Where did his strength go? Louie couldn't move a muscle – he couldn't even open his eyes. The green triplet had been wide awake for the last five minutes but he couldn't make it known to his family. Fear was rising again, which Louie attempted to quell. What was happening?

It then came back to him: Huey had mentioned that another symptom was the sapping of strength. Out of all the times that symptom could have occurred, why did it have to be while he had been sleeping? How was Louie going to inform his family if all he could do was lie motionless on the floor? He had to think of something before they came to wake him and the others.

The sound of Della's footsteps approaching told Louie it was too late for that. He heard his mother's voice telling them to wake up, the rustling sounds of his brothers and Webby getting on their feet, the quiet conversation his uncles were having a few feet away. Try as he might, Louie couldn't do anything and he braced himself for the oncoming panic his family would soon exhibit.

"Louie?" Della said. "It's time to wake up, honey."

She gently shook him. Louie attempted to speak but his voice failed him.

"Louie? Louie!"

The panic in Della's tone was unmistakable. She shook Louie harder, causing his head to bob up and down. The green triplet wished he could tell his mother to not be so rough.

He heard more footsteps, these ones moving at a faster pace. "What's happening?" Scrooge asked.

"He's… He's not waking up!" Della cried.

"What?" Scrooge and Donald exclaimed.

More footsteps, this time accompanied by the sound of a cane. Louie could almost sense his great-uncle hovering over him.

"Louie! Wake up, lad!" Scrooge said loudly.

Was it just him, or did Louie hear a pleading note in the magnate's words? This was one of those rare occasions that Louie wished he could respond to an adult's request.

There was something in front of his face and he wanted to swat it away. A thoughtful hum told Louie that something was Huey.

"He's still breathing," Huey said. There was a light tremor as he spoke. "He must have completely lost consciousness while he was asleep."

No! I'm still here! Louie thought. Wasn't it said that triplets had a sort of connection no one else had? Louie tried to telepathically tell Huey that he was still conscious, hoping he would somehow pick up the signal.

"Is there any way to wake him? Apart from the cure, I mean?" Donald asked anxiously.

Judging by Huey's silence, there wasn't. Despair was starting to wash over Louie; there had to be a way for him to at least open his eyes. It didn't matter if there wasn't anything else he could do: opening his eyes would reassure his family that he wasn't lost.

Before Louie could start thinking of a way to accomplish this task, he heard his mother stand up and pivot around. There was nothing at first, but then she said something the green triplet did not anticipate:

"This is all your fault!" Della yelled.

What? Louie thought, perplexed. Who was she accusing? The answer came soon enough.

"What do you mean, this is my fault?" Scrooge asked, sounding shaken. "I didn't poison the lad!"

He should have seen that one coming. Who else would Della blame for the predicament they were in? Louie didn't think it was fair to point the finger at Scrooge: like the magnate said, he didn't poison his own grandnephew. The old Scotsman was, however, an easy target in this instance.

"No, but we wouldn't be in this temple if it weren't for you! We're here because you planned our latest adventure to lead us to this forsaken place!" Della exclaimed angrily.

"Do you really think that I would have brought all of you all here if I had known just how dangerous this place is? We would have gone somewhere else instead!" Scrooge said.

"Well, you did build the Spear of Selene despite knowing how dangerous outer space is," Donald pointed out flatly. "So, yes, you would have."

If Louie had been capable of wincing, he would have done so. Of course they had to mention the Spear of Selene: they were all marked by what happened that day, including the children despite the fact they had not been there to witness it. Louie may have once blamed his great-uncle for his mother's disappearance but he did not blame him for this current mess. How many old temples had they explored over time? The number one rule when wandering around an abandoned building was to not touch anything, and Louie did just that. He had to find a way to stop the situation from spiralling out of control or else the family would wind up not speaking to Scrooge for another ten years.

"And you don't think I've learned from that mistake? Do you honestly believe that after watching Della vanish into thin air I would risk losing one of you again?" Scrooge said hotly.

"Technically, there is no air in space," Huey remarked.

"Not now, Huey!" Webby hissed.

"Thank you, lad, I wasn't aware," Scrooge deadpanned. Louie could easily picture the magnate running a frustrated hand over his face as he said those words.

"I don't know. Have you?" Donald asked.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Scrooge spat.

"I think you know," Dewey suddenly said.

There was a stunned silence. Louie was surprised by his brother's remark.

"W-What?" Scrooge stammered.

"First Mom, now Louie. Is something going to happen to each and every single one of us? Did Uncle Donald get hurt as well and you're just not telling us?" Dewey demanded.

Guess Dewey's still holding some resentment over that whole thing with Mom, Louie thought.

"Every injury your uncle gets is caused by him and him alone," Scrooge replied. "Donald is capable of hurting himself by simply walking."

"Hey!" Donald exclaimed in indignation.

"Where is the lie, Donald? Tell me, where's the lie in that statement?"

"Enough! We all know that the Spear of the Selene was a bad idea," Webby said. "But can we really compare it to what happened to Louie?"

"Seems pretty comparable to me. It's a temple instead of a rocket and traps instead of a cosmic storm. Same story, different book," Dewey said.

"We've gone through temples before, though. We're aware that there's a risk involved whenever we go out adventuring," Webby said reasonably. "I mean, Louie keeps a running tally of how many times each of us has been offered as a sacrifice."

"WHAT?" Donald yelled.

Not helping, Webby, Louie thought in exasperation. Donald was not going to like that information: if there was anything he had in common with Scrooge, it was that no one got away with threatening those he loved.

"Don't act so shocked," Scrooge said irritably. "You were there when Louie presented his list on our way to Mervana, unless you weren't paying attention? That wouldn't surprise me one bit."

Oh, right. Louie had forgotten about Donald's presence that day. He was inclined to agree that his uncle most likely had not been paying attention when he had whipped out that list: Donald would have lost his mind if he had seen that Dewey alone had been offered as a sacrifice sixty-one times so far, a fact that made the blue triplet oddly proud. Louie stopped trying to understand his brothers many years ago.

"Don't change the subject," Della said. "Me getting lost on the moon was one thing; having one of my sons be poisoned is another. I can't believe I'm saying this, but this will be the last adventure we go on."

"Mom, no!" Huey cried.

"You cannot be serious, Della," Scrooge said incredulously. "Why are you putting all the blame on me? Have you forgotten that Donald forced a mixture down Louie's throat that accelerated the process?"

"Trust me, I didn't. But we're not talking about Donald, we're talking about you. And I am serious, Uncle Scrooge. I'm a mother now, remember? My kids' safety comes first. If they decide to resume adventuring when they're adults, I won't stop them. But until then, it's the end of the line for us," Della said. "You should consider doing the same for your own daughter."

Louie couldn't believe what he was hearing. He might moan and gripe about adventuring but he would never actually give it up: he enjoyed it – most of the time. It was a part of who they were as a family and Louie knew his mother was making a mistake, one that she would regret. Adventuring was in their blood; they could never deny it.

"Maybe we should talk about this when emotions aren't running so high…" Webby said feebly.

"We're done talking about it," Della said firmly. "I'm going to continue searching for the cure. If you and Donald want to sleep, that's your decision."

"Of course we'll keep looking alongside you," Scrooge said. Louie noticed that his great-uncle sounded unsteady. "Sleep will have to wait."

"I've got adrenaline to keep me going. Let's go," Donald declared.

Louie heard footsteps walk away. He could still feel his brothers and Webby standing by him.

"Do you really blame Uncle Scrooge, Dewey? Or are you just going along with what your mom said?" Webby asked.

"It makes sense, doesn't it?" Dewey replied. "Mom wouldn't have gone to space if Uncle Scrooge hadn't built that rocket and Louie wouldn't have been poisoned if we hadn't been brought here. Everything points to our great-uncle."

"Not in this case! It's not as if Louie was forced to touch that stone and I really don't think that Uncle Scrooge would have brought us here if he had known how dangerous – Huey, what are you looking for?"

The sound of pages flipping filled the air, followed by a triumphant cry. Louie then felt a pair of hands pressing on parts of his body.

"I've just realised that Louie's not unconscious: he hasn't got any strength! I can't believe I forgot about that symptom, which comes before the loss of consciousness," Huey said. "There's a section on pressure points in the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook and there are some that are designed to boost energy levels! I don't know if it'll work because of the poison but we've got to try."

A glimmer of hope sparked within Louie. He wasn't particularly enjoying the sensation of Huey pressing on various parts of his body but if it at least gave him enough strength to open his eyes, then he was all for it.

"Do you need help finding the pressure points?" Dewey asked.

"The Guidebook has them all mapped out," Huey answered. "But I think we'll need to press them all at the same time so I will need your help."

"Of course," Webby said. Louie heard them approach and, after a pause in which he assumed was Dewey and Webby taking a look at Huey's book, he felt three pairs of hands on him.

"Ready?" Huey said.

"Ready," Dewey and Webby said in unison.

"On the count of three. One… Two… Three!"

They pressed down. It felt like an electric shock to Louie, as if someone had galvanised him with a live wire. He let out a gasp and snapped his eyes open, finding himself looking up at the hopeful faces of Huey, Dewey, and Webby. The hope made way for relief and the next thing Louie saw was a sea of red, blue, and pink engulf him as the other kids threw themselves onto him, pulling him into a tight hug.

"It worked! Thank goodness!" Webby exclaimed tearfully.

"Of course it did! The JWG is never wrong," Huey said in triumph.

"You really scared us, Louie," Dewey said as they pulled away. "We thought we lost you for a second."

"I'm aware," Louie replied quietly. His voice was a bit weak. "I heard the commotion."

"Even Mom blaming Uncle Scrooge for what happened to you?" Huey asked.

"And declaring that you're not going on any more adventures?" Webby added.

"Yeah. Speaking of Uncle Scrooge, where is he?" Louie said, glancing around the chamber.

"He's over there," Dewey told him, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. "Why do you ask?"

"I need to talk to him," Louie replied. If he was going to have any chance in reversing Della's decision, it was by talking to Scrooge. His mother needed to see that the green triplet did not hold his great-uncle responsible – only then might she consider changing her mind about adventuring.

"There's no need for you to talk to him," Dewey said stiffly. "Just lay back and take it easy."

"No," Louie said as firmly as he could muster. "I need to do this and I'm not going to explain myself to you. Help me up and don't say anything."

Dewey crossed his arms but Webby and Huey, after a quick glance at each other, gently pulled Louie to his feet. He swayed a little, steadied himself, and began to take slow steps towards his great-uncle. The usually short trek across the chamber seemed to take an eternity but Louie eventually reached Scrooge and pulled on his coat. The magnate turned around and his jaw dropped at the sight of his youngest grandnephew.

"Louie!" Scrooge cried. Donald and Della turned at the sound of the green triplet's name and simultaneously gasped.

"Louie!" Della exclaimed. She began to hurry towards him but Louie stopped her by raising a hand. She stared at him, a mixture of concern and confusion on her face.

"We thought you were unconscious, lad," Scrooge said quietly.

"I wasn't," Louie told him. "I lost all of my strength and couldn't open my eyes."

"But how are you standing now?"

"Pressure points are a beautiful thing!" Huey yelled, holding the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook over his head like a beacon.

Louie waved him down. He didn't know how long the energy boost would last so he had to be quick.

"Uncle Scrooge, listen…" Louie began. He then noticed that his legs were shaking in their attempt to hold his weight. Don't do this now, the green triplet thought.

"Why don't we sit down?" Scrooge suggested kindly.

"Yes, please," Louie replied. His great-uncle helped, making sure his grandnephew didn't collapse on the way down, before sitting down himself.

"What do you want to tell me?" Scrooge asked.

"I heard what was said earlier," Louie replied, looking at Scrooge in the eyes.

"Oh… I should have realised you did," the magnate said, glancing at the ground. He looked back at Louie. "Well, let's have it. If there's anyone who should chew me out, it's you."

"But that's the thing, Uncle Scrooge: I don't want to do that."

"You don't?"

Louie turned his head. Della was staring at him in surprise.

"No, I don't," he told her. He looked back at Scrooge. "I actually don't think it's fair to blame you."

"Really?" Scrooge said incredulously.

"Yes, really. It's not as if you grabbed my hand and stabbed it with that poisonous arrow now, is it?"

"No, of course not. I would never do that."

"And you wouldn't have brought us to this temple if you had known how dangerous it is, right?"

"Certainly not! The last thing I want is for you to be in serious danger!"

"There you have it. I've noticed that you usually study a place carefully before dragging us there," Louie said. "You're no slacker so there's no way that you failed to do the same for this temple."

"I read every piece of information I could find on this place and none of it mentioned how numerous and precarious these traps are. Obviously this temple hasn't been properly documented, something I should have realised much sooner," Scrooge said, glancing around the chamber with a frown.

"Huey can submit the information to the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook. That's his ultimate nerd dream," Louie said casually.

"I heard that!" Huey exclaimed in indignation.

"You were meant to," Louie mumbled. "You see all the angles like I do," he added aloud, "and leave nothing to chance. If those so-called experts left out important details about this temple, that's not your fault."

"I suppose you have a point there…" Scrooge said. Louie could detect traces of uncertainty in his great-uncle's tone. "I'm guessing this has put you off adventuring for good?"

"Are you kidding? Do you really think I'll miss out on getting more treasure? You're not getting rid of me that easily," Louie told him, raising an eyebrow.

Scrooge rolled his eyes, a small smile on his lips. "Then you'll be pleased to hear that we've found the treasure of this temple," the magnate informed him.

"Really? Where? I want in on it!" Louie exclaimed.

"Hold your horses, lad! We've got more pressing issues to deal with, remember?"

"Oh, fine. But I want to be able to swim in that gold when I'm cured: after everything I went through, I deserve it."

"We've got to figure out how to get it first. If we can't, I'll let you swim in my money bin. Deal?"

Louie pretended to think about it before allowing a smile to appear. "Deal," he said, holding out his hand. Scrooge shook it.

"What about us?" Webby asked. "Can we swim in your money, too?"

"I don't see why not. But you're not making a habit out of it: I'm only allowing it because these are special circumstances," Scrooge told her.

Huey and Webby high-fived each other while Dewey smiled faintly. His smile faded and he looked thoughtful for a moment before slowly approaching Louie and Scrooge, a hand on his arm.

"Uncle Scrooge, about earlier..." Dewey began awkwardly but Scrooge held up a hand.

"It's already forgotten, Dewey. Don't worry about it," the magnate told him gently.

Dewey threw his arms around his great-uncle's neck and Scrooge returned the embrace. Louie watched on until his brother reached over and grabbed him, pulling him into the hug with a sharp tug. The youngest triplet was squashed between Scrooge and Dewey, unable to breathe. Not wanting to disrupt the moment, Louie remained silent, hoping they would break apart soon.

They did, fortunately, and the green triplet inhaled deeply. He looked over at Donald and Della, who were standing motionless across the chamber.

"What do you think, Mom? Uncle Donald?" Louie asked. "Think we can forgive and move on?"

"I don't know…" Donald said.

"Come on, Uncle Donald. Let's not break the family apart for another ten years," Huey said.

"Yeah! And, frankly, I don't want to go back to living on the houseboat," Dewey added, earning himself a jab from Louie.

"Well… If it's that important for you kids, all right," Donald said, smiling.

"Yes!" Webby and Dewey exclaimed simultaneously.

Della wasn't responding. Louie gazed at her with worry.

"Mom?" he said uncertainly.

"I'll forgive," Della said, "but I'm not convinced I should let you boys continue going on adventures. I'll have to think about it."

Louie's heart sank. He hadn't seen his mother be this serious since their final confrontation with Bradford Buzzard. She didn't say she would make the adventure ban permanent but she didn't say she would relinquish it either. The green triplet hoped against all odds that Della would change her mind: the idea of being forbidden to go on adventures strongly reminded him of how Donald would almost never let him and his brothers off the house boat for the first decade of their lives. Louie didn't think he could handle that again.

Suddenly, as if he had been punctured, all of his energy left him. Louie fell back, avoiding hitting his head on the concrete thanks to Scrooge's intervention. The youngest triplet found himself staring up at the ceiling, every member of his family crowded around him.

"That didn't last as long as I had hoped," Huey said in disappointment.

"What happened? Why did he fall back like that?" Della asked, appearing panicked.

"Sapping of strength is one of the last symptoms of the poison. The energy boost we gave him has gone," Huey explained. "Or most of it, anyway."

"Can't you do that pressure point thing again?"

"Yes, but it can only be done once every hour. There's still some time left before we can do it again; are you able to hold on until then, Louie?"

"I'll… try," Louie replied. Even talking was draining.

"Time to get back to work," Webby declared. "We've almost got the entire chamber covered. We must be getting close!"

"You lot go on ahead. I'll stay here and keep an eye on Louie," Scrooge said. "I don't think he should be left unattended at this point."

"I agree. Let us know if anything changes immediately," Donald told his uncle, giving him a stern look.

"What, you think I'd keep it to myself?" Scrooge snapped. "Just go."

"We'll be back when it'll be time to do the pressure points again," Huey said. Dewey Webby nodded.

The family scattered. Scrooge took one of the backpacks and slipped it beneath Louie's head, for which the green triplet was grateful. Would he be able to remain awake until the others returned? Louie decided to focus on what was going on around him, to listen to every sound and to examine all that he could see from his vantage point. Keeping busy normally kept sleep at bay – maybe it would help him fight against the need to close his eyes this time, too.