hands from his collar, feigning anger but still frustrated.

For a few moments, he stood with his hands crossed, refusing to look at her as she stared at him pointedly.

Finally, he slumped, bowing his head in defeat, “Fine, you know me too well,” he looked at her, a mix of frustration and warmth in his eyes.

“I thought you pride yourself on being the man of the family,” Goldie said, knowing that his little spat was more about not wanting to admit she was correct than about not wanting to ruin the reputation of being a cheapskate even when the family is in question.

“I do,” he admitted, closing the small distance he formed between them, “And, yer right, I don’t mind spendin’ a fortune on their happiness when It matters. Besides, that’s the least I owe them, both of them.”

“Oh, I’m right,” she batted her eyelashes as she put her arms around his neck, “I like hearing that!”

“Oh, stop it you vexatious vixen, you know I care for them and you’re using it!”

Her lips quirked into a smirk, but there was fondness to it, “It’s easy, you’re sappier than a maple tree in the spring.”

“Yet you are still here with said old sap!” he said, his hands wrapping around her waist and kissing her softly.

“Someone has to balance you out,” she said, returning the kiss. “All that sugary softness you think you hide so well but in fact are failing miserably!”

“Oh, and you will be the one to balance it out? Refresh my memory, who was the one kindly talking to Webby on the plane today?” He leaned his forehead against hers, gazing into her eyes.

“Hey, don’t dare call me an old sap!” she slapped him lightly on the shoulder.

“Your words, not mine, dear,” Scrooge said, quirking his head and looking at her fondly, and she frowned at him.

“Shut up,” she said, breaking the embrace and playfully pushing him away.

He kept hold of her hand lightly, “Yer not denying it,” he said, looking at her over his glasses.

She rolled her eyes and pulled her hand free, but otherwise ignored him, turning her attention to her ruined clothes instead, “Well, I left all my clothes on the plane, and I’m not sleeping in this!” She took off the blood-stained, pink blouse she still wore and tossed it straight into the rubbish bin.

“Wasteful,” Scrooge said, turning to her, reddening in his face as he saw her in only her underwear as she took her pants off as well.

“What, it is beyond repair, it’s only good for an incinerator. I guess this will have to do for the night,” she said, pointing to what she was wearing.

“Or not,” Scrooge said, moving towards her.

“Well now…,” Goldie said, looking at him suggestively, “if the kids are asleep…I’m not in too bad of a shape…”

“What? No!” Scrooge huffed, passing her by, much to her annoyance. “That is not what I meant!” he walked over to the dresser and pulled out something from it.

“I’m not putting on your old pajamas! You probably keep yours since the 1890s!”

“It’s not mine! And yer not sleeping here in your undergarments!”

“What, you want me to cover myself up! What are these? The 1950s? Don’t act like a prude!”

“There are five children in this house!”

“And what, they will pop in? Oh wait,” she pinched her forehead, “let me guess, they are known for doing that?”

“They are Della’s kids,” Scrooge pointed out, looking at her over his shoulder.

“Ugh, don’t remind me. That time in ‘95 was a close one!”

“Way too close!” Scrooge shivered.

“Almost gave the poor girl trauma for life!” Goldie snickered remembering how she and Scrooge had only moments to disentangle themselves from a rather compromising position as they heard Della excitedly dashing towards the door.

“It’s nae funny!” Scrooge said indignantly, “so here,” he tossed the clothes at her, “we want to avoid any future incidents!”

“And your daughter is in the manor no less, so fine, I’ll play nic-“ Goldie was cut off as the clothes hit her in the face, “I told you I’m not wearing your old, worn-out rags! Go ask Della if she has- hey this is mine!” she frowned as she unfolded the garment, realizing it’s a sleeping gown.

“You left it here at some point!” Scrooge shrugged, as took a pyjama from the dresser for himself

“And what, you’ve just kept it here as a souvenir? Well, that is not weird at all! How much of my clothes do you have in here?”

Scrooge shrugged, walking into the bathroom with his own pyjamas thrown over his hand, “How much clothes have you left?”

“You, crazy old man,” Goldie still stared at her old nightgown incredulously. Someone might find it creepy, but the two of them had something that went beyond any typical relationship. Besides, this was no different than a university student having his girlfriend’s stuff lying around for when she slept over. The only difference being, Goldie usually visited once every few years, not once a week.

“Will you get dressed already before someone bursts in here!” Scrooge grunted as he was changing in the bathroom.

“I’m decent enough!” she said, “I’m not naked!”

“Ok, let me rephrase that. Get dressed before Bentina walks in and starts assuming and lecturing!”

“Ugh, I want to know was she always such a prig or is she just acting!” Goldie put her gown on, “there, happy!”

Scrooge got back into the room, putting his glasses on the nightstand, “Exuberant, dear.”

“Oi, I’ll get offended!”

“You still look gorgeous,” he said.

“Even like this, bandaged up, covered in dirt? Wearing the gown that no longer fits properly?” she approached him and pulled him close, “Maybe we should have cleaned ourselves before we put on our night clothes,” she noted. Not only were there layers of grime from day and night they spend in the forest, including some blood, but there were traces of whatever that black alchemist powder was on both of their feathers.

“Perhaps,” he leaned against her, “probably shouldn’t get a shower, considering our injuries.”

“You’re no fun,” Goldie said.

“What? Do you want to be the one to explain to Bentina how we got our injuries wet and how we popped stitches?”

“Oh, you were planning one of those showers… hmm, pity, would be fun!”

“Kids are still in the house!" he huffed, red in his face.

“Fine, you old stuffed shirt!”

“Stuffed shirt?” He pulled her closer with more force, going for a deeper kiss. She returned in kind, dragging her hands down his back. One of his hands held a tight grip on her waist, the other traveling upward, his fingers getting tangled in her hair. As he kissed her neck, she leaned her head back and hooked one of her legs around his.

This proved to be a mistake because his injured leg gave up under the sudden shift of weight and, with a painful grunt, he stumbled, dragging her with him. She managed to pull him towards the bed so they landed on the soft mattress instead of the hard wooden floor

“Ow!” she yelped as she landed, with Scrooge on top of her, a bolt of pain passing through her side.

“Ugh,” scrooge grunted, “Sorry,” he let go of her, crawling off her.

“I thought you wanted to prove you’re not a prude, not that you are as stable as a house of cards!” she teased.

“You’re the one who hooked up my leg!”

“Oh, so it wasn’t my feminine charms making you pass put,” she turned to him, playing with his whiskers.

“Shut up!” he said.

“Make me,” she narrowed her eyes at him expecting him to go for a kiss immediately.

“Now, before we continue, are you fine, I mean, you are not hurt, are you?” he asked, his eyebrows scrunched in worry.

Goldie rolled her eyes, “Oh my god! Fine, I’ll make you shut up,” she said, grabbed his shirt and pulled him close. His hands found her hips, they both dragged themselves up, so they were entirely laying on the bed. However, their kisses and touches were calmer and gentler than usually, mindful of each other’s injuries, but just as full of passion and love.

When they let go, he laid on the side of the bed closer to the wall and she laid next to him, her back turned to the door.

“So, showering,” he asked.

“Pfft, no way am I getting up now that I got comfortable,” she said.

“Well in that case- Hey!” she threw her leg over him as he started to get up, “What is the meaning of this, woman?”

“I’m not letting you go shower either!” she said, pinning one of his wrists to the mattress.

“Release me, you rugged reprobate!”

“Really, Scroogie, is that a way to speak to a lady?”

“You’re the one who is keeping me, prisoner, here!”

“If you really wanted to leave, you would have,” she said, as his attempts at getting away were half-hearted at best. She knew he was doing that to annoy her more than anything, just as she kept him semi-pinned down to annoy him. “And you are not going to leave now, are you, Scroogie? You wouldn’t leave me…”

“Well, no…” she felt him relax.

She managed to pull the blanket over them, “Not when we’re this comfortable and warm,” she pulled herself closer to him.

“You really are an incorrigible ingrate,”

“And a proud one at that,” she kissed him, gently, tenderly.

When the kiss broke, they stayed like that, her leg over his body, him holding her in his arms, their beaks almost touching.

“Maybe we could just,” Scrooge said, yawning, “stay like this, for a wee bit, get a shower after…”

“After what?” Goldie laid her head on the pillow.

“Donnea know, after…” he mumbled, already nodding off. He snuggled his head against the crook of her neck. Unable to help herself, even as the sappiness of it annoyed her, she planted a kiss on the top of his head. He melted completely, his breathing growing slower, more relaxed.

“Good night, m'eudail,” there was that expression again.

She smiled, despite herself, and, resting her beak at the top of scrooge’s head as they lay entangled, she relaxed, allowing sleep to take her, “Good night, darling.”

Chapter Text

Webby was in the loft of her room. She changed into her pyjamas and stuffed her sleeping bag, a few pillows, and a blanket into a box. Then she started looking for the Drawingnary. She was certain they last played it in her room and since the triplets were organizing the sleepover in their room and B.O.Y.D. very much enjoyed the game, she decided to bring it over. If only she could find it.

There was a knock at the door, “Webby, can I come in?” her grandma asked.

“Of course! I’m in the loft” Webby said, looking under her bed “A-HA! There it is!” she crawled under, and pulled the box out. “You are not escaping me!”

“Preparing for the night?” Beakley asked, pulling herself through the loft’s trapdoor.

“Yeah! It will be weird to have a sleepover without Violet and Lena, but I’m sure it will be fun. Especially since this really was a long day, so many things happened,” She turned to face Beakley but just as she saw her grandmother the storm of feelings from the past weeks, as a storm that reached its peak at the fair was now stirring again.

The inner corners of Webby’s eyebrows angled up, and she felt the tears stinging in her eyes. The girl’s lower lip trembled, and her face flushed with the wave of emotions.

Webby took a few steps to her grandmother, reaching for her and, before she even closed the distance fully, Bentina embraced her tightly. The girl sobbed into her shirt, her small figure shaking.

“I’m sorry about what I said at the fair,” she said between her whimpers.

Bentina rubbed circles on her back, “No, no, Webby, you have nothing to apologize for.”

“But I know I hurt you, my words hurt you!”

“They stung, yes,” Beakley said and Webby burst into another bout of sobs, “but you were hurting first. I’m so, sorry Webby.”

“No, I shouldn’t have lashed out or jumped to conclusions like that,” Webby broke the embrace slightly, wiping the tears with the heel of her palm, “I shouldn’t have mistrusted you.”

Beakley smiled sadly and crouched down so she was on Webby’s level “I’m the one who broke that trust,” she caressed Webby’s hair, “I can’t blame you for acting on experience.”

“I’m not talking about thinking you knew more about Goldie being there. I’m sorry I said mum, erm, your daughter and her husband weren’t real. I should have known that you would have never lied about my…Well, not parents. I mean, about their existence. They may not have been ma mum and dad but….you wouldn’t lie….ugh…” she sighed, trailing off, her sobs subsiding. She stared at the ground, a bitter mix of anger, resentment, and pain on her face.

“But I did,” Beakley admitted.

Webby’s face contorted slightly more, her eyes burning. She broke from the embrace, her small body growing stiff, “For 13 years! Granny, I don’t want to be angry but…”

“You have every right to be,” Bentina said, her voice sad, yet warm and understanding.

“But I know you did it for me, for my safety, to protect me. S-so I feel like I should say that it’s ok and that it was justified and move on! That because you had that go-good reason that I can’t feel bad about it and I feel guilty, Li-like I’m attacking you even if it’s just my thoughts but…. But you lied! About everything, about who I was, where I came from, about my parents about who you were! And,” she paused, wiping the tears off, “And you weren’t even one to tell me the truth in the end! I found out on F.O.W.L. computer while sneaking around their compound!!”

“And when I had the chance to tell you, I doubled down…” Beakley said quietly, ashamed.

“Yeah, you did! I’m angry. And hurt. And furious. And I feel…be-betrayed,” her voice broke, “And I don’t want to be, and I feel guilty that I am, but I know I shouldn’t because…you hurt me. A lot. I know you didn’t want to. I know you don’t think that…but when you said that May and June were just evil F.O.W.L. creations and that I was just like them…”

Beakley closed her eyes, trying to chase away the tears of shame, the guilt heavy in her gut.  She didn’t say anything, no apology was enough. Instead, she instinctively reached for Webby. Her hand lingered slightly above Webby’s shoulder, the old agent almost expecting the girl to flinch away.

But she didn’t.

Instead, Webby leaned into the touch, leaning her head and resting it on top of Beakley’s hand.

“But I still love you,” Webby said, and Beakley’s eyes shot open in surprise.

“Webby…”

“And, right now, I-“ Webby’s voice broke, and she swallowed thickly. She continues, speaking carefully, a pause between every two words, “It hurts to say it, but I- there is a part of me that doesn’t trust you fully,” she said with a sob.

She took a few broken breaths and continued, hew words more confident, “But I want to, and one day I will. Because you are my granny, and I know why you did what you did. I might just need a bit of time.”

“Ok,” Beakley said, unable to hold back tears anymore. “Webby, I just want you to know. That…I know what I did wasn’t right. And it broke my heart but I’m not looking for excuses. And I’m not asking for forgiveness. I just know that I regret it. Not protecting you but not telling you the truth sooner, myself,” her hand traveled from Webby’s shoulder to her face, wiping the tear with her thumb. “You will always be my granddaughter, my Webbigail, my amazing little girl, but if I’m not-“

“NO! Don't you dare say it! You are!” Webby cut her off, taking her hand between both of hers and squeezing it tightly, “I might be hurt and angry and everything, but you are my granny. Because I know that you had…imperfect methods, but good intentions. And I don’t know what I would do was I in your place. I’m not sure if there was a right decision or a choice back then. Just a... bunch of difficult ones that could have all gone horribly wrong.”

Beakley pulled her into another hug, “I’m so sorry. You are so full of understanding, that I’m not sure I deserve.”

“What? Of course you do! You gave everything for me. Your career, you risked your life for me and I wasn’t even yours! I mean I was just some baby in a giant test tube in F.O.W.L. lab! You gave me a family. I am who I am because of you.”

“And you gave me mine back,” Beakley said, pressing a soft kiss into her granddaughter’s hair, gently picking her up and sating them both on Webby’s bed. She rubbed circles on Webby’s back as the girl let out soft sobs. However, these were not tears of sadness but of relief and lightheartedness.

“She was real, wasn’t she?” Webby asked after they sat like that for a minute, “They were real, your daughter and her husband.”

“Yes, they were,” Beakley smiled.

“I’m sorry I questioned that, that they existed, that you had a family before me.”

“It’s only natural you are questioning everything now,” Beakley said, “That is on me.”

“Still, it must have hurt to hear me…say she wasn’t real. You lost them; I know that. I don’t know how but, I’m sorry.”

“It goes without saying, dear, but I forgive you. It’s an old wound,” Beakley said. “The type that never heals fully but eventually the pain fades into the background. What I told you that day, part of it was the truth. My daughter, Joan, truly was an artist. And my son-in-law, he was a librarian.”

“So, wait? It was their real picture, the one you gave me?” Webby asked her face a picture of surprise and awe, mixed with the tiniest bit of horror.

“Yes, those truly are them. You carry their actual surname, too,” Beakley said as Webby jumped off the bed. “Webby?”

“Give me a second,” Webby said, climbing down the loft ladder. Beakley followed her. As she put her feet on the floor, she noticed Webby taking something from one of the many files lying around the room and pinning it to her family board.

Webby pinned the photo of two ducks on the board and connected them to Beakley. She added a tiny black ribbon next to them.

“I took the picture off when I realized the truth. Didn’t think much of it. I thought they were just some... a random couple to be placeholders for my family. But I was wrong...” Webby’s voice was sheepish, apologetic.

Beakley quietly approached Webby, her heart heavy and uplifted at the same time, tears quietly spilling from her eyes. She put a hand on the girl’s shoulder, and Webby reached for it, squeezing it tightly. The girl leaned on her grandmother and Beakley wrapped her other arm around her, holding her close.

“They may not have been my parents and I may not have known them, but they are your family. And you are my family, so they are mine as well. I wish I could have known them.”

Bentina released her granddaughter’s hand and reached for the photo, gently running her fingers over it, “I wish so too, dear. They would've loved you. I missed so much of their lives. Not everything, but I wasn’t around nearly enough. And then they were gone, and I went on that final mission. And I saw you and…”

“Everything changed. You wanted to care for me, even as you were hurting,” Webby said, her heart warm.

“Yes. I couldn’t have left you there. I regret the words I directed towards May and June when we first found them, it was a knee-jerk reaction on my part. I never truly meant it, I knew deep down they were innocent, just like you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok, apology accepted,” Webby said. She knew her grandma apologized to May and June as well. In the days after Alexandria. Those blissful days when everything was still glowing in post-battle ecstasy, Beakley did everything to prove to the girls she didn’t mean those words, possibly even overcompensating a bit, being a bit laxer towards them than she ever was to Webby and especially the boys. The hurt was still there, but she was slowly becoming a grandma figure to May and June as much as she was to the rest of the children.

“Everything that happened that day…it was falling apart, everything I built for you, and I feared the truth coming out. The truth I’m not even sure I should have kept from you when I look back. But you had to be safe not only from F.O.W.L. but also from S.H.U.S.H.”

Webby got out of the embrace, turning around to face Beakley, looking up at her curiously, “From S.H.U.S.H. You mean, people who would see us as evil F.O.W.L. creations but, for real. Who would never realize they were wrong?”

“Yes. That is another reason I knew I had to keep you here, I knew the truth, Von Drake did and two more agents who are now no longer with us. That’s it. But we had to keep it from getting into the wrong hands.”

“I get it. People like Gabriel?”

“Gabriel is inflexible, not very understanding, but relatively harmless. I doubt he would harm a child, no matter where they come from. People worse than him.”

Webby nodded, “It must have been heard, keeping the truth from everyone. Me, Duckworth, Uncle Scrooge…”

“It was, especially ever since Donald and the boys moved back in. But then telling the truth became harder, something I should have done. I can’t change that, but I can try to make up for it.”

“You don’t need to make up for anything,” Webby said, “Not to me at least. I forgive you, for everything. I might need a bit more time to fully move on, but I do forgive you.”

Beakley felt her eyes welling up with tears again, “Thank you.”

“Did you talk to Uncle Scrooge?” Webby asked.

“Yes and no. We haven’t talked things out, not like the two of us did. But we spoke shortly after the meeting with S.H.U.S.H. and, it is silent, but we know each other well enough to know that the tensions are gone now. Silent understanding. And you?”

“We talked it out. I don’t want things to change much. They will, I know that. He is my dad, but he was Uncle Scrooge first. Thing is, I thought I struggled with change. That I was rejecting it. But instead, I was forcing it to happen. Of course, things are different now, but not wildly different. I tried to force things to change in such a large scare, I felt like they should because he is my dad now and that I should immediately start calling him that and seeing him like that, like Lena and Vi see Ty and Indy, but I can’t. And I don’t have to, because what we have now is great. I was trying to force change on something that is working. I’m accepting the change that came, I’m a McDuck, but I’m still me.”

“I see him slightly differently. I see you,” she said with some hesitation, “slightly differently. And myself too. I thought it must change a whole bunch, or not at all. That I should just accept the change that happened but act no differently. But I can’t. It’s a bit of both. And a bit of neither. It’s complicated, but I’m getting there. And I’ll learn to understand all of it further. It doesn’t make much sense but that is fine. It will make sense one day. I will make sense of it.”

Bentina crouched in front of her granddaughter again, “You are incredibly mature dear, more introspective than I’ve been at your age that is for sure. And if it feels right, it is the right decision for you. I’m proud of you!”

Webby yawned, “I think I should really get to that sleepover at the boy’s room. I’m really tired.”

“Do you need help?”

“No, but you can come with me if you’d like. I’d like it.”

“Ok.”

They took Webby’s sleepover boxes and walked up to the boys’ room. Before she entered the room to have a nice evening with her friends webby turned around and hugged her grandma tightly one last time that evening.

“I love you granny!”

“I love you Webbigail!”  

…..

After two days of absolute chaos, the manor was peaceful.

The children were asleep in the boys’ room. Webby joined the boys after her conversation with Beakley. They chatted and played Drawingnary for a while but fell asleep one after another. Louie was the first one to fall asleep and the only one in his bed. Everyone else slept in sleeping bags on the floor, or in B.O.Y.D.’s case, shut down in the corner closest to the outlet. He and Webby were the ones to stay awake the longest, having a surprisingly thorough conversation about the superiority of bowties vs. regular ties and button-ups over T-shirts.

Della fell asleep on the couch, leaning on Gyro, much to his annoyance. He dragged himself to the guest room, while Penumbra carried her roommate to their room. They shared Della’s bed, as Penny’s was covered with clutter that took up a large part of Della's room.

Gyro nodded off in a half-sitting position in the guest bedroom, his glasses crooked, having fallen asleep while reading. Li’l bulb removed Gyro’s glasses and settled under one of the scientist’s arms, Gyro pulling him closer.

Beakley slept in her room, three picture frames on her nightstand. One of her daughter and son-in-law, one of Webby, and one of all the children together. The former agent’s, current grandma’s mind finally at ease after over a decade.

And in the nicest room in the manor, two elderly ducks slept, embraced. Scrooge and Goldie were facing each other, her leg hooking his, his arm gently laid over her, as if the old billionaire was mindful of her injuries even when while asleep. A blanket thrown over them, they were a picture of comfort.

Little did that know that miles away in an old basement turned office, hidden from the rest of the world, a meeting was being held.

“What was that Robert?” an old goose whose eyes weren’t as kind as they were while he posed as a seller at the fair, growled. He pinned the other man to the wall and, despite being larger than him the black dog cowered.

“We….we…”

“We…we…,” the man said in a mocking tone, “you were supposed to be alone on that mountain! How did you miss out on the information that O’Gilt and McDuck are coming!”

“How was I supposed to know!” Robert spat out.

“What are you saying? Don’t you have connections? Someone who might have heard him or her bragging? And why the fuck did you leave them up there!”

“The no-kill rule-“

“Not when it comes to those two!” the old goose shouted.

“They took down my best fighters, it was run away or stay and possibly be taken down completely!” Robert said defensively.

“According to the kid over there,” the older man pointed at the young swan sitting cross-legged in a corner, “you had a shot at killing them! And when you came back you were convincing me that there is no way those two are coming back which I am a fool for having believed you! Unless McDuck is dead and buried in a sealed casket at the bottom of the sea, he will find a way to come back! Hell, you could kill the man and he’d come crawling from Hades! The same goes for O’Gilt. And you leave them up there, not even tied up!”

“It won’t happen again, sir!” Robert muttered, finally giving up on fighting his leader.

“It better not!” the old man pushed Robert against the wall one last time before letting him go, only to threaten him with a knife, “You are lucky that your father was a part of this society when we were first active and I owed him one, otherwise, you would have been done for! This was supposed to be an easy mission, go and steal that artifact.” He sighed, moving away from Robert, playing with the knife as he slumped into the desk chair in the corner. He put down the knife and lit the cigarette, taking a few clouds of smoke before setting the cigarette down.

The few members of society of Escuriada that were gathered in the office shifted uncomfortably, while Robert rubbed his shoulders where the old goose grabbed him while pinning him to the wall. The only two seemingly unaffected by the tense atmosphere were the boy, who sat in a corner seemingly disinterested, and a woman who stood right next to the desk.

Rubbing his temples, he sighed, “However, I am able to admit my own fault. When I saw the McDuck brats at the fair, I couldn’t believe it. And once I realized 22 was there, I admit, I let my pride take over. I wanted revenge. Imagine, 22 herself, the reason for our former downfall under our complete control! And maybe I would have had it! But no, you had to leave two strongest most experienced adventurers in the world alone with minor injuries so they can follow you, find her, and warn her! Without that warning, she would have been vulnerable! She was struggling, those kids were struggling, even when prepared. If we attacked while she was none the wiser, WE MIGHT HAVE HAD THE WORLD NOW!” he banged his fist against the table making everyone in the room, except for the boy and the woman, jump.

She was a tall dove, with long black hair and dark eyes. She seemed to be in her late 40s and wore a long, red dress that gave her a more elegant look than anyone else in the room, “What will we do now?” the woman asked, sounding almost bored.

“Now, we have to plan everything again. I am not waiting for 27 years. We either find some other object or find the way to break in there….”

“You know we could always…” the woman suggested, taking his box of cigarettes.

“No!” the old goose cut her off immediately, “No. That is our last resort!”

“Fine, suit yourself,”  she lit the cigarette and threw the box into his chest.

“We will find another way,” he retorted.

“All due respect, sir, but she might have a point,” the boy spoke from the corner. “The last resort might be our only solution.”

“See, the youngest one here is the only one with a brain,” the woman said.

The young swan shrugged, “Even with all of the Escuriada’s knowledge at our disposal, we can’t find a spell strong enough to break the protection spell on those doors,” he concluded.

“No, no we do not,” the man huffed. He sighed, leaning in his chair behind his desk. He took the newspaper from the desk and browsed through it, more out of habit than anything else.

Chaos in Duckburg, it said on one page.

Well, what is new, he thought next you’re going to tell me that cars run on gas and the water is wet.

However, something drew his attention to the article. He looked at the picture next to the civilians’ confessions. Gizmoduck fighting a swarm of robots, and a young girl, enveloped in a blue glow, next to him.

“Hey, anyone knows anything about this?” He turned the papers to the rest of the people in the room, and everyone shook their heads.

“Not sure,” one of his henchmen, looking over his shoulder said, “It’s Duckburg, flying children are probably common there.”

“She has magic….” Robert noted.

“No shit she has magic,” the henchmen shot back, “I’m just saying it’s normal for Duckburg.”

“Yeah, but look, the article says that the young sorceress is known ally if McDuck!” Robert pointed to the article angrily.

“Pity,” the old man said, “she could be a useful asset. Although, this gives me an idea. There is someone else, a sorceress who is used to working in shadows, like us…”

“You don’t mean…?” the kid finally looked up from the corner, his eyes filled with shock.

“Yes, yes I do. I want revenge on 22. And the sorceress of shadow wants revenge on her boss. It’s a natural allyship. But still, we will need something to convince her, we need to find something only we can offer…”

“Word is, she is looking around the underground for an expert on transfiguration and locations spell.” the woman said, smiling deviously, “I might poke a bit, hear what exactly she is after…”

“Do you have anything in your collection that might help us?” the leader asked her.

“Possibly, I need to know what she needs first. I might be able to make whatever it is if we lack it. Or we might procure it by other means.”

“Well then,” the old man said, “whatever she needs, she allowed the word of her search to slip. That means she must be growing desperate. I can work with desperate. Well then!” he got up from his chair, seeming much more pleased.

“Duchess,” he spoke to the woman, “you ask around. Find out if any of your contacts know anything about De Spell’s search. And if you find out what she needs, see if you have it in that big castle of yours.”

The woman nodded and walked out of the room.

“The rest of you, come along,” he walked to the bottom of the room and opened the door there, leading the group into a musty library, “We better get cracking at those books, just in case. One does not become a transfiguration expert overnight. But once we do, we will have something to offer to one of the most powerful women in the world…”

….

The first thing Scrooge felt as he started to wake was the sun on his face. He blinked his eyes open, yawning. He was tired and were he less stubborn, he would probably turn around and fall asleep again. But scrooge McDuck didn’t believe in laying around doing nothing.

In addition to that, his leg hurt something fierce. Far from unbearable, but enough to jolt his memory. The events of the previous days came to him, the trek through the woods, the fight, the night in the cave, the fair, Goldie staying the night…

He hopefully reached for the other side of the mattress, but only found a discarded blanket. He sighed, trying to not let the disappointment set in. This was to be expected after all. It was Goldie, and he shouldn’t expect her to change her ways. Especially not after everything she had already done for them for the last two days.

Still, it was hard to ignore the sting of old pain, that he felt whenever Goldie would leave, as he sat up, and stretched cracking his painful joints and cursing his old bones. It was fine, that was their dynamic, he tried to tell himself. Besides, things were already so becoming much more…familial between them, he shouldn’t expect another large change so quickly.

And that’s when he saw her.

Goldie sat on the window seat, staring through the window, her hair loose, messy golden locks spilling over her shoulders. She wore his robe over her nightgown and rested a steaming mug on her knee.

She hadn’t stayed after Foreverglades.

She hadn’t stayed after Alexandria.

Yet there she was, her feathers still peppered with scratches and dirt from the previous night, bathed in the morning light, the most beautiful sight Scrooge has ever seen. He knew he was staring at her like a lovesick teenager but found he didn’t care.

She turned her head from the window, noticing him awake, “I found the mug and coffee in your office, decided to serve myself some,” she said, getting up and walking back over to the bed. She placed the mug on the nightstand and sat down, “You should really keep better security in that room. Next time I might be after e bit more than just coffee. I usually take more than coffee.”

“You stayed,” Scrooge stated the obvious, still in disbelief. How long has she been awake if she managed to rummage through my office and make herself a drink?

Goldie didn’t answer immediately, looking at the opened window, “Strange times indeed, aren’t these Scroogie?” she said eventually, turning her attention back at him, smiling.

“Aye, they are.”

“Well, look at us, where are our manners,” she joked, gently caressing his uninjured cheek, “Good morning, Sourdough.”

“Good morning, Goldie,” he said and pulled her in for a tender kiss. 

They fell to the mattress, mindful of each other’s injuries, content to just lay there, enjoying the other’s company.

For once, Goldie didn’t feel the overwhelming urge to leave.

And Scrooge decided that, just this once, sleeping in may not be such a terrible practice.