For a minute, Webby faltered. She couldn't piece together reality and wasn't sure she wanted to. Magica had won. Her steps flagged and she crashed to her knees. Magica had won and Webby...no. She wasn't the type to give up without a fight. True, she didn't know how to combat this new opponent, but she would figure it out. She scooped herself back up and glanced at the adults. With the triplets missing, she was the only child here.

The curse over her vision had lifted, but she would have rather been impaired than without the boys. Donald looked stunned, Scrooge had recovered from his shock and progressed to anger, and Goldie looked baffled.

"You really care about those kids, don't you?" Goldie said quietly to Scrooge.

"Of course I do!" he bristled. "They're me grandnephews!"

They were also all he had left of Della, but he wasn't going to say that. Webby stared at the smoking cottage, glad that they'd left the younger Scrooge behind but aware he probably wouldn't stay there. Her mind raced, trying to think of where Magica might be hiding. It was time to take the fight to her.

If she were an evil sorceress bent on revenge and on hurting Scrooge the worst way possible, but also in the past with them (because who else would've set the cottage on fire?), where would she be? Webby froze. They'd left the younger Scrooge back in the cottage. She yelped.

"We left the younger Scrooge with the dime!" she exclaimed.

"Of course I didn't," Scrooge said dismissively. "I'm not that daft, lass. I have it right here."

Out of his coat pocket, he pulled the dime. The other dime he still wore about his neck. Webby tried to piece together what had happened. Magica had thought the younger Scrooge was home and set it on fire-she must have gone to the mine and discovered him missing. However, she hadn't bothered to check the cottage.

How long would Magica linger until she realized her prey wasn't in there? They needed to return to Goldie's cottage now. Or, wait…

They had halted in the middle of the road and she turned to Scrooge again. "Does Magica know about Goldie?"

"You sharing me with all of your enemies, Scroogie?" Goldie asked and looked amused. Her eyebrows were raised. "How generous of you."

"Of course she doesn't know about her! And even if she does, she wouldn't know where Goldie's cottage is or know why we might be staying there."

Webby's heart, which had begun to race, slowed. It was odd and unsettling to look about and not see the triplets, but they had bigger concerns. They had to fix the timeline-it had gone wrong enough as it was. Without the triplets, she felt more like an outsider, although Donald was eying her like she might disappear next and he was determined to keep that from happening. She appreciated the thought.

"There aren't that many cottages around here," Goldie pointed out. "She'll figure it out by process of elimination."

"There's also the saloon," Scrooge replied.

Meanwhile, Donald pulled Webby aside. It was one the few times, if not the first time, that she could recall having a private conversation with him. A little bit of her natural fangirlishness poked its head and she squashed it. Now was not the time to squeal over having a conversation with the Donald Duck.

"And there's a small town nearby," Scrooge said and Donald cleared his throat to catch Webby's attention.

"Are you okay?" Donald said in an undertone.

"What do you mean?" It occurred to her a few seconds later that such a response was abnormal.

"The boys…" Donald looked crushed thinking about the triplets and Webby patted him on the shoulder. Donald suddenly swept her up into a tight embrace that left her stunned.

"I'm glad you're still here," he said. "The boys care a lot about you. I'll try to keep you safe while we get them back."

Webby smiled, relieved both at him releasing her and pleased by his words. She squeaked and then flushed, embarrassed at her own enthusiasm. Donald gave her a strange look and her smile turned into a look of chagrin. Oops. She'd spent her life studying up on Scrooge and his family. How could she not be a little excited when the great adventurer Donald Duck hugged her?

"Now. Tell me what happened," he ordered.

Webby started at the beginning and how they'd been pursuing a treasure in a hidden cave on a mountain when they were caught in an avalanche. She went on to explain they'd been separated and given different disabilities, like a twisted version of "hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil" and "the lame leading the blind". Donald's frown increased hearing how the boys had suffered; she knew he was incensed that Magica had literally broken Louie's leg.

From there, she went on to describe how they'd ended up back in time, found Goldie, and then located Scrooge's past self, trapped in a gold mine. After that, she brought him completely up to speed and Donald scowled, glowering at Scrooge.

"This isn't my fault," Scrooge protested. "How was I supposed to know Magica would strike?"

"You put the kids in danger!" he objected. "And they could've gotten seriously hurt. Louie was seriously hurt. Now they're not even here, except for Webby. How could you have let this happen?"

"I dinnae let anything 'happen'," Scrooge objected. "It just...happened."

Donald scowled, unmoved by this defense.

"And it donnae matter, lad. We're all stuck here, so we might as well figure out how to get home," Scrooge said. "What's been going on in the present?"

Donald told them about Glomgold becoming the richest duck in the world, Mrs. Beakley quitting, Team Science joining them, and corralling Launchpad into assisting. He went from there to describe the DT-87 going crazy and their last-ditch plan to bring Donald into the fold to head back into time with the clock to fix things. Donald surmised, and Webby had no reason to believe he was wrong, that Glomgold had destroyed the clock in the present to prevent them from returning.

"So, we need to prevent Magica from destroying the past to restore the present," Scrooge said.

"And avoid creating a paradox," Webby added.

"I know a thing or two about time travel," Scrooge scoffed. "I think I can handle this."

"You'd better," Donald muttered.

"Are ye questioning me?" Scrooge demanded.

"Of course not," Donald said, rolling his eyes at his uncle.

"You said there's a small town nearby," Webby said to forestall an argument. "We should check on the younger Scrooge and then head there. Magica's probably in the saloon."

"Aye," Scrooge said, taking his gaze off Donald. "We should."

They walked in silence for a while, each lost in his or her own thoughts. Webby's beak still tingled from the kiss and she wished, though she knew it would have had no impact, that she'd held Louie tighter. He would have vanished either way due to Magica's meddling, but that didn't stop her from wishing he was still here. At least no one seemed to have noticed Louie kissing her or if they had, they weren't discussing it.

She hugged herself; the day was warm, yet she felt chilled from within.

Up ahead, the town loomed. The sky above it was dark like it presaged a thunderstorm, and Webby's heart clenched. It almost felt like there was an imperceptible gloom that threatened them; a tightness in her chest and a dry mouth she couldn't quite explain. Nonetheless determined, she decided to ignore that and the way her stomach flip-flopped. She wasn't scared. She was Webbigail Vanderquack and that sorceress was going to pay (again) for taking the people she cared about away from her.

"Just how many enemies do you have, old man?" Goldie asked in a conversational tone as if she were immune to the pall hanging over them.

"It's not like I've counted them!" Scrooge huffed, indignant. Webby rolled her eyes and looked to one of the triplets for a comment. A beat later, she remembered they weren't there. It was like a kick in the stomach.

"Give me a rough estimate," she replied.

"Too many to count! He's probably offended people he hasn't met yet," Donald chimed in and Scrooge glowered at Donald.

"Betrayed! By my own nephew!"

"Actually, it depends on how you define 'enemy'. Magica de Spell and the de Spell Clan have been feuding with the McDucks for generations. Then there's Flintheart Glomgold, who's a business competitor and has really elaborate plots to kill Uncle Scrooge that fail miserably. Then there's Mark Beaks, who's another business competitor but not a direct threat to him. Then you have the Beagle Boys, that are always trying to steal Scrooge's money…"

Webby trailed off, realizing no one was paying any attention. Here was another reason to miss the boys. No matter that Louie probably wouldn't have cared and Dewey would've been raring to go attack Magica, not to mention Huey boning up on trivia related to the JWG, they would have paid attention to her. Here, was one voice among four and since the adults were arguing, she fell by the wayside. Webby sighed.

They hadn't checked on younger Scrooge first, as they had planned, and Webby hoped that he was all right. Somehow, without speaking, they had decided to change their plans.

The saloon proprietor stared at them as they entered. Scrooge glared at the others to keep them from jumping in and said, "Donnae worry. I'll handle this."

In the corner of the room, a figure dressed in black knocked back shot after shot of something. The acrid tang of alcohol stung her nose and Donald put a hand on her shoulder.

"Isn't she a little young to be in here?" the saloon proprietor said. He was an overweight Irish setter with floppy ears and a gun tucked into his belt. As this was the wild west, Webby wasn't surprised to see it, nor did she feel particularly threatened by it. Guns were a fact of life in these days...and most states in the present, too.

"She's with me," Scrooge said dismissively. "What can ye tell me about a black-haired sorceress that might've been seen around these parts?"

"You mean that one?" the proprietor said, pointing to the corner where that shadowy figure perched. She seemed too deep in her cups to notice them. At least, Webby hoped that was it. There was every chance that, if it was Magica, then she was feigning an incapacity to lull them into a false sense of hope. Nonetheless, the only reason Webby didn't rush over there was because of Donald's hand on her shoulder. If it had been one of the triplets, she wouldn't have paid much attention to it. Donald was another matter altogether. If the legendary Donald Duck, whose temper almost superseded his treasure hunting, was preaching caution, then she had better listen.

"That can't be her," Donald hissed when Scrooge returned to the group. "That'd be way too easy."

"Especially if she's just sitting there, doing nothing," Webby agreed.

The sense of impending doom that had been lurking threatened to spill over and the gas lights flickered in the saloon. Scrooge walked, with Donald and Webby at his side, toward the corner booth. There, the occupant looked up and smiled, throwing back her hood.

"You'll have to try harder than that, Scroogie," Magica crooned and disappeared in a flash of smoke. Donald's hand left Webby's shoulder and he squawked, his temper mounting. He was hopping and up down in agitation. Goldie approached at a languid pace.

"Of course," Scrooge said darkly. "I should have known it wouldn't be that easy."

"What now?" Goldie asked.

"We need to check on my younger self," Scrooge said. "From there, we wing it. She knows we're onto her. That'll make her careless."

Webby wasn't so sure about that. She'd predicted they'd find her in the saloon and then dispersed, if she'd even been here in the first place and not an illusion. Donald growled at the empty booth.

Where else would Magica have gone, if not to the gold mine or Scrooge's cottage? She knew by now that the younger Scrooge didn't have the dime, didn't she? Or did she lack a way to track it beyond assuming it was on Scrooge's person? Webby chewed the inside of her cheek thoughtfully.

"Are you sure she doesn't know about Goldie?" Webby pressed as they left the saloon.

"I cannae say I am, but what does it matter?"

"Does anyone around here know where she lives?" Webby pressed.

"Curse me kilts," Scrooge huffed, his version of an oath. "We'd better get back to the cottage."

Aside from Goldie's cottage, she couldn't think of anywhere that Magica would care to lurk in the past. Magica would want to ensure that Scrooge couldn't interfere with her plans in the future, too, which meant eliminating him now, before he became an obstacle. And that meant she'd have to check the cottages, one by one, unless she asked around. Even if Scrooge had been discreet in the present, he wasn't necessarily discreet in the past. Magica was bound to have connected the dots.

It looked like they were headed for a showdown, which was fine with Webby. The sorceress had hidden from them for long enough.

Webby, as it turned out, was right. Scrooge had been less than discreet in his dalliances in the past and most people knew he and Goldie were working together. It was a simple matter of following the breadcrumbs to Goldie's house and then, from there, tracking down the younger Scrooge. He was unconscious on Goldie's bed and Magica grinned. The old coot was ripe for the taking.

But where was the dime? It wasn't around his neck and it wasn't stuffed into a coat pocket. There were other places it could be, of course, but she wasn't about to stick her hand just anywhere. Plus, to her magical senses, she couldn't detect the dime anywhere. Stripping him to search wouldn't just be repulsive, it'd be counterproductive.

Vexed with herself for being stymied again, she looked at her staff. She'd recovered it, albeit broken, from an annoying sabrewing. It'd taken a while to mend in its amulet form and had required her feeding magic into it, but she was proud of the result. She could see, swirling in the orb, company coming. She grinned. That would be the panacea to her problems. And with two Scrooges running around, she'd be able to wield twice the power from his lucky dime. She rubbed her palms together with glee. She couldn't wait.

They returned to the cottage to check on the younger Scrooge. As they approached the door, they discovered it ajar and Webby's heart kicked up. She stormed inside, followed by Donald on her heels and Scrooge, with Goldie bringing up the rear. Donald was hopping mad and Webby snarled at the sorceress sitting on the bed beside the younger Scrooge. She wasn't doing anything, though it was apparent she'd ransacked his clothes for the missing dime. Scrooge scoffed.

"Looking for something, Magica?" he taunted and removed the second dime from his coat pocket.

"What did you do with Huey, Dewey, and Louie?" Webby snapped. "Where are they?"

"Oh, them," Magica said, though her gaze was fixed hungrily on the dime dangling on its chain between Scrooge's fingers. "They've ceased to exist. What a tragedy, Della never survived long enough to have children.

"Now give me the dime."

"Why the blazes should I do that?" Scrooge snarled. "You offed my niece, you ruined my future, you maimed my nephews and their sister, and now you expect me to just stand here and hand you the dime?"

Magica leveled a stare at him. "I would like that, yes. Or would you prefer to live in a world without Della and her sons?"

"That'll happen regardless," he snapped. "I donnae know what kind of spell you wrought, Magica, but this needs to end now."

"I agree," she said and then dove for the dime. He twirled the necklace on his fingers and stepped back. Donald was snarling, but Webby guessed he wasn't about to hit a girl. Webby didn't feel similarly. When Magica stepped forward again, Webby punched her in the face.

"You took away someone I cared about again," she snapped. "Just so you can have Scrooge's dime. You don't even need it. You hurt Huey, Dewey, and Louie because you could. You're evil!"

"Yes," Magica said, stepping back and regarding Webby coolly. "I was quite aware of my alignment. As for losing a loved one, Lena was never real and it looks like the brats weren't real either."

Webby's shadow wavered and Magica's eyes narrowed. Webby's heart skipped a beat and she ignored the strange adrenaline rushing through her. Instead, she put it to better use, sweeping Magica off her feet. The sorceress rolled, springing back up.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right now," Magica snapped. "You're an annoying thorn in my side. You're the reason Lena took forever to steal the dime and why I had to possess her to do it. You're the reason I lost. I see no reason for sparing your life. It won't even affect the timeline."

Scrooge knocked her staff out of her grip and it went flying with Magica hastening to catch it.

"You do realize that without my being the richest duck in the world, ye would have no reason to take the dime?" Scrooge said softly. "That that dime represented an opportunity to me? Ye're creating a paradox, Magica."

Magica looked temporarily stymied. "No, no, I'm not."

She raised her staff again and Webby wrenched it out of her grip and struck her in the face with it. In her hands, the staff glowed and grew warm to the touch. Her shadow was definitely moving out of sync now and that distraction nearly cost her dearly. Magica wrenched the staff away and focused on Webby's shadow as if it were an insect she intended to obliterate from the face of the earth.

"She's supposed to be dead," Magica snapped.

"Wait, what?" Scrooge said, baffled at this random change in conversation topic. Goldie edged into the room, though she looked like she wasn't about to spring into action. Like Scrooge, she remained confused.

Webby also had no idea what Magica was talking about, but that wasn't the point. Magica was distracted. She had an iron grip on the staff and Webby yanked on it; the staff was growing almost too hot to touch now. Webby focused her will on it. She'd never really dabbled in magic before, aside from the friendship bracelets, and she didn't know what it involved. All she knew was that she wanted everything to go back to how it was before the avalanche. She wanted it so badly that it consumed her.

Lena's voice echoed in her head, "That's not how magic works…"

"I don't care how magic works!" Webby snapped, oblivious to the fact that she was probably confusing everyone else. "Bring them back!"

Donald and Scrooge joined her in grabbing the staff and, together, Magica's grip slid down. Scrooge shoved Magica aside and Webby heard in her mind unfamiliar words that she nonetheless recognized. They were Latin, which could be used in incantations. They echoed in her head, much like Lena's voice had earlier.

"Eadem mihi omnia et quomodo esset!" Lena cried in her mind and Webby repeated it aloud. The staff was now far too warm to hold comfortably and power rushed along it, coursing both ways. It blasted Magica away and enveloped them in a hot embrace. Webby was sweating beneath her feathers.

"No," Magica hissed. "No. Conterere!"

This time, Webby heard the voice aloud.

"Not this time," Lena hissed. "Not gonna happen."

A white flash flung them all backward and, as they moved, Webby had the sense they weren't just falling through the cottage but through time itself. The staff was burning her palms and yet she clung to it, because without it, she sensed she'd lose Lena again. She didn't know how Lena had resurfaced anyway or whether it was her mind so desperate for any link to her best friend that she was fabricating it?

"Not again!" Magica cried and then her screams faded into nothing. The world was made anew and softly, so softly Webby might've been mistaken, just as her hands fell off the staff, she heard a whisper.

"Webby!"

Webby came to in a pile of snow. Before she had a chance to study her surroundings, three people landed atop her. The strangest thing was that she didn't remember how she'd gotten here or what had come before. The others pushed themselves off her and Huey helped her to her feet. Emotion surged through her, taking her by surprise, and she hugged them all, reserving the longest and tightest hug for Louie.

"What's going on?" Dewey said. "Not that we don't appreciate the hugs."

"I just had the weirdest feeling that I lost you…" she admitted. "But I don't understand how."

Louie was studying her avidly and yet, when she glanced at him again, he looked away. She didn't understand that either, but she was willing to let it slide. Looking at him produced butterflies in her stomach.

"What are ye doing here, standing around?" Scrooge demanded, coming from around a bend. "This whole mountain's unstable. We need to get into the cave 'fore we have an avalanche."

That sounded familiar, but as soon as she thought about it, the memory faded. Shaking her head at herself, she followed the boys and Scrooge into the cave. Outside, the wind was picking up and it threatened to be a nasty snowstorm that might leave them sequestered here for a while.

She had the strangest sense she was forgetting something, something important, and she caught her gaze lingering on her shadow (same as usual) and Louie. Again, she shook her head at herself. If it was important, she would have remembered. That was all there was to it.

They gathered around a campfire and prepared their rations. They'd blocked up the cave entrance, for the time being, so they weren't inundated with snow come the morning. The mountain shuddered and Webby wondered if there really would be an avalanche. She hoped not.

After dinner, they settled down to sleep and soon, it was only her and Louie that were still awake. Louie was eying her shrewdly.

"What?" she asked, feeling oddly self-conscious.

"Nothing," he said. "I just feel like we've forgotten something."

"Like what?" she said, though she thought she knew what he was hinting at.'

"This, maybe," he suggested and then, leaning forward, kissed her. It was a brief brush of his beak against hers and she pulled on his hoodie to pull him closer before he had a chance to move backward. She didn't know what had precipitated this and honestly, she didn't care.

Her fists wrapped up in his hoodie, she was aware of his heart pounding. Hers was too. She was also aware, if it was possible, of a ghostly Lena rolling her eyes at them.

"Took you long enough, pink," Lena muttered.

It was almost enough to make her stop in confusion. Almost, but not quite. Again, Webby had the sense she'd missed something important. But, well, it was late. Perhaps she was mistaken.

They pulled apart and Louie said, "Man, am I glad my leg isn't broken."

"Huh?"

"Great...I'm the only one who remembers," he muttered. "Huey and Dewey don't remember anything either. What is going on around here?"

"Remember what?"

"Nothing, never mind. Go to sleep, Webs."

But what was she supposed to remember? She was about to fall asleep when Louie muttered, "Say hi to Lena for me."

"What is that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

"You'll find out soon enough," he said and this time, he looked positively smug. She wanted to smack him. What was he playing at here? Her feathers stood on end and she glanced about the cave, but there was nothing to see. Her feathers stood on end.

Unless it was something she couldn't see, not without guidance. Webby frowned, deciding she needed to up her research at Duckburg Public Library. Clearly, she'd missed something important. Maybe that was what was bothering her, but she didn't think so.

The thoughts swirled around in her mind until, finally, she drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

How was he the only one who remembered what had happened? No one was going to believe him. Louie stared up at the cave ceiling. He'd been less than a spirit after Magica had eradicated their timeline, but he'd still been able to watch what was going on. Perhaps he'd been too determined to stay by Webby's side to abandon her to Magica's whims. The same, it seemed, had held true for Lena. He'd seen her around Webby, even if Webby herself was oblivious. Then again, Webby was oblivious to a lot of things. He really shouldn't be surprised.

He loved her and she was bright, but she could be remarkably dense about certain things.

He snorted. Who did she think she was fooling? They knew she was sneaking out to the library all the time. It was only a matter of time before something came of it. Maybe she would bring Lena back. If anyone could do it, Webby could. She was nothing if not determined.

Still, he wondered, what had happened to Magica? The last he'd seen of her was her flying in the opposite direction as Webby's spell activated.

Magica de Spell was cold, cranky, and bitter. She'd been thwarted by Lena not once but twice when the shadow girl was even less than a shadow. Webby had been so desperate to reclaim the boys that she'd commanded the staff to "put them back" and Magica's counter had arrived too late to stop it. To make matters worse, she'd been flung into the avalanche that the others were supposed to be stuck in.

She'd managed to take refuge in a small cave, but she had no provisions and nothing to make a fire. She would get them back for this, oh, yes. Her hands were clenching and unclenching to retain warmth and she'd been making something in her right fist. It was a replica of Scrooge's dime.

Magica snarled. Maybe not this time. Maybe not the next time, either. But she would win again. And when she did, she'd make sure Lena was destroyed for good. Apparently, she hadn't done a good enough job last time.

As she curled up, wet and miserable, she realized she'd lost her staff/amulet again. She was too tired to be sufficiently enraged, even though she knew someone else had it. Someone who had no idea what she was getting herself into…

Magica's beak curved into a cruel smile. Maybe if she was lucky, she'd get to witness the girl fail spectacularly in person. Wouldn't that be a nice twist?

Goldie, in the present, had the feeling that she ought to pay Scrooge a visit. It was just a vague feeling, but she'd learned to trust her gut. Besides, the old coot could stand a little more excitement in his life. And she was just the person to give it to him.

Mrs. Beakley and Launchpad knew the moment that the present was righted. They remained in the manor, but it was McDuck Manor again. Relieved, she hugged him, more as something to do than because she had strong emotions either way for the pilot.

"So, I should pick them up soon, right?" Launchpad said. "I mean, normally, I would've flown them, but I had that court appearance for running three stoplights in a row and I had to drop them off…"

"They should be fine," Mrs. Beakley said, breathing a sigh of relief. "Perfectly fine."

This called for a spot of tea. And maybe something a little stronger. It'd been a long, strange day.