Another day, another temple. Another adventure… and another dead end. Louie was leaning against the wall of the ancient temple his family was exploring, his phone in his hand. The winding passages they were following had led them to a dark corner of the temple with no other way out save for the one they had just came. Della and Donald were holding the torches while Huey, Dewey, Webby, and Scrooge were searching the area for a secret entrance. The youngest triplet had no interest in participating. This was what he hated about treasure hunting: the hunting. Legwork was something he never enjoyed – the best schemes were those that had the least amount of work with maximum result. Besides, hanging back and letting the others do the work was a classic Louie move. He wasn't going to break tradition now.
"Are you just going to stand there playing with your phone the whole time?" Dewey asked irritably.
"I wouldn't exactly call this playing with my phone," Louie replied. "These temples have no Wi-Fi or reception."
"That might be because they're old. Come and help us already!"
"I am helping. I'm supervising the search."
"That is not the same thing and you know it."
"Boys, that's enough," Della intervened. "Louie, your brother is right. Put your phone away and help us. Now, please."
"Fine," Louie said, rolling his eyes and putting his phone into the pocket of his hoodie. He began to pass his hands over the wall, pressing his hands against every stone. None of them would budge.
After a good ten minutes of this, Louie was ready to give up when Scrooge let out a triumphant cry.
"Aha!" the old Scotsman exclaimed. "This stone has a symbol covered with dust! What does this rune say, Huey?"
"According to the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook," Huey said, causing Louie to roll his eyes once more, "that rune pretty much means 'press here'."
Louie raised an eyebrow. Press here? That could not be good.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said as his great-uncle reached for the stone.
"Why not?" the magnate asked.
"Press here? Really? Don't you think that's a little suspicious?" Louie told him
"Only one way to find out! Press it, Uncle Scrooge!" Webby exclaimed cheerfully.
"I think Louie might have a point. What if it's a trap?" Donald said. "We're been in enough of temples to know these places function."
"But it might lead us to the treasure! If we don't press that stone, we might miss our chance to solve a mystery no one else has managed to solve!" Dewey cried.
"Both make a solid argument. So, Uncle Scrooge, what will it be?" Della asked.
Louie watched his great-uncle weigh his options. Don't do it, he thought. Nothing is ever this easy.
"Let's find that treasure!" Scrooge replied and he slammed his hand against the marked stone, pushing it into the wall.
The effect was instantaneous. The floor opened up and swallowed them whole. The torches Della and Donald were holding were extinguished as the family fell deeper and deeper into the darkness below, their cries echoing around them. Louie squeezed his eyes shut, willing for this nightmare to come to an end.
And it did. They crashed at the bottom of the pit and for a few seconds there was nothing but unadulterated darkness. Then, all of a sudden, the room sprang to life. Torches lined the walls, illuminating the chamber they had fallen into. With a groan, Louie sat up and looked around. More runes decorated the walls, different from the one that had led them down here, and no exit. The green triplet looked up and saw the hole from which they fell. It was so high up that it was nothing more than a pinprick of light shining in the distance.
Louie ran a frustrated hand over his face. Great, just great. He knew pressing that stone was going to be bad news – how were they going to get out of this mess?
There was a scuffling sound as the family got on their feet. Scrooge gazed around the chamber, looking more pleased than concerned.
"We're getting close to the treasure," he said. "This is the next step to it."
"How?" Louie demanded to know.
"Because to find this treasure you have to be tougher than the toughies and smarter than the smarties! This trap is a test, designed to weed out those who are unworthy to lay their hands on the riches. If we figure out how to get out of here, we'll get the treasure!"
"Nothing we can't handle!" Dewey declared loudly from behind Louie, making the latter jump.
"That's the spirit, lad!" Scrooge exclaimed cheerfully. "Can the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook decode all of these runes?" he added to Huey.
"Of course. It'll take a lot of time but it can be done," the red triplet stated, his eyes scanning the pages of the book. "Keep in mind that there are traps in here so don't touch anything until we've got everything translated."
"More traps? Fantastic…" Louie mumbled as Dewey and Webby gave each other a high-five.
"Let's get started. The sooner we do that, the sooner we can get out of here," Della said.
"Where do we start?" Donald asked, looking up. The runes stretched to a few feet above them.
"I suggest we start at the top and work our way down," Huey replied. "But the runes up there are too high to read accurately."
"Let's form a ladder. Huey, since you're the one with the book, you'll be at the very top," Scrooge said.
"Sounds good, Uncle Scrooge. Let's do this."
Louie watched as Della hoisted Donald onto her shoulders, followed by Scrooge, Dewey, and Webby. With a sigh, he climbed his way onto Dewey's shoulders and winced as Huey stepped on his beak while positioning himself on his youngest brother. Apart from the sound of Huey's pencil scratching on paper, the chamber was silent as the others waited for the oldest triplet's findings.
"Got anything, lad?" Scrooge said after what felt like an eternity to Louie. "My shoulders are starting to ache."
"Your shoulders hurt? You're not the one who is literally carrying the whole family," Della said with a strain in her voice.
"From what I can gather," Huey said, "the top runes are the warnings against the traps. They tell us which stone triggers which trap. They were put up here so treasure hunters wouldn't see them."
"Can you hurry up and finish with the translation already?" Donald said. "I don't know how much longer I can hold on."
"I'm almost done! I just got another two symbols to translate and we're good to go!"
Louie resisted the urge to roll back his shoulders. He, too, was starting to find Huey's weight unbearable. But if the nerd could get them out of this wretched place with his nerd stuff, Louie wasn't about to disrupt his progress, no matter how much he was tempted to throw his oldest brother off his own aching shoulders.
A fly started buzzing about. Louie followed it with his eyes, willing it to move away from them. It went downward and he had no idea when it went until he heard Dewey trying to hold back a sneeze. The fly must have landed on his beak – why there out of all places? Louie braced himself for the inevitable that came seconds later: Dewey sneezed and threw the entire group off-balance. They struggled to steady themselves to no avail and the ladder they had formed fell apart like a house of cards. Louie hit the ground hard and had the wind knocked out of him. Dizzy and smarting all over, he tried to catch his breath as he forced himself to get up, using the wall as support. The stone beneath his hand moved and he felt something prick his palm. He yanked it away and saw an arrow sticking out of the stone he had just accidentally pushed. Louie stared at it. If that thing was supposed to stab him to death, it did a lousy job. What a pathetic trap, Louie thought.
"Everyone okay?" Scrooge called out, using his cane to get on his feet.
"We're fine!" Della exclaimed as she and Donald tended to the children. "A bit bruised but no broken bones, fortunately."
"Why did you sneeze like that?" Webby asked, giving Dewey an incredulous stare.
"It's not like I did it on purpose!" Dewey cried indignantly. "You can thank that stupid fly for tickling my beak!"
"Really? Blaming the fly? That's what you're going with?"
"Everybody, stop!" Huey suddenly yelled.
They all turned to him. He was staring at Louie with a horrified expression.
"What?" Louie asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You… You pushed that stone, didn't you?" Huey asked, pointing at the arrow behind his brother.
"Yeah, but it was an accident! I didn't mean to."
"Did that arrow touch you?"
"Uh… yes?"
Huey turned pale under his feathers. "That arrow is poisoned," he said.
"What?" the group cried.
With trembling hands, Huey opened the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook and pointed at the rune that matched the one on the stone Louie had touched. They all leaned in to take a look.
"That rune tells us that if that if that stone is pressed, a poisoned arrow comes out and pricks the hand of the one who did the pressing," Huey explained quietly.
Louie felt the blood drain from his face.
"Is there an antidote?" Scrooge asked with a note of urgency in his voice.
"Yes. It's actually somewhere in this room: pressing the right stone will give it to us," Huey told him.
"Well? Which stone is it?" Donald asked, sounding panicked.
"I don't know yet. I'll have to keep translating these runes to find out," Huey told him. He flipped through the pages. "The good news is, according to the Guidebook, this poison is slow-acting – we've got a day to find the antidote. But Louie will be gradually developing symptoms as time advances."
Della ran over to her youngest son and pulled him into a tight hug. Louie returned the embrace, face buried against her shoulder, hands tightly gripping her clothes.
"Oh, Louie! We'll find that antidote, don't you worry," Della said. Louie could tell his mother was feeling about as brave as he did, which was not at all.
"I know…" Louie said quietly, trying to keep the fear out of his voice.
"Let's start the search for that antidote! Time is precious and we're wasting it," Scrooge ordered, giving the ground a sharp tap with his cane. "We'll partake in the translating of the runes, Huey. If we all chip in, we'll have every symbol covered in no time."
Della gave Louie a squeeze before releasing him and joining the others as they gathered around Huey. Louie looked at his palm: the small puncture wound was right in the centre, seemingly innocuous. He tried to quell the rising panic within him. Stay calm, he told himself. Freaking out has never helped anyone. Much easier said than done, since his mind kept wandering back to the worst-case scenario. The triplet gave himself a rough shake and joined his family, trying to pull himself together. Uncle Scrooge was right: if they worked together, they could find this antidote faster and Louie, as much as he hated work of any kind, was willing to do what it took to survive. He was not going to die, especially not in a temple of doom.