Hey everyone! I'M SO SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER. I had planned to have this up in time for the solstice, but, as usual, things take so much longer than I mean them to, and now that was over a month ago! Still, a very happy summer (or winter, for those of you in the southern hemisphere) to you! May the longer nights lead me to write more often ;)

So before I start, I feel I should clarify for now and future readers that I started writing this during the hiatus between "The Impossible Summit of Mount Neverrest!" and "The Spear of Selene!", so that's what I was working with when I outlined most of this story. Anywho, I literally just finished watching "The Secret(s) of Castle McDuck!" (when I was 90% done writing this chapter), so I've decided that this story begins right before that episode. From that point on, this story is going to split from the show's timeline. "The Last Crash of the Sunchaser!" aired while I was in the editing phase, so even though we know the answer to the Della mystery now, I'm still gonna stick with my original plan for it, although I may tweak it a bit to make it a little closer to canon. Also, if you go back, I've changed some things to better fit the timeline that the show has given us (as well as fixing a few other details) to still make it possible to have Huey, Dewey, and Louie's birthday in the not-so-distant future if I decide to do so.

All right, I've blathered long enough. Here is the next chapter of my DuckTales story, to which I definitely do not own the rights.

Chapter 4 ~ D-D-D-Danger Lurks behind You!

Although Huey didn't want to say it out loud, he was proud of Louie for having gotten their uncle to divulge more information than he already had. Huey'd asked Uncle Donald everything from how magic worked to where it came from and why he was so very against it, but he'd never received more than a sigh and a sharp "Huey, please,". It had been frustrating to say the very least, but he'd figured his uncle probably had his reasons. Still, Louie'd had a point, too: Didn't they have the right to know about these things that, apparently, were very relevant to them?

Louie'd recounted a few words that he was able to remember from their uncle's mysterious clipboard, which Huey had rightly assumed to be in Latin while with him earlier. He'd look them up later, but the ones he recognized were pretty much what he'd been expecting.

Malum.

Ignes.

Temporos.

Magica.

Dolores.

Speculis.

Gelos.

Ilex.

Somnos.

"And… and something with a 'Q'," Louie'd said, trying to recall. "He said it had something to do with your oak allergy."

"Probably Quercus, then," Webby'd added, fervently making notes.

"Yeah, that," he'd said. "Hey Huey, did you know you were allergic to oak?"

He hadn't. It was strange to think he had an allergy of which he'd never been aware. He'd climbed countless oak trees in his years as a Woodchuck, and even their pollen had never so much as made him sneeze. He'd made teas from oak leaves and salves from the bark in order to earn his 'Arboreal Survivalist' merit badge. While working on his 'Alternative Pâtissiere' badge, he'd made an acorn flour croustade. He couldn't think of a reason that Louie or Uncle Donald would lie about something this mundane, though, so he supposed that that had to prove magic was real.

Magic is real. He almost laughed aloud as he thought the words to himself. He'd been so excited by his great uncle's declaration, made even more believable by his other uncle's discomfort and obvious irritation, that he hadn't even thought about how improbable it had seemed at the time. Magical things had definitely happened to them before, but it had always seemed so discrete: Magical things happened around magical creatures or magical objects on magical adventures. Sure, he'd been mildly concerned that he'd happened to pick up a nightmare curse somewhere along the way, and yes, their butler was, in fact, a ghost. But the idea of magic being something real and practicable that could exist and be manipulated within his everyday life? Huey's logical mind had never even considered the possibility.

"You know, Webby," Dewey said, interrupting Huey's train of thought and her continued grilling of Louie, "I have to say, as exciting as today has been, we've been living here for literally months. I'm a little hurt you lied to us for so long."

"I didn't really lie to you, per se" she said, shrinking back with a guilty look on her face.

"He's got a point; you kind of did," Louie said.

"Is omitting something really lying though?" she asked.

"Definitely."

"Yep."

"Well, technically, no," Huey allowed, "but it is a deception."

"Deception!" Dewey declared dramatically. Laughter bubbled out of Huey and Louie as he pointed at her in mock outrage.

"Guys, I'm sorry!" she said, voice breaking. "I'm so sorry, I wanted t—"

"Webby, chill, it's fine," Louie said to her. "We're just messing with you."

"You're… you are?" she asked. She no longer looked like she might break out into tears, but she still seemed uncertain.

"Yeah, it's just a thing that family does," Dewey said.

"Yep," Huey added. "Honestly, I'm most worried about Louie when he's not bothering me all day."

"My wrath knows no bounds," the youngest triplet joked. His brothers laughed and Webby sighed with relief.

"Something family doesn't do, though" Huey continued, "is lie to each other. No more secrets either, okay? We already have enough of those in our life."

Webby looked nervously at Dewey before nodding and giving a wide smile. Huey wouldn't have even noticed it if it hadn't been for his brother's small head shake and the immediate drumming of feathers that began on the tiled hearth of the fireplace beside him. It was something Dewey always did when he was deep in thought. Huey made a mental note to ask him about it later.

"I wanted to tell you right away, really," she said, "but when I asked Granny she told me I wasn't supposed to talk about it under any circumstances, or else. It was almost a year before even Mr. McDuck knew that I knew."

"But why lie and tell us Scrooge hates magic?"

"Oh, but Ah do hate magic," a voice echoed into the room. When the children turned they saw the three adults of the household standing in the doorway. Beakley was holding the staff with Uncle Donald standing close behind Uncle Scrooge, hand on his wing and watching him warily. When Huey looked closer, he noticed his great uncle was wearing the Sorcerer's Hat and that his trademark cane was nowhere to be seen.

"Ah hate stage magic and parlour tricks. Ah cannae stand lucky charms and bewitchèd blades. And dinnae get me started on those lousy skivers what use magic tae cheat their ways out of a hard day's work!" Uncle Scrooge's words bounced around the salon strangely, and Huey noticed a force behind them that couldn't possibly have come from the elder drake himself. His voice seemed clearer than usual, and Huey felt nearly compelled to listen to every word that came out of his great uncle's bill. "But this?" Scrooge said, touching the hat absently and turning to the boys with a wild grin on his face. "This here takes study, and effort, and ever so many hours of practice! This be no fools' illusion, me boys. This is real magic!"

Once again, Huey felt himself so giddy he didn't quite know how to organize his thoughts. It only took a quick glance at Dewey and Louie to notice his brothers didn't quite seem to share in their great uncle's enthusiasm with him, but as far as he was concerned, nothing could be more exciting! The idea of learning magic from both a theoretical and practical standpoint, unlocking skills which could only be achieved through hours upon hours of reading, was a dream come true.

"Beakley!" Scrooge said, spinning again to now face her. "The staff! Come now, it's high time we do this! Ah am ready!"

"Uncle Scrooge, take three deep breaths," Donald said, again placing his hand on the elder duck. "Can you do that for me?"

"Ach, Ah'm fine!" he said, pulling back, "Feel great, actually. Better than Ah have in years. Let's get this started! Ah've been rehearsing for o'er a month now."

"Wait, get what started?" Dewey asked.

"Yeah," said Louie, "I thought we were done here."

"One more to go, lads," he said, grinning again.

"Uncle Scrooge, three breaths," Donald said, grabbing his uncle by both wrists. "I know what you're feeling right now, but I need you to focus, okay?"

"But, wait, why is Uncle Scrooge doing it?" Huey asked. It didn't seem to make sense considering everything they'd learned so far.

"Yeah, I thought you said the relic thingie didn't work for you," Dewey added.

"It's this fantastic hat," said Scrooge, pulling away from his nephew. Donald shot him a cold look and Uncle Scrooge rolled his eyes before closing them and slowly drawing in a deep breath.

"The Hat of Yen Sid boosts one's magical potential hundredfold," Uncle Donald said, turning to face his nephews once he seemed satisfied their great uncle was centring himself. "Most people find it a little… overwhelming their first time."

"Wait, it's his first time ever doing legit magic?" Louie asked, whispering. "Shouldn't you be doing this, Uncle Donald?"

"Ah can hear you," Uncle Scrooge said. A wry smile now sat on his face but he seemed otherwise to have calmed down. Still, the aura of power emanating from him and the sense of authority behind his every echoed word remained very much present. Huey wondered how Uncle Donald had managed to keep himself more-or-less in check earlier.

"Don't ye think yer uncle deserves a break?" Scrooge asked, trying to look serious again. He was only mildly successful.

"Well, yeah, sure, but, like, I mean, didn't you say it's just one more spell?" Dewey asked. "And also couldn't you just do it tomorrow?"

"This happens to be a very important one," Scrooge started, "and furthermor—"

"I can't say your names properly," Donald interjected, then looked down. He sighed. "This spell needs me to clearly state your full names, and I can't do that. This one just won't work if I spit my way through it."

Huey and his brothers all stifled a laugh, and he was pretty sure Mrs. Beakley did, too. Still, he felt bad about it pretty immediately. Uncle Donald had struggled with being understood for as long as Huey could remember, and he could tell by the dispirited look on his face how very much this fact bothered him.

"So how have you been doing it all this time?" Webby asked. "Even the most long-lived of spells can't sustain themselves more than a few years! Is this a new one? Why would you construct a spell you wouldn't be able to cast?"

Donald flinched, looked at his nephews, and then sighed for what felt to Huey like the thousandth time that day. "Well… ," he said, hesitantly, "I didn't. This spell isn't mine. It's Della's."

"Mom's?" Dewey asked. Huey wanted to say something, but as always when the subject of their mother came up, his brain never seemed to let him find the questions he so badly wanted answered. Louie didn't seem to react at all.

"Aye," Uncle Scrooge said. "A person's true name is their most easily exploitable weakness, and dear Della never wanted anyone to be able tae use yours against ye."

"So that's why it's lasted so long," Webby said, moving to pull out her notepad and pencil before catching the sharp look Mrs. Beakley sent her way. "'Mother's love' is supposed to be one of the most potent intents in magic! But still," she said, not noticing the uneasy feeling that was settling in the room, "a decade must be nearly a record!"

"Just about," Uncle Donald muttered, looking at the three of them as if to see how they were reacting to Webby's assertions.

Huey really wanted to ask a question. Actually, he wanted to ask about a billion questions. But the problem, as always when it came to her, was that he couldn't quite find the words to express what he so desperately wanted to know, and every time he thought he'd strung together a query it would vanish like dust in the wind as soon as he went to open his bill.

The sound of Dewey's feathers drumming on the tiled floor continued, but otherwise the middle triplet seemed neutral towards the situation.

"So, can we just get this over with then?" Louie asked, breaking the awkward silence that was beginning to feel substantial. "Some of us have plans today."

"Oh?" Donald asked, looking at his youngest nephew as if he were trying to peer directly into his soul.

"Yeah, the circus is in town, so we were gonna go," said Louie, returning his uncle's intense stare. Huey remembered Dewey mentioning said circus last week, for which Webby had been very excited but Louie had seemed neither here nor there about. He was glad for the change of topic, though.

"Well then, we would never want tae deny you bairns a day at the circus, now would we, Donald?" he smirked at his nephew, who only raised his eyebrows. "What do you say? Am I ready?"

Uncle Donald looked nervously at them again before sighing and gesturing for Mrs. Beakley to give the Relic of Hollow Bastion to Uncle Scrooge. Scrooge took it gingerly from her hands and the orange orb lit up like a light bulb while the lilac wings began to rhythmically flap. Huey never thought he would hear his great uncle giggle, but there was no other way to describe the sound Scrooge McDuck made when the staff came alive for him. Uncle Donald quickly moved to wrap a hand around the staff as well and it instantly calmed to a still, softly glowing object once more.

"Ah know, Ah know," Scrooge said, barely masking the eager tone in his voice. "Ah have to focus. Rein it in," he inhaled and exhaled slowly. "Ah dinnae have tae do anything but hold the thing, aye?"

"Yes, it's really the words that matter here," Donald said, letting go and taking a step back. He nodded in approval when the relic's appearance remained subdued. "Just speak slowly and let the staff do its job."

"All right," he nodded. Scrooge coughed to clear his throat. "Lads, if ye wouldnae mind, could ye come stand in a line for me?"

Before Huey even noticed, he was halfway to where his great uncle wanted him to be, and he couldn't help but gasp as one foot moved in front of the other without him telling them to do so. He didn't remember getting up off the floor.

"Woah, holy—what the heck?" Louie squeaked, shaking his head as he came out of the same stupor Huey had just been in. "Stop it!"

Dewey looked kind of off-balance as he staggered forward, Huey thought, as if he were actually having some amount of success in resisting their great uncle's unintentional command. Even so, before long they were all standing next to each other in front of him.

"Uncle Scrooge!" Donald yelled accusatorially, grabbing for the staff yet again. Scrooge dropped it like it had burned him.

"Ah'm sorry!" he said, the look of shock plain on his face. "Ah'm sorry, I really am, Ah didnae mean to!" he apologized repeatedly, and Huey felt completely under his own power again. Unlike his brothers, he had never experienced anything like that before, and he sincerely hoped he never would again. Louie stumbled backwards immediately, as if he had been fighting to move the entire time, and Dewey had to catch him to keep him from hitting the ground.

"Don't ever do that again," Huey snapped, turning to see if his youngest brother needed help. Louie, looking embarrassed, had pushed Dewey away and was again standing on his own with his hands shoved into his pocket.

"Ah won't, Ah swear, Ah didnae mean to! It was an accident. Ah'm so sorry boys," Scrooge said, looking down at his hands. "Curse me kilts, that's a lot of power. Ah dinnae ken me own strength."

"Webby, I think it's time for us to go," Mrs. Beakley said abruptly, moving the grab her granddaughter from where she was still sitting on the floor, amazement clear on her face. "This is a family matter."

"But Granny—"

"Oh come on, let her stay," Louie said.

"Yeah," said Dewey, "Webby basically is family."

"And we're just gonna tell her about everything the happens, anyway," Huey added.

"Fine by me," Scrooge said, looking at the girl fondly. "Just so long as ye sit still and keep quiet, lass."

"Yes sir, Mr—Uncle Scrooge, sir!" Webby said, practically skipping over to the couch. Mrs. Beakley huffed and leaned against the door frame.

"That goes double for you, boys," Uncle Donald said, tentatively handing the staff back to Scrooge. Huey let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding when nothing visually seemed to happen. "Uncle Scrooge needs to get through this in one go; no interruptions, and try not to move too much. Magic is delicate."

"Yes, Uncle Donald," they said together.

"Now let's get this over with," Louie said.

"Actually, Louie," said Scrooge, "Ah need ye tae come stand over on this end, beside Huey."

"Huh? Why?" he asked.

"That's the order Ah have tae do it," he said simply.

"That was always how she said it," Uncle Donald said quietly, smiling wistfully. "Louie, Huey, and Dewey."

"Oh," Louie said, looking at the ground, "Well, okay then." He moved to stand beside Huey, but not before awkwardly shuffling in place for a bit. Huey knew him well enough to figure Louie was probably waiting to see whether or not he had a choice in the matter before deciding to do as he was asked.

"Perfect, thank you," Scrooge nodded. "All right, here goes, well, everything," he said, laughing a little. Huey figured he was probably trying to lighten to mood and make them feel better. It didn't; not really.

Beakley moved quickly to draw the blinds and light a few candle sconces around the room. The fire he and Webby had started earlier was still burning low in the fireplace, and Huey was grateful for it's familiar, soothing scent filling the room.

"Now," said Uncle Scrooge, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Uncle Donald was close behind him, eyes shifting periodically between his uncle and his nephews. Scrooge tightened his grip on the relic and snapped his eyes open. "Let's begin.

"Llewellyn Quackmore Duck

Hubert Fergus Duck

Dewford Dingus Duck

"I name thee one by three and three by one.

I give these names to you and they are yours and yours alone.

May none ever use these gifts of mine against you,

And may all who endeavour to do so find their endeavours turned to dust.

May you draw strength from your names as you do one another.

One by three and three by one; to each child from their mother."

Huey had wanted to roll his eyes when he saw Louie visibly cringe at the sound of his full name. He figured he was being overdramatic about how old-fashioned it was, as usual. However, when his own 'true name' left their great uncle's beak, Scrooge briefly making eye contact with him, it felt like a bolt of pure energy had hit him in the chest, continuing throughout his body to the tip of each and every one of his feathers, all the way to the ends of his toes and the edge of his bill. He swayed, slightly dizzy, and it took a desperate look from Uncle Donald to keep Huey from losing his cool. It wasn't exactly a painful feeling, he thought, so much as it was… overwhelming. The pulsing sensation persisted until his great uncle finished reciting the rehearsed words, which Huey could barely hear over the buzzing in his head. Even when it was over, he could feel a faint tingling, as if he were acutely aware of each and every feather brushing against one another. Nothing Uncle Donald had done thus far that morning had prepared him for the way this felt, and Huey found it difficult to entirely collect his thoughts in its wake.

"Woah," Dewey muttered faintly, awe in his small voice. "That was so intense."

"Yeah," Huey and Louie said. Huey couldn't seem to come up with much more at the moment.

"Tell me about it! Ah cannae believe I—, I—," Scrooge stammered, eyes fluttering. Uncle Donald moved quickly to grab the elder drake before his legs gave out from under him.

"I figured that would happen, too," Donald said, smiling fondly. It was only then that Huey really noticed that the bags under his eyes were noticeably darker and more pronounced than usual. "Magic is exhausting. Mrs. B, will you help me get him to bed?"

"Ah'm fine," Scrooge said blearily, "Ah dinnae—"

Uncle Donald swiftly slipped the strange hat off their great uncle's head and Uncle Scrooge collapsed further into his wings, already snoring softly. Huey was fascinated to notice that the relic now looked like a cheap replica in his hand.

"Once we get Uncle Scrooge tucked in, I'll be right back to talk to you about this," Uncle Donald said, looking worriedly at the boys. "About everything."

"Nah, Uncle D, if it's all right with you, we really gotta get to that circus if we don't wanna miss it," Louie said.

"Really?" Uncle Donald asked, again staring at the youngest triplet keenly. He then looked expectantly to Huey, as if expecting him to contradict his brother.

Huey was still just having a hard time clearing his head enough to form words.

"Yeah, it's leaving town after this evening's performance. Can we just talk tonight?" Louie said.

"Well, okay," Uncle Donald relented only once Scrooge tried to shift his weight in his wings. "But we are talking tonight, I promise. Just," he paused, taking a minute to make eye contact with each of them as he spoke, "Just don't be home too late. Stick together and promise me you'll be safe."

"Uncle D, you've literally spent the last four hours making sure nothing bad could ever happen to us," Louie said, moving to help pull Webby off the couch. "What could you possibly have to worry about?"

"Louie, why were you in such a rush to go?" Webby asked him. "I didn't think you even cared about the circus."

"Yeah," Dewey said, "Uncle Donald was actually going to give us some answers for once."

"I know," Louie said simply. "That's why I needed to get out of there."

"What do you mean?" Huey asked.

"It's just… ," he trailed off, looking far off into the distance, "I dunno, it's just information overload today, you know?"

"Not really," said Webby.

Louie chuckled, "I mean, I don't know about you guys, but I feel like I've learned some serious freaking secrets today, and there were some pretty dang intense moments in there, and I, for one, would like a little bit of time to process these revelations before another dozen or so truth bombs get dropped on our heads."

There was a brief pause while the rest of the kids considered Louie's words. "Yeah," Dewey finally said. "Yeah, I guess that's fair."

"But why the circus?" Huey asked him. He didn't entirely agree with Louie's viewpoint, but he totally understood why his little brother would feel that way.

Louie shrugged, "Webby and Dewey were really excited to check it out. Besides, we'll see if I can't con my way into a handful of carny jackpots while I'm there," he said, a mischievous glimmer in his eye.

Huey smiled while the others started talking over one another about what they planned to do once they reached the Duckburg Fairgrounds. He looked up to the cloudless, cerulean sky and enjoyed the sweetness in the air as he took in a deep, cleansing breath. While he was nearly boiling over with curiosity for what their uncle wanted to tell them, he decided he would enjoy every moment of this carefree outing. Sometimes, it was nice to just be kids.

"That. Was. Incredible!" Webby shouted as they exited the Big Top, her fists clenched in joy. "We need to come to the circus all the time!"

"I know, right?" Dewey asked. "Did you see those tigers?"

"I still can't believe the stupid midway only gives out caramel corn and candy apples as prizes," Louie moped, absently nibbling on the cotton candy he had won at ring toss.

"At least we didn't have to pay for any of our snacks today," Huey said, finishing off his slushie. "And those mimes were absolute artists!"

"Yeah, I especially liked when they went to war with the clowns," Webby said.

"Say what now?" asked Louie.

"You know, that part where the clowns lead the chimpanzees in the peaceful revolt to free the elephants from their oppressive mime overlords!" she said, all but squealing. "Why? What was your favourite part?"

The boys couldn't help but laugh. "You know what, Webby?" Huey said, still chuckling. "That was my favourite part, too." All in all, their carnival day had been a huge success. Huey's face almost hurt from having smiled so much, and his stomach was bursting with victory treats. He was sure he'd regret that later, but that was 'Future Huey''s problem. For the time being, he couldn't imagine being more content.

Of course, he should have known that meant that it was never going to last.

"Well, well, well, what have we here?" said a familiar voice from behind them. Huey was the first to spin around, coming face to face with Big Time Beagle less than five feet away, backed by more than a dozen other Beagle Boys. Even though Huey knew that they had beaten these thugs countless times, there hadn't been this many of them since they had kidnapped Lena after the girls had crashed Ma Beagle's birthday. The four children steeled themselves together, Dewey and Webby dropping their sweets to the ground while they assumed what the boys hoped was a battle stance. Thinking back on the morning, Huey smiled. He was riding a high of magical invulnerability and an entire bag of powdered mini doughnuts, and wasn't even mildly concerned about their chances. He knew for a fact that they could do this.

Still, he couldn't help it when the next words out of Big Time's mouth made his heart race and his blood run cold.

"Ma says the rest don't matter none, boys!" he snarled, baring his teeth. "Grab the red one."

Okay, wow, finally, there it is! Hope you guys enjoyed! Next chapter is where things really start to pick up. I can't promise it'll come quickly, but it'll definitely come faster than this one did.

Bonus points in this chapter are for the boys' middle names and why I had Della say their names in a different order than, well, literally everyone else says them.

Also, how freaking amazing was "The Last Crash of the Sunchaser!"? I still can't even really process it; I think I'll have to watch it another dozen times or so first.

Okay, that's all for now folks. Remember, reviews make the world go round!