If Mrs. Beakley hadn't wanted Magica dead before, after hearing of Magica's attacks on her granddaughter and Lena, she certainly did now. She still couldn't speak and two days had passed since the sorceress had attacked her. She could, however, navigate the manor fine. Cal had bandaged Webby's face and since Lena had gotten some rest, they were both ambulatory, although Lena seemed a shadow of herself. She seemed to have taken her father's death very hard, as well as Webby's attack. As far as Mrs. Beakley knew, Webby's mouth had healed inside, though Webby had been cautioned against speaking too much until it had fully healed. Just in case she opened anything up.

Scrooge was assembling the members of the oligarchy to discuss Magica. Again. She didn't see why they hadn't dealt with her in the first place, rather than waiting until she'd nearly killed a child and maimed another one. But it wasn't her place to say. "Loosen up, 22," would've been her admonition if she'd complained. If she'd been able to speak to do so, that was.

They had postponed the ball, seeing as one of the hosts was temporarily incapacitated. Complaints had come in, but all Scrooge had needed to do was display Magica's mutilated form and the person usually shut up. Though Cal had cauterized the wounds, he hadn't healed her. Then again, there was no replacing a missing eyeball. He could have regrown Magica's tail, she supposed, if he'd been disposed toward it. He wasn't. However, they had shifted her back to her humanoid form, which made it easier to restrain her. The irony that she had wanted that form back and now had it, albeit without Poe, was not lost on any of them.

At present, Magica was restrained in one of the dungeons on the other side of the manor from Scrooge's hoard. No one wanted to chance Magica figuring out an escape route and then procuring the artifact that would restore her powers. Then again, considering how tight the restraints were, Bentina very much doubted she'd accomplish that. Mrs. Beakley had personally seen to it that Magica could only hobble around and only that from her bed to the toilet and back. The restraints were tight enough to hurt, but not brittle enough to break, even if Magica had possessed her usual strength.

Mrs. Beakley watched Magica on her cot. While part of her wished to quiz the other dragon at length, the rest of her just wanted to watch her suffer. That Magica had attacked Webby with the goal of murdering her incensed Bentina. (She was conflicted, however, on the subject of Lena. She understood that Lena had done none of this on her own, that she'd been pushed by Magica, but Webby wouldn't have been a target if Lena hadn't been present).

"Do you mind?" Magica snapped. "I'm trying to sulk in peace."

Incapable of responding verbally and unwilling to condescend to use a dry erase board to converse with her, Bentina glared back.

"Oh, that's right, your throat," Magica said and laughed. "I'd forgotten. How do you like your precious granddaughter's new look? I was going for her eyes, but I missed."

Her expression darkened. "Though her aim was spot on."

Perhaps this had been a mistake. Magica was desperate for the company-other than the jailers bringing her food, she hadn't had company since the fight. At least, not as far as Bentina knew, not unless Scrooge had broken his word and visited Magica. He had promised not to see her until the trial, although Scrooge could be foolhardy like that.

"Come now, you can't have shown up here and expected me to ignore you," Magica said. "There must be something you want from me or you wouldn't be here."

Bentina scowled. In her experience, the best way to get someone to start talking and divulge sensitive information was to stay quiet long enough for the other person to grow uncomfortable and speak to fill the void. In a way, her incapacitation was an advantage, because it meant even if she'd been tempted to respond to Magica's taunts, she couldn't dignify her with a response. Magica's eye flashed and she attempted to see Bentina, but the assassin had hidden in the shadows and the dim lighting in the dungeon and Magica's inability to move freely inhibited her propensity to see beyond her cell.

"If you're waiting for an apology, you're going to have an awfully long time to wait, 22," Magica sneered.

Bentina's scowl transformed into a smirk. She could afford to wait. Could Magica?

"Or were you wondering why I targeted your precious Webbigail?" she continued. "Because I can answer that. You see, dumb, dumb little Lena had the misfortune to fall in love with her. She was quite disgusting about it-mooning over her and everything.

"She stalled for years to keep me from getting what I needed in a vain attempt to protect Webby from my wrath. I didn't get entirely what I wanted, but I got in a few licks."

She laughed. "And I might have permanently brain damaged Lena, which is all to the good. She would have deserved it for letting her father die."

At that, she sobered. "Little traitor. I can't believe Poe is gone…"

She gasped and, surprisingly, she didn't sound like she was giving crocodile tears. She might genuinely be grieved by Poe's condition. There might have been a capacity to love within Magica, albeit buried and conditional. That could explain her attachment to Gladstone.

Magica straightened up as best as she could considering her predicament and huffed. "Well? I'm not telling you any more than that. You can stand here all day if you want, but I won't give you anything."

Bentina snorted. She had already spoken more than she'd intended. Bentina knew from experience that Magica tended to gloat when winning and complain when losing. In the meanwhile, her mind whirled over the revelations. While she was glad Lena hadn't been permanently injured by Magica's mental attack, she wondered what kind of condition Lena was in after having been mentally blasted so many times, all to protect Webby. She must truly love her granddaughter.

She ignored Magica's further rambling and went back upstairs, where she discovered Cal waiting for her at the top of the staircase. He was scowling at her in a way that told her he knew what she'd been up to and he didn't approve. Cal had prescribed bed rest for her, Webby, and Lena. To her knowledge, though, none of them were adhering to his prescription.

"Back to bed," he ordered. If she had her voice, she might have chastised him for thinking he could boss her around. As it was, however, she reluctantly followed him back to her bed. She discovered Lena and Webby in her room and Cal growled.

"All of you, go to bed! Your own beds!" he said, noting the looks Lena and Webby shot each other. "Now!"

After he'd seen that Mrs. Beakley was in her bed and not getting out, he rounded on the girls and shooed them out too. Webby cast her a despondent gaze; she was more worried about her grandmother and Lena than she was about herself. That was typical Webby. Of course, it was to her detriment, but Webby always believed in putting herself last. She suppressed a sigh. Oh, Webbigail.

When Cal returned, she cleared her throat and said, in a hoarse voice, weak but still audible, "You do know they're going to ignore you, right? They are teenagers."

"So you can speak again," Cal mused. "Still, it'd be best for you to rest your voice and let it regain its strength. As for their sneaking around, no, I wouldn't doubt it."

They would be seeking solace in each other. Of course, in doing so, they would probably be ignoring their problems in favor of worrying about the other person. Mrs. Beakley suppressed a groan. As soon as she had her full vocal power back, she needed to have a talk with them. Heaven knew someone did, especially Lena.

"Go to sleep," Cal instructed and Bentina stifled a humorless laugh. There was only so much resting one could do before one grew bored of it. As soon as he'd disappeared, she grabbed a book off her nightstand and started reading. Then she rolled her eyes-it was one of Della's adventure stories. How had that found its way here? Or had Della donated it in the hopes that it might cheer her up? Well, she wouldn't put it past the younger woman.

Deciding that reading that was better than staring up at the ceiling and counting floaters, she opened the book and settled in. She tried not to worry about what her granddaughter and Lena might be getting up to or whether Dewey was worried sick about both of them (he probably was). She also tried not to think about Scrooge popping in on Magica and taunting her.

Sometimes, she suspected there was a sort of black romance going on between them, a hate-hate relationship that might be sexual in nature. Then she realized she had absolutely no interest in that as it involved thinking far too much about her employer than she wanted to. It was bad enough that he flaunted his relationship with Goldie about the manor.

She tried not to let other thoughts intrude on her reading. It was such a pain when you were trying to read and you kept thinking about everything under the sun. In that way, reading was not a distraction. However, it could be an escape, which was why she thought Della enjoyed it so much.

At least she had her voice back, albeit not as powerful as before. She'd been worried Magica had cut her vocal cords. That ought to be a relief, though her mind kept drifting back to Lena and Webby. And Magica. Damn it all. She was too wound up to relax.

She didn't have a mental connection with Webby as powerful as it might have been if Webby were a direct descendant and she'd used up magic contacting her before. But she reached out for her now to reassure herself that Webby was all right. Webby didn't notice; perhaps Mrs. Beakley's touch was too subtle. Or perhaps Webby was otherwise occupied. Mrs. Beakley wouldn't hold it against her if she was. Heaven knew that Webby could use the distraction.

Even with her mouth healing, Webby didn't care. She hugged Lena to her and kissed her desperately, knowing that she could have lost her, knowing that Magica had wanted both of them dead. Dewey had hopped into the room too, though he wasn't supposed to be here either. Cal had wanted both girls to rest and relax, which wasn't happening. Dewey hugged Webby to her and stroked her cheek. Apparently, he'd resigned himself to sharing Webby. She wasn't sure whether Lena and Dewey had feelings for each other or had decided that this was the best possible outcome, at least right now.

She knew Lena wasn't too chuffed about sharing her, though she wasn't putting up any objections right now. The only problem, as far as Webby could see, was that the kissing wasn't entirely distracting her from Poe's death. Webby pulled back and realized Lena was crying. The older girl took in her injuries at a glance and attempted to wrest herself completely free of Webby.

Webby grabbed her wrists.

"Hey," Webby said softly. "Hey. Don't run away."

Talking was difficult and painful, but she made the effort for Lena. What she wanted now, more than anything was to Bond with her. That way, they wouldn't need to worry about physical limitations or losing each other again. She'd know when Lena was in danger and be able to save her. She could be Lena's knight in shining armor.

"It's my fault this happened," Lena said, shaking her head. "I dragged you into this."

"No," Webby said and speaking stretched the wounds on her face. Dewey hissed.

"You shouldn't speak that much," he reprimanded. "You heard what the doctor said."

Yes, she had heard what Cal had said, but that didn't matter, not if she couldn't get through to Lena through nonverbal communication. Perhaps Lena felt guilty for letting Webby's kissing distract her earlier. Perhaps this was how she attempted to make up for it, by trying to pull away before she derived too much comfort from it.

"Lena, don't go," she pleaded. At least with Cal's healing, speaking didn't open up the wounds, but it brought sharp pangs to her cheeks and mouth. Lena winced, looking guiltier than ever. She wasn't a happy camper and Webby feared she might leave anyway, regardless of Webby's entreaties.

The older girl hesitated, surveying her wounds and then weighing her options. If she left, Webby would pursue her. She'd risk exacerbating her injuries to convince her to linger. If she stayed, she'd succumb to her own desires. Then again, the only person who cared what Lena did now, besides her and Dewey, was Lena. Magica wouldn't care what befell her niece unless Lena was unlucky enough to fall and break her neck. Then she might concern herself.

"Please," Webby added and then yelped in pain.

"Webby…" Lena faltered and her expression was anguished.

"Stay," Dewey added and Lena spun about, startled by his intervention. "We both want you to stay. Besides, where would you go? To your hideout? To be alone? You shouldn't be alone right now. I remember when I first learned what happened to my mom. I wanted to be left alone too-that wasn't the best idea."

"But Della's still alive," she protested.

"She was still missing for ten years in the jungle," Dewey replied. "That counts for something."

"I had Poe as a bird father for years and didn't act on it…" Lena said. "It's my fault he died. Magica's right."

"Would you listen to yourself?" he objected. "Since when is Magica right about anything? Ever? You're not worthless and it's not your fault Poe died. It's Magica's for shoving him into that form in the first place. You didn't do anything wrong, Lena."

"I could have-" she protested.

"You didn't want to risk losing Webby or us," he said. "I understand. And you never knew your dad."

"That's what Webby said," Lena snapped, straightening up and glaring at Dewey. "That doesn't make it right."

"Magica put you in an impossible situation," Dewey argued. Webby was surprised he felt so passionately about this. Then again, she wasn't sure how much of his argument was based off on how he felt about Webby versus Lena herself. He was determined to prove his case.

Lena scowled. It didn't seem like she had an argument. Instead, she folded her arms across her chest and then slid off the bed.

"Don't!" Webby cried, yanking on her wrists. Lena halted, staring back at her.

She was risking re-injuring herself, even if she didn't open the wounds back up. But she had to impress upon Lena how important this was. Why couldn't she see it? Or did she want to punish herself more than she wanted to be with them?

"If you do this, you're only letting Magica win," Dewey said. "You're acting exactly how she'd want you to behave. If she can't kill you, then she'd want to make you miserable. She wants to make everyone as miserable as she is."

Lena sat back on the bed and assessed the two of them. She nudged Dewey.

"I didn't know you felt that way about me, blue," she said, though she was smiling at him.

"Well, Webby does and maybe I do…" he said and Lena snorted.

"No 'maybe'," she said. Her eyes were bright. "All right, fine. You wore me down. I'll stay. Where is Aunt Magica, anyway?"

"Down in the dungeons," Dewey said and Webby hit him. "Ow! What was that for?"

"I'm not going to bust her out," Lena said. Webby knew that, but she thought perhaps Lena had something else in mind. She would speak with her, she'd upset herself again, and then she'd leave. Webby couldn't risk it. They'd need to have someone keep an eye on Lena for a while, in case she did a runner.

"I didn't say that you were," Dewey said, frowning. "Why did you hit me?"

"I'll be fine," Lena said, spying Webby's look. Webby folded her arms across her chest.

"I will," Lena insisted. "Take a little on faith, pink."

No, faith wasn't the problem. The problem was that Magica was abusive and yet, she was Lena's only parental figure. Therefore, she'd run back to her anyway, even if it meant that it'd do more damage in the long run. She couldn't let that happen. She couldn't say much against it, but she refused to let Lena hurt herself.

"You don't believe me," Lena said.

"No," Webby said, despite the pain it cost her. "I don't."

"I'm not going to betray you," Lena said.

"I'm not worried about that," Webby answered. She put a hand up to her cheek, which was throbbing now. She tasted blood in her mouth and sighed. Calente was going to be upset with her.

"I'm just going to have a little conversation with her. That's not illegal, is it?" Lena said, raising her eyebrows.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Dewey said, thankfully finally on Webby's wavelength.

Webby knew it wasn't a good idea. She glowered at Lena.

"You two can come too, if you want," Lena said, sighing. "You might as well since you're determined to be my shadows now."

That wasn't the compromise Webby wanted and Lena knew it. Why was Lena being so obstinate? Well, two could play at that game. Even without speaking, Webby could let Lena know just how little she approved of this plan.

"It'll only be a few minutes," Lena said. "And yeah, I get it. You object. Strenuously. Relax, pink. I'm not going to do anything that'd hurt you or Dewey."

Webby was swallowing back anger. "Don't you get that I'm not worried about myself? Or Dewey? I'm worried about you, you beautiful idiot!"

As she said this, her mouth filled with blood again and she cursed, spitting out a glob. Oh, yes, Calente was going to be infuriated and she only had herself to blame. But there was only so far she could be pushed.

"She can't physically touch me or mentally...she's behind bars…" Lena said, nonplussed and then worried by what Webby's outburst had cost her.

"Webby...you should really see the doctor," Lena said, her expression drawn.

"Seriously, Webby," Dewey said, his expression likewise constricted. "And we can put off seeing Magica unless you want me to go with Lena?"

Oh, sure, treat her like the invalid just because she was injured. She seethed, tempted to spit blood in Dewey's face. Instead, she elbowed him in the stomach and stood up with her arms folded across her chest. If Lena wasn't happy, then Webby was far past that point and verging on enraged.

"It'll only be five minutes," Lena argued. "Ten, tops. Relax, okay?"

She kept telling her to do that. It wasn't happening. She glowered.

Lena kissed her on the cheek. "Glad you understand."

Oh, she was going to wring her neck when they got back. No, wait, she wasn't. Because she was coming too, blood-filled mouth or not. Don't count her out.

When Lena moved toward the dungeons, which Webby supposed she must've known from skulking about the manor for Magica, Webby came with her.

"I'm not really sure you should be walking around like that," Dewey said. Webby glared at him too.

"But you have that scary look on your face that tells me if I don't listen to you, you're going to hurt me," he added.

Her eyes narrowed.

"All right, all right, you can come," he said.

"You really shouldn't-" Lena halted, reluctant to encourage Webby further. "Never mind. You do what you want. You can even spit blood in my aunt's face. Knock yourself out."

Webby snorted and choked back blood. Oh, she would spit blood in Magica's face. The bitch deserved it. As for confronting her again, she'd enjoy seeing her injured. Webby didn't consider herself an evil person, but she did have some dark tendencies that were brought out by seeing people hurt the ones she loved. In that respect, she couldn't be held responsible for how she acted.

"This isn't a good idea…" Dewey said and Webby just glared at him again. "You know what? I'm cool with that."

Webby smirked. He'd better be. She wasn't giving either of them a choice in the matter.

Magica stared out the bars of her cell. After the children had come to harangue her and she'd tongue lashed Lena, things had grown rather quiet. She'd taken pleasure in seeing Webby's mouth full of blood, even if the little urchin had spat at her. Even magical healing hadn't eradicated the problem. She could see how much effort it took for Webby to speak and she'd laughed in her face. The best part was how distraught Lena was over Webby. That had almost made her maiming worth it. Almost.

Except now, in the cold dungeon cell, she had nothing to entertain her. She was left alone with her thoughts, which kept cycling back to how Poe had perished. She wanted to keep blaming Lena because it felt safe and fueled her rage, which hardly needed stoking at this point. However, what the blue brat had said had penetrated. Perhaps it was Lena's fault for not procuring the elixir in time, but it was Magica's fault that Poe had turned into a bird in the first place.

Growing up, she had never properly appreciated Poe. He'd been non-magical, which meant she had little use for him. Then, when he'd grown swept up in her schemes, he decided to take a step back and take care of his daughter, Lena. This had incensed Magica and, a few years after Lena's birth, she'd convinced him once more to accompany her on another risky venture. She'd wanted to punish Lena for existing because she'd stolen Poe's attention away from his sister. Yes, she was jealous of a child. Yes, she realized how pathetic that sounded.

To her consternation, Poe's last heist with her had sealed their fate. She was glad to be back in humanoid form, but it had destroyed her. Without any vestiges of magic left, without her brother, in captivity and awaiting trial, Magica had nothing and no one. She wasn't sure Scrooge could be counted on to convey a message to Gladstone, assuming they could even find him. Moreover, she wasn't sure Gladstone would still support her, given the circumstances.

She closed her remaining eye; she didn't see the point in attempting sleep, however. That damnable Beakley had tightened her restraints to be as painful as possible to punish her for attacking Webbigail. Still, she must have slumbered, or at least dozed, because when she next glanced at the sky, the moon was up. She could just see its impression from the high window in her cell.

Someone cleared their throat and she turned. Gladstone was standing there, a vision in green, and her heart stopped. She sprang to her feet, forgetting the chains, and fell back down. With a whimper, because her posterior ached even if she didn't have a tail in this form, she stared at him. He was staring back and his look was unkind.

Her lower lip quivered. She could explain. With trembling hands, she reached out toward him. Please don't forsake me…

Instead of speaking, he studied her for a few minutes. The longer he went without speaking, the more her hopes diminished. Wasn't he going to say something, even if it was to condemn her? Her throat was tight and she extended her trembling fingers as far as they could go. Anything, she would take anything from him, if only he would speak.

He clasped her hands in his and she exhaled raggedly, relieved beyond words. He surveyed her face and then, releasing one of her hands, cupped her cheek, right below her missing eye. She gazed up at him with utter desperation. If he didn't vouch for her or at least plead clemency, she'd have no one. But...why wasn't he speaking?

Her throat was tight and tears welled in her good eye. She intertwined their fingers.

"Uncle Scrooge said he'll stay the trial, on one condition," Gladstone said and crouched near her. She tried to inch closer to the bars, but couldn't quite reach them. She nodded, not trusting herself to be capable of a response.

"You have to Bond with me," he said. "He thinks it's the only way to prevent you from losing your head over his family again. Somehow, he's under the impression I can help calm you down."

He smiled crookedly. "Is that true, Magica? Would you consent to it?"

The smile flickered and faded. "Otherwise, the punishment for attacking his top bodyguard, her daughter, and attempted murder, child endangerment, and child abuse would probably be...well…"

The death penalty. Scrooge might carry it out, too. She wouldn't put it past him. After all, he could be hard-hearted against those who hurt his family.

"Magica…" he breathed and pushed himself as close as he could get to the bars since she had no slack in her chains. "I lost track of you for years only to find you like this."

"I was trapped as a dragon for almost fifteen years," she said. They couldn't quite get close to kiss, though he brushed his fingers against her lips. She sighed.

"I missed you...I couldn't find you…"

"I...I missed you too…" she admitted. If this was the only way to escape her destiny, then, well, there were worse things that could happen. Besides, she did want to Bond with him. Or at least be near him. They could always hammer out the details later.

"So you'll do it? You'll Bond with me?" he asked and she winced at the eagerness in his voice. To Bond with him would be to share everything, past and present, and it would also force her to let herself be vulnerable, even if only to him. In the past, she'd not considered it because she thought the risks outweigh the gains. Now, however, when it was her life in the balance…

"Give me a few minutes to…" she stopped. Why was she stalling? She had nothing left, no cards left to play. "Yes. I'll do it."

She wasn't sure whether the one condition Scrooge had mentioned was just Bonding or something else in addition to it. Somehow, she doubted he'd let her off the hook that easily. There were probably other requirements, but for the time being, she would remain alive. She wouldn't be able to Fly with him and have the Bonding Flight, because she was still injured. She didn't even know how flight would work with a damaged tail (thanks again, Webbigail).

"I'll get you out of here," Gladstone promised. His eyes narrowed at her spartan cell and squalid condition. "I promise."

"One step at a time," she said and her lips twitched. "Scroogie won't be as forgiving this time."

If he ever was. Gladstone nodded, stepping back. When he released her hand and her cheek, she mourned the loss of contact.

"I'll be back," he promised. "Sit tight, okay?"

She smiled humorlessly. "There's no other way to sit."

For a few seconds, he looked like he wanted to respond to that. However, he shook his head and disappeared soon after. Without even a goodbye. She wasn't surprised, even if she was a little hurt. Then again, how much more damage could she take, physically and emotionally?

She reached for her tether to Lena but there was a block in place. Someone was shielding the girl from Magica's wrath. Even if Magica had had the firepower to attack her, she couldn't have gotten to her.

Magica sighed and closed her eye again. Maybe tomorrow would be kinder.