"I can't believe they threw me out of the manor," Magica fumed, folding her arms across her chest and peering through the gate at the illuminated house. Gladstone stood beside her and she shivered from more than the cold. Even from out here, she could feel the searing goodness threatening to blow away her darkness. It was an entire convention of lightsiders and it sickened her.

"I can't believe they didn't do anything sooner," Gladstone said. "You promised to be on your best behavior."

"It's your fault you believed me," she scoffed. He bent down and she facepalmed. He'd somehow found twenty dollars lying on the street. Rolling her eye, she set off along the path leading to the road. Gladstone had driven them there, seeing as Magica couldn't yet transform into her dragon form and take flight. Gladstone lived in a wealthy area of Dragonburg, just not that close to Mr. Moneybags over there. Magica could still taste the brightness in the back of her throat. How could anyone live like that? It was disgusting.

He opened the door for her and she slid into the comfortable BMW's leather seats. Naturally, he hadn't paid for the BMW. It had somehow ended up in his lap as a tax deductible. Gladstone almost never paid for anything. Luck paved the way, which could be quite annoying if looked at in the wrong light. However, luck to her was like magic and magic she understood.

"Magica, you need to chill with attacking the kid," Gladstone said as he started the car. It was a red BMW, the latest model, and a peppy sports car besides. It never needed maintenance and if it had, she was sure whatever it was would work itself out without assistance. Gladstone had a facile lifestyle, as any wrinkles or problems disappeared upon contact. She could soak in his luck and magic and feel incredibly sated.

"I didn't do anything to her. Why is everyone on my case about it?"

She buckled her seatbelt and then folded her arms across her chest. Sitting aggravated her tailbone and she remembered her amputated tail. Rage and hatred for Webby rushed through her.

Gladstone didn't move the car. He also didn't wear a seatbelt because on the rare occasion he was in a car accident, he never got hurt. He cupped her cheek in his palm and a different type of warmth coursed through her. Her heart skipped a beat.

"I'm serious. You keep this up and Unk isn't going to be lenient toward you anymore. I don't want anything to happen to you. I love you."

The last three words made her squirm. Gladstone was the only person in her life, save Poe, who had uttered them to her. Her parents hadn't. She'd certainly never said them to Lena or had them said back to her; she'd strongly discouraged Lena as a young child from saying them through carefully induced headaches. Come to think of it, it might've been a minor miracle she hadn't induced brain damage. Oh well.

After a pause that she sensed took too long, she sighed and replied, "I love you too."

For all that she clung to the darkness, she had enough light in her to love him and no one else. They still hadn't budged from the parking spot and that was her fault.

"So knock it off, okay? I want to Bond with you. Don't you want to Bond with me?"

She'd been careful about preventing any type of intimacy between them. Now, denying it would condemn her. She was wary of making herself that vulnerable. The last thing she wanted was for someone to exploit her when she was weak. Yet the way Gladstone looked at her told her he'd never do that. It was hard to fathom that someone might study her and not calculate her weaknesses.

"I do."

"Do you?" he asked and his tone had turned harsh. "Or are you only saying that because you don't want my uncle to execute you?"

Her hands shook and she stared down at her lap. "I don't want to die."

"Which is it? Do you fear death more than Bonding? Or do you genuinely want to Bond with me?" he pressed.

Both of them would be an end, both permanent. However, if she didn't take a stand soon, Gladstone might tire of her dithering and make up his mind to leave her. How long had he wanted to Bond with her? How long had she refused him? It seemed to her that it had been most of their adult lives. She'd felt connected to him ever since they were children, yet she had denied the spark between them for fear of where it might lead.

A Bond unconsummated was a life unfulfilled. It also brought the possibility of offspring into the world. Magica had no delusions about her ability to raise children. Yet the purpose of the Flight was to ensure the continuation of the dragon species. It always resulted in eggs. Always. Whether those eggs survived was another story, but she would have to lay them. She would have to be aware of the possibility that hatchlings would appear and consider her their mother. She shuddered, wary of that much attachment. Wary, too, knowing how she had treated Lena. She'd used Lena to further her agenda. Who was to say she wouldn't use her own children the same way?

Yet she couldn't vocalize any of this, not without giving the game away. Her throat was tight and she didn't trust herself to speak. Finally, aware the silence had been prolonged too long, she willed herself to speak. The only way to do so was to stare through the windshield and not make eye contact with him, so that was what she did.

"Bonding results in hatchlings, Gladstone. Can you honestly say you can imagine me as a mother? Don't lie to me and tell me I'd be adequate or better, either. You saw what happened before. I don't even have to say her name. You know."

"I can help you. I'll do whatever it takes. Don't you want to be more than an embittered dragon hellbent on revenge?"

Magica laughed harshly. "That's all I am, in case you haven't noticed."

He took her hands. "I can help you be more."

Magica fought the urge to pull back. He was light, so good, and it didn't sicken her as the others had at the McDragon Manor, but it terrified her. It terrified her that someone this good wanted anything to do with her. Moreover, it made no sense. Corrupting him, that made sense. That was something she could live with. But this? This unreasonable attachment? Light abhors the dark and dark loathes the light. They were incompatible. Couldn't he see that?

"Why? Why would you want to?"

"Because I see the beauty in you and the possibility that no one else sees. I see a hidden depth to you. You're the only thing I've actually wanted to put any effort toward in my entire life. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

She gasped and hated she had displayed vulnerability before him.

"I don't understand. Why?"

"Because you're worth it to me. Even if you don't see. Especially if you don't see it. So what do you say? Don't you want to give this a chance? I'll protect you. Besides, with my luck and your magic, what could possibly stand in our way?"

What indeed. Her lips twisted toward a faint smile. When he spoke like this, it encouraged her. It made her want to be, if not a better person, at least someone worthy of his admiration. Leaning forward and aware that her depth perception might cause her aim to be off, she leaned toward him. He corrected her before she headed for his neck and kissed her.

She kissed him back. All right. She would Bond with him. And not just to save her miserable hide, although that was a factor. If he believed in her, then she would believe in him. Also, if he Bonded with her, then she could influence him and pull him away from the light side. Gladstone was too good to be a lightsider. He belonged in the dark with her, where it was comfortable and safe.

She caressed his cheek and then grinned impishly when she pulled back. Her eye sparkled.

"Wanna give the neighbors a show?" she said in a low, throaty voice. She had forgotten, however, that she was wearing a dress. Nonetheless, she reached for the zipper and he helped her. Oh, so he did want to give the neighbors, what few there were considering the size of McDragon Manor, a show. Well, then, who was she to discourage him?

His luck would probably be such that they wouldn't be interrupted unless she wanted them to be. However, what she wanted was to have someone, like that odious Beakley, catch a glimpse of what was going on and be unable to prevent it. After all, the first consummation was the first step toward Bonding. If she interrupted it, why, she might be interfering in the private business between Magica and Scroogie. That couldn't be.

She chanced a look up at the third-floor window to spy a curtain moving and she grinned wickedly. Excellent. Everything was working out perfectly, then.

Gladstone stole her attention away and she no longer paid the slightest bit of attention to anything or anyone but him.

Though she had calmed down considerably from earlier that night, Lena was still incapable of making overtures, particularly of the romantic variety, toward Dewey and Webby. Both had assured her that there was no pressure and she should take her time. The worst part was that they were sincere and yet, all she wanted to do was sequester herself in a bedroom and hide. Another part of her rebelled against that and wanted to luxuriate in their presence. She wanted to hold and be held by them. It was probably the part of her that had been touch-starved her entire life. Growing up, aside from Webby and now Dewey, almost no one had ever laid a hand on her. Aunt Magica didn't count.

As it was, she waited outside their suites and folded her arms across her chest. She felt exposed in a nightgown and rubbed her arms. It wasn't cold in the manor, although Scrooge could be stingy when it came to heating and cooling. He didn't get and stay rich by indulging himself...or his guests, for that matter. No, the cold she felt was preternatural, inflicted from within.

"Lena?" Webby ventured. She, too, had changed into a nightgown. They'd required help to get out of their elaborate wedding dresses, although of course, Dewey didn't need much help, seeing as he'd worn a suit. Lena wished she'd thought of that, though she knew that the dressmaker would've been aghast at a girl wearing a tuxedo.

Dewey was within the suite, then, by himself. Webby put her hands on Lena's shoulders and peered into her eyes. The startling blue, as always, captivated Lena. Unable to help herself, Lena flung herself into Webby's arms. Webby hugged her tightly.

This was what she'd wanted, what she'd always wanted. Why was she denying herself? Was she doing what Dewey and Webby had accused her of, letting Magica win? If so, what was the point? She was denying herself future happiness because she hated herself? Yes, well, that was true, but she'd hurt Dewey and Webby besides. While she believed in punishing herself, she didn't want to inflict pain upon the others. They'd done nothing to deserve it. Webby had injured herself on Lena's behalf (well, Lena and Mrs. Beakley).

"Sorry," Lena said and smiled at Webby. Even in a nightgown, she was radiant. Her wife was radiant. Surprising Webby, she kissed her hard on the lips. Webby squealed in delight and kissed her back.

Dewey popped his head out from the suite. "Uh, am I missing something?"

"No," Lena said, breaking off the kiss to blow Dewey a raspberry. "You're not missing anything at all. Go back in there, blue. We'll start and finish without you."

"Hey!" Dewey objected and Lena grinned wickedly.

"You seem like you're in a better mood," Webby ventured. Lena still hadn't released her. She was hers. She could hold her and touch her whenever she wanted. Webby belonged to her. Okay, yes, her and Dewey, but still.

"Let's go into the suite, pink," she replied. She smirked at Dewey. "Wanna watch?"

"You're not serious, are you?" he asked and then turned to Webby. "Is she?"

"Oh, I don't know," Webby said with a matching grin. "I mean, if you don't feel like participating, then it's really on you, isn't it?"

"I want to participate!" he huffed.

"Then why are you standing in the doorway staring at us?" Lena countered and, keeping one arm about Webby's waist, put the other one on her hip. "You're not impressing me, blue."

Webby stepped forward, not so much that Lena lost her grip on her, but enough so that she was pushing Dewey back into their suites. Lena admired her. She was still shorter than her and probably always would be, but she was fierce, perhaps because of her smallness. Webby was like a crouching animal ready to spring and Lena loved her for that, among so many other things.

"I'll show you impressive," Dewey vowed.

"Oh, really? Because all you seem to be doing is bragging," Lena replied as she and Webby entered the suites and locked the door behind them. "I'm not seeing anything that's impressing me. Are you, Webs?"

"Nope," Webby replied, grinning. "Not at all."

"Looks like you need to step up your game," Lena teased. Dewey scowled and then, getting the look on his face that the girls knew well as the "I'll show you" look, leaned forward and kissed Lena. Lena was surprised, not the least because Dewey was rather aggressive, and she smiled. She didn't love Dewey, not yet, but she could grow to love him.

And since Webby had chosen them both, she supposed she had better get used to it. Neither of them was going anywhere any time soon.

They needed to get an early start if they were going to start hunting for that lamp soon. Scrooge and Goldie had finally ended up in Scrooge's bedchamber, where they'd alternated between sleeping and other less wholesome activities. Scrooge awoke before Goldie and stared at her blonde hair splayed out on the pillows. He wanted to Bond with her so badly that it was an ache. She wouldn't let him marry her. She was too independent than that.

He bet if he were the living embodiment of gold, she'd marry him. Ugh. He shook his head at his own foolishness. They'd been down this road before many times. There was no point in belaboring the matter. He was only going to agitate himself.

"Could you stare a little less obvious?" Goldie grumbled. Her face was buried in the pillow. "Some of us are trying to sleep."

"Then I guess you won't mind when I get started 'fore you do and take the lamp first," he teased and she sprang up. Her hair was a mess and he snickered. She poked at his forehead and his receding hairline.

"Ha ha yourself, Moneybags. Like I'm letting you get ahead of me in anything. Well, except sex, but you can't help that, can you?" she teased back and he went scarlet. She grinned.

"For the last time-" he started defensively.

"Relax," she said and pecked him on the cheek. "You take everything so seriously. Live a little. I'll be ready in two shakes of a dragon's tail. Or a little less if you'd get your hand off my leg."

Oh. Right. He blushed deeper and then sprang to his feet.

"You know, I appreciate the view, but your nephews might want you to wear a bathrobe before sauntering in to have breakfast."

"O'course I'm going to get dressed!" he snapped.

"I mean, you don't have to," she demurred. "I mean, when we take off as dragons, we're naked. When we Fly, we'll be naked too."

His heart stopped and then restarted.

"Ye're goin' to give me a heart attack," he grumbled.

"That'd be a shame, then, because there were other things I wanted to do with you," she purred.

"Did you want to Bond or not?" he growled and she shrugged. He couldn't help but watch as her breasts rose and fell. Unfortunately, his attention to her chest did not go unnoticed. She cast a pointed look down and then back up at his face. If he could've gone any redder, he would have.

"I'll think about it," she replied. "You take a gal treasure hunting enough times and you never know. Maybe you'll get your wish one of these days."

"Stop teasin'!" he huffed.

"Now, Scrooge, what fun would that be? Absolutely none. By the way, the last one to the breakfast table has to explain to Beakley what we did all night," she said and Scrooge growled. She laughed, dressing quickly. Damn her. And how was he turned on watching her dress, too? How did she manage to confound him and manipulate him so well? If he weren't so hungry and determined to get a move on, he would've taken her again. It wasn't like she was unreceptive, either.

He dressed quickly too, misbuttoning in his haste. Unfortunately, either because she was more dexterous than Scrooge or because she was determined to beat him, she made it out of the room fully clad before he did. He was still stumbling into his pants as he entered the dining room and Mrs. Beakley took one look at him and then another at Goldie and sighed.

"It seems everyone had a busy night," Mrs. Beakley said, putting down eggs, coffee, and toast on the dining room table. Scrooge fixed himself and sat down. Webby and Lena, along with two of the triplets trooped in. Scrooge assumed Louie was sleeping in. Of Donald and Della, there was no sign, which he thought peculiar. Then again, perhaps Della was still recovering from last night.

Scrooge caught a glimpse of Webby's face. The scars were fading and when she opened her mouth, it looked like the wounds were healing faster. Ah, right, Bond healing. In addition to ensuring the continuation of the dragon species and linking dragons emotionally, mentally, and physically to each other, Bonds also accelerated healing through reaffirmation of their links. It usually required a consummation, which meant that the youngsters had completed the first step toward a full Bond.

That also meant that they'd need to schedule the second ceremony soon and plan for their eventual separation. The three dragons would need to be teleported away from each other, their memories wiped, and only their sense of each other intact to allow them to locate each other and complete the last stage. Of course, that was usually for male/female and male/male Bonds. He wasn't entirely sure how female dragons in dragon form...but never mind. That was a delicate topic he didn't want to broach. Besides, given how much research Webby did, she probably had an idea and would share it with the officiator, perhaps at entirely too much depth for anyone's comfort.

"What makes you think that?" Dewey asked, his eyes darting around and his cheeks reddening. "We didn't do anything."

"Uh huh," Mrs. Beakley said. "Well, at least the eggs won't be an issue until the Flight."

Lena winced. Dragon eggs had to be incubated for six months before they hatched. That, however, was probably not why the girl was cringing. They were young to be embarking on that particular life journey. It was assumed that others would take care of the children while they worked on cementing their links to each other.

"Speaking of which," Mrs. Beakley said sharply, prompting his attention to return to his bodyguard/housekeeper, "your other nephew and Magica made quite a scene last night. In public, no less."

"Ugh, gross," Lena said, pushing away her eggs. "I did not want to hear that."

"Then they'll need the second ceremony too," he said and then frowned. "Did they even have the first?"

"They're not married, so no," Mrs. Beakley responded.

"I'm not doing it at the same time as Aunt Magica," Lena growled.

"I dinnae say you would," Scrooge reassured her. His brow furrowed and his frown deepened. "We cannae allow her to keep her offspring, either."

"If Aunt Magica doesn't kill it before it even hatches," Lena muttered.

Scrooge and Mrs. Beakley exchanged horrified glances. Though the statement had been rather blunt, Lena might have a point. If the Bond did not culminate in viable eggs that then hatched, the female would fall into estrus. And no one wanted that. Magica was unpleasant enough without that...complication.

"Does she have to have kids?" Dewey asked.

"According to the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook-" Huey started.

"How the hell is that in there?" Dewey asked, turning to his older brother, who was wearing a red pajama set.

"The JWG has everything," Huey informed him. "Anyway, according to the JWG, if she doesn't, she'll fall into heat. And then, well…"

He grimaced.

"Yes, that would be something we'd like to avoid, if at all possible," Mrs. Beakley said.

"I donnae think she'll actually go through with the Bonding," Scrooge said. "She'll find some reason to put it off."

"And what if she doesn't?" Huey said. "What then?"

"I'd like to know how she's going to fly with an eye and tail out," Lena snorted. "I'd pay to see that."

Scrooge sighed. "Gyro may have to make something for her in the lab."

"No!" Lena said, springing to her feet. "Why should we help her when she's been nothing but trouble? Let her try to Fly without it. If she crashes, too bad."

"Lena, we cannae let her break her neck-"

"Why not?" Lena growled and Webby and Dewey put hands on her to restrain her. The older girl was trembling in a fine rage. "What difference does it make? If she dies, then it's her fault."

"Granting her mercy is what differentiates us from her," Mrs. Beakley said quietly.

"We cannae be so cruel as that. We have to give her a chance."

"Why?" Lena protested. "Why should you? How does she deserve one? She would've killed me if Cal hadn't intervened. And if she attacks me again, she'll kill Dewey and Webby too. Or are you willing to risk that?"

A heavy silence fell over the breakfast table. Goldie, drinking coffee, quirked her eyebrows at Scrooge.

"Well?" Goldie said. "The girl has a point. Once you've started the Bonding process, killing one of them will either kill the other(s) or drive them insane before they die and possibly bring others down with them. It's not just Magica's life that's at stake here."

"And if she's already started the process with Gladstone, it'll kill or drive him insane if she dies," Scrooge said quietly.

"So? He chose her," Lena said, but there was less vitriol in her comment now. She looked uncomfortable and shrugged. "I don't know why he did. I don't know what he sees in her."

"With that necklace, she cannae touch you," Scrooge replied. "Gyro will give her a way to navigate in the air and a way to compensate for her lack of depth perception. She cannae hurt you again, Lena. I promise."

Lena sat back down, but she was still visibly upset. Her lower lip quivered and she swallowed hard. Webby stroked her hair and Dewey took her hand. Their touch comforted her, but not enough to completely calm her down.

"She doesn't deserve mercy," Lena said, at last, glaring at the table cloth.

"Maybe not," Scrooge agreed and she looked up at him. "But we aren't barbarians. And if Magica chooses not to Bond fully, then make no mistake. She will be executed."

The pronouncement hung heavily over the breakfast table and Goldie whistled.

"Dark tidings for breakfast," she said, finishing her coffee. "Ready to go treasure hunting, Scroogie?"

"Aye," he said. "Beakley, ye'll call me if anything comes up?"

"Of course, Mr. McDragon," she assured him and her expression clouded, resembling Lena's for a moment. "Anything at all."

"Good luck," Huey said and Scrooge inclined his head.

"You too," he said. "To all of ye."