A/N: I have no idea where this idea came from. I just woke up yesterday and there it was. I liked the idea a lot, listening to the soundtrack from the movie Rio on repeat put me in the mood to expand the idea a little more, and here we are. Usually I would wait to post a multi-chapter story until after I had two or three chapters completed, but I really feel like putting it up now, so that's what I'm going to do.
Sheldgoose put his hands behind his back and held his head up high as he made his rounds. As president of the New Quackmore Institute, it was his job to make sure that everything in the community was up to their high standards. One tail feather out of place on any of their residents made all of them look bad, and that was just unacceptable.
Unfortunately, one of their long standing residents had more than just a tail feather out of place. Clinton Coot probably had more strange things about him than everybody else in the New Quackmore Institute combined. If Sheldgoose could, he would have kicked the guy out years ago, but he really couldn't. Clinton Coot had lived at the New Quackmore Institute longer than many of their residents had been alive, and Sheldgoose was legally unable to kick him out. He would know, he had tried.
But that didn't mean that he had to tolerate his relatives.
Clinton Coot had always been a peculiar old duck. He spent most of his time away from his old cabana. Sheldgoose didn't know what Coot was up to when he was gone, and he didn't care, just so long as he was out of his feathers. Even when Coot was home, he usually kept to himself. His great grandchildren though were another matter.
"Come on, Donald, you can do better than that." A duckling who couldn't be older than six or seven teased in that loud and obnoxious voice that only children used. She was closely followed behind by her twin brother, who wasn't nearly as loud and energetic, but had his own irritating quirks.
"I can't, Della, you keep cheating." Donald protested, and Sheldgoose scowled at the sound of his voice. He didn't know what was wrong with the child, but his speech was all but impossible to understand, and it just grate on Sheldgoose's ears. He had no idea how long the children would be staying with Coot for, but as far as he was concerned they couldn't be gone soon enough.
Sheldgoose turned his nose up at the children and was about to continue on his way when the little girl ran right into him. The brat didn't even apologize. She just glared up at him as though it was his fault.
"Watch where you're going, mister." Della put her hands on her hips. Sheldgoose glared back at her.
"Why don't you watch where you're going, you insolent little brat." Sheldgoose's words just irritated the girl even more. She looked about ready to attack him, and Sheldgoose was not impressed. He knew that allowing Coot to have his family over for a visit was a bad idea.
Donald ran up and pulled the girl back. "It's your fault, Della, you ran into him." Della shrugged her brother's grip off.
"I wouldn't have ran into him if he hadn't come up right out of nowhere." Della insisted. She put a hand on the necklace that she was wearing and held it out as though it was a weapon. "You'll pay for this!"
"I'll pay for this?" Sheldgoose was furious. This was the final straw. "Your great grandfather will be lucky if I don't evict him for this." If only he could. But the children didn't need to know that.
Della didn't seem to take his threat seriously, and if she did, she didn't seem to care. At least her brother had more sense than she did. "Della, knock it off." Donald gave his sister a shove. "The game's over."
Game? This was all a game for Della? What kind of little girl was she?
"Fine." Della sighed reluctantly, though she still sent Sheldgoose one more spiteful glare. "You're lucky my brother is such a wimp today," She said to Sheldgoose, ignoring Donald's insulted protest. "You see this ring?" Della lifted her necklace to show it off better and Sheldgoose saw that it was indeed a ring with a chain around it. "Grandpa Coot says that it's magical. I was just about to use it, and then you would be really sorry."
"Is that so?" Sheldgoose raised an eyebrow. He didn't believe her ridiculous stories about magic, but he couldn't take his eyes off the ring. There was something really familiar about that ring. A moment later Sheldgoose realized that he recognized the emblem on the ring. It was his family's emblem. That ring belonged to his family. It was rightfully his.
Sheldgoose took a deep breath and forced a smile on his face. "I'll tell you what. If you give me that ring, I'll forget about evicting your great grandfather." For now.
"Forget about it." Della said as she drew her necklace back protectively.
"Deal." Donald said at the same time. While his sister wasn't looking he grabbed her necklace, slipped it back over her head, and held it out to Sheldgoose, who snatched it away before either of the children could think twice.
"Pleasure doing business with you." Sheldgoose's voice was dripping with with sly insincerity, but he didn't care. He wasn't there to make friends with the children. His rounds were done, he had his family's heirloom in his possession, he was ready to go home.
As Sheldgoose made his way to the front door of the mansion, he took the chain off his new ring and slipped it on his finger.
Little did he know what insanity this simple act would bring to his life.
"It's not fair." Della stomped her foot and crossed her arms. "Why am I in trouble? Donald's the one who gave away the ring."
"Yes, and from what I've heard he wouldn't have done such a thing if it weren't for your behavior." Clinton Coot crossed his arms as well and looked sternly at his great granddaughter. If he had known just how much trouble this one little girl would be he wouldn't have agreed to watch her and her brother while their Uncle Scrooge was off on another one of his treasure hunting adventures. "You weren't even supposed to have the ring in the first place, young lady, and you know it."
"Donald gets a necklace." Della pointed at her brother in frustration. "He doesn't even like jewelry."
"I'm sorry, Della, but I only have one necklace." Clinton kept his voice calm. He should have known how upset Della would be. Even if she wasn't fond of the necklace, and Clinton didn't think she was, Della was only a child. Of course she would be upset that her brother was given a gift and she wasn't. Clinton just didn't know how to explain to Della that he hadn't given Donald a gift, he had simply given him something that rightfully belonged to him.
"No, you have three of them." Della said. What about the red and green ones?"
"I'm afraid those aren't mine." Clinton knelt down and put a hand on Della's shoulder. "I'm just holding them for a friend." Just as he had been holding onto Donald's necklace. When Donald and Della returned to their Uncle's manor, Clinton would take back the necklace and hold it for him until he was old enough to take up his ancestors mantel. If it weren't for the protective barrier around the cabana, Clinton wouldn't risk giving Donald his necklace. The amulets that belonged to the original caballeros needed to be kept safe.
Clinton had taken a major risk when he had taken the necklaces away from their resting place on the island of Crete. He believed it was a risk worth taking, as Donald and his fellow caballeros would need the necklaces when they were old enough to handle the responsibility. Clinton needed to keep the necklaces safe for them until that time.
"Della, I promise you, I will find something here for you to have." Clinton said to calm her. "But even if I don't, you can't just take things that aren't yours. I told you that ring was dangerous, but you took it anyways, and now it's gone."
"That wasn't my fault!" Della shouted as she ran off behind one of the bookcases. Clinton was sure that if he had bedrooms she would have stormed off into one of them and slammed the door behind her. As it was, the best that she could do was pout, and Clinton let her.
Clinton sighed, stood up, and rubbed his forehead. It was absolutely exhausting to deal with these children. When Della wasn't running around causing trouble and looking for treasure around the New Quackmore Institute, Donald was breaking things because of his clumsiness, or having a temper tantrum. The two children were a handful, and he would only have them for a couple of days. He couldn't imagine how the children's parents and Scrooge handled them for long periods of time.
"If I can make it through this weekend without that girl hating me, it will be a miracle." Clinton muttered under his breath, but Donald heard him anyways.
"Della thinks she hates a lot of people." Donald said. "She always changes her mind in a few minutes." Well, that was reassuring. Clinton wondered if all seven year olds were as passionate with their emotions as Donald and Della were, or if it was just them. Donald looked up at Clinton with worry in his eyes. "Is the ring really dangerous?"
In the wrong hands it very well could be, and Clinton was almost positive that Sheldgoose was the very wrong hands that he had been concerned about. Donald and Della didn't need to know this though, they were just children. They shouldn't have to know about the dangers their family faced. Not yet.
"No," Clinton lied. "It's just a ring." He would still have to do his best to get it back before anything happened, but as far as Donald needed to know, it was nothing more than a simple ring. Clinton himself didn't even know if the ring was actually dangerous, he just suspected it was. He might be wrong though, and if he was then they had absolutely nothing to worry about.
How nice it would be if that were the case. Then, Clinton's only concern would be about getting back on Della's good side again. Fortunately, it wasn't all that hard to do. Clinton wasn't an expert in small children, but he knew that they were much more likely to forgive minor mistakes if they were bribed.
"Did you and your sister still want to camp outside?" Clinton asked Donald, though he raised his voice to be sure that Della heard him. Sure enough, no sooner had Clinton's words left his mouth did Della poke her head out from behind the bookcase she had hidden behind.
"Will there be marshmallows?" Della asked, of course focusing on the most important thing about camping for a seven year old.
"Of course there will be marshmallows." Clinton faked shock. "What kind of sleepover campout would it be without marshmallows?" Della smiled and ran out from behind the bookcase.
"And we'll be able to sleep outside, in sleeping bags and everything?" Della asked loudly. Donald also looked excited. Clinton laughed at their enthusiasm. How was it possible that one second these children made him feel fifty years older, and the next they made him feel young again? It was just part of the anomaly that was small children.
"Of course." Clinton chuckled. "I'm sure there are sleeping bags around here...somewhere." He was ashamed to admit it, but his years of traveling and researching the original caballeros had made the cabana resemble a hoarder's shack. Whenever Clinton convinced himself that he would get around to cleaning up, he would stumble upon a new piece of information about the lives of the three caballeros, and cleaning was pushed out of his mind again.
It took the three of them nearly an hour of searching, but finally they were able to find two sleeping bags, a large blanket, about a dozen flashlights (five of which had working batteries, and a telescope for stargazing. They took their findings outside and Donald and Clinton set up their little camp while Della went to look for firewood and sticks for roasting marshmallows on. Clinton had tried to tell her that he had plenty of wood behind the cabana, and she wouldn't likely find firewood anywhere else at the New Quackmore Institute, but she was insistent, so Clinton let her go.
Besides, it gave him a chance to talk to Donald without feeling guilty about leaving her out.
"I hope that you didn't give away the amulet I gave you as well." Clinton said as evenly as he could. He didn't want to scare the boy and make him feel like he couldn't admit to doing something he shouldn't have, but the amulet was far more important than Felldrake's old ring.
"Of course not." Donald rolled his eyes and pulled the amulet out from under his shirt. Clinton breathed a sigh of relief. Donald hadn't taken it off, given it away, or misplaced it as he feared he had, he had just tucked it under his shirt. Smart boy. "Della kept on teasing me about it, so I put it out of sight." Donald didn't sound hurt by this, just annoyed. Clinton supposed he would be annoyed too if he had a twin sister who frequently coped with envy by teasing the very thing she was jealous about.
Donald looked down at the circular blue amulet and frowned slightly. "What's so important about this thing anyways?"
Clinton sighed as he tried to figure out what to say. He had already told both Donald and Della that it was a family heirloom, and they had both guessed that it was magical, but neither of them were old enough to comprehend all of it. Still, he had to say something.
"That amulet belonged to your ancestor, Don Dugo." Clinton said. "He was a great adventurer, along with his two friends."
"Are they the ones that had the other two necklaces?" Donald asked.
Clinton raised an impressed eyebrow. "Very good, Donald. And just as this amulet is rightfully yours now, the other two amulets belong to the descendents of Don Dugo's two friends."
"But what's so important about the amulets?" Donald asked, not one to let himself be distracted from his curiosity.
"Well," Clinton thought for a moment. "I believe the amulets have powers. Individually, their magic can be rather impressive. But their true strength comes when they are together." The amulets were a lot like the caballeros in that way.
"But why?" Donald asked, and Clinton couldn't help but chuckle. He had heard that children were curious, but it had been so long since he had been on the receiving end of their questions. It was rather amusing.
"The true strength of the amulets isn't their magic, but what they represent." Clinton explained. "Don Dugo and his companions were more than just friends, they were brothers. These amulets represented their bond, and it does the same thing for you."
Donald made a strange face. "What does a necklace have to do with my relationship with two people I haven't met?"
When said that way, Clinton understood why Donald didn't understand. He would though, one day.
"You'll meet them eventually." Clinton assured him. If there wasn't such a massive distance between Donald and the other two boys, maybe it would happen sooner. As it was, it would be best to wait until they were all old enough to understand their destinies. "You'll understand when you do. You may not know each other now, but when you meet you'll know, the three of you are brothers. You'll have each other's backs, no matter what."
"...okay?" Donald looked extremely confused. He likely didn't understand Clinton's words at all, and had only agreed to make him happy. Clinton didn't mind so much. Donald was still just a child. He would learn for himself, given time.
Clinton went ahead and let their conversation die down. A few minutes later Della returned, and she had, in fact, found firewood and roasting sticks. It seemed she was better at foraging for wood than he had expected.
Clinton showed Della and Donald how to arrange the firewood and start a flame. It took some time for the flames to get hot enough for what they wanted it for, but that didn't stop the children from trying to roast their marshmallows early anyways. The two of them burnt their marshmallows, but they seemed to be having fun, so Clinton let them be.
When it started to get dark out Clinton decided that it was bedtime. Della wanted to sleep in the middle of the yard, but Clinton knew that the magical barrier around the cabana only reached so far. He couldn't say for sure where the barrier started, so he decided it would be best to be safe than sorry. They could still sleep outside, but their sleeping bags had to be as close to the cabana as possible. Della wasn't happy about this, but when Clinton told her that it was either this or they were going back inside, she reluctantly agreed.
Clinton sat on the porch with the blanket and watched the children as they climbed into the sleeping bags. Della and Donald spent nearly half an hour teasing and talking with each other. They both spoke in whispered tones, as though they were trying to keep the fact that they were awake a secret. Clinton had to keep himself from laughing at this. He didn't understand how they could think that he couldn't hear them if they whispered, even when he was only a few feet away, but he found it charming.
Eventually, Della and Donald couldn't fight their exhaustion anymore and they both fell asleep. Clinton watched them sleep for a few minutes before he went inside to grab a book. Clinton read by firelight for a few hours until he began to feel rather tired himself. He put out the fire, grabbed the blanket, and made it into a makeshift sleeping bag. Clinton situated himself between Donald and Della and within just a few minutes he was fast asleep.
When Clinton woke up the next morning, he was met with a sight that shook him down to the bones. It wasn't his trashed cabana or his destroyed belongings. It wasn't even the fact that Leopold the Horrible's body was missing from its coffin. What truly upset Clinton was who else was missing when he woke up. Clinton had looked everywhere he could. He had asked all of his neighbors, and he had even called the police, but none of it did any good.
Donald was gone.