A/N: My deepest apologies for giving you two very long and intensive stories in a row. The stories will vary in length from here on out, I promise.

But now we finally get to find out what happened in Hawai'i!

Louie glanced back into the living room where most of the group was still convened. "I just," he sighed. "I think we should tell everyone about Hawai'i."

Gosalyn glared. "You shut your mouth."

"Would it be so bad?" Louie asked. Uncle Donald's fixation on their island excursion during this holiday getaway had been slowly eating away at him. He hadn't kept a secret from his uncle for long; he wasn't physically capable of it.

"Yes," she said. "It would. Dad and Donald would kill Scrooge dead."

Louie groaned. "I wish that was an exaggeration."

"See? Then it's better kept a secret. Just play it cool, Lou." Gosalyn turned and went back into the great room.

Was she right?

Hawai'i had pretty much been a disaster, but it had ended okay. Everyone was safe.

Now.

They were safe now.

Weighing his options, Louie went over the trip in his mind for what seemed like the thousandth time, really considering how Uncle Donald and Drake might react to some of the details.

—…—…—…—…—…—…—…—

"Come along, lads!" Uncle Scrooge exclaimed. "I'm not getting any richer standing here!" He ran ahead through the lush plant life towards the rocky alcoves with the energy of a duck half his age.

But they lingered behind.

"Did you see his eyes?" asked Huey.

"Kinda glazed over," confirmed Dewey. "Has he started itching?"

"Not that I've seen."

"I called Gosalyn last night," Louie said. "She should be here soon."

"You told her this was an emergency, yeah?" Huey said.

"No, we just had a nice chat before gossiping about Project Runway." Louie rolled his eyes.

"Gold fever is nothing to joke about!" Huey snapped, rounding on him.

"I remember how serious it is!" Louie retorted. "I was there, too!"

"Guys, we can't fight," said Dewey, stepping between them. "It's gonna take all three of us to make sure Uncle Scrooge doesn't get any worse. Can you please save this for later?"

Huey and Louie eyed one another before Huey sighed. "Sorry. I just… I haven't seen Uncle Scrooge this bad since we were kids."

"It's going to be okay as long as we stick together," said Dewey.

"C'mon slowpokes!" Uncle Scrooge called, waving back at them. "That tomb's not gonna explore itself!" He rearranged the backpack strap on his shoulder before turning and running off.

"Was that an itch?" Huey demanded.

"I don't know. Louie, stay here and check on Gosalyn's ETA. Huey, let's follow Uncle Scrooge before he gets himself into trouble."

Huey's jaw ticked but he set off after Uncle Scrooge with Dewey at his side, trekking towards the soothing crash of the nearby waves.

Louie grabbed his phone and called Gosalyn, shifting his weight as the dial tone buzzed in his ear.

He counted three rings before Gosalyn answered. "What's up?"

"Where are you?" Louie all but blurted.

"Should be there in a few minutes. You guys able to hold out that long?"

"Yeah," said Louie, glancing towards the grottos where his family had gone to. "We're headed to some cave. I'm waiting outside for you."

"Just you?" Louie heard something snap on Gosalyn's end of the phone. "Where are the others?"

"Heading toward the cave. Uncle Scrooge's fever is getting worse."

"Wouldn't be an adventure without complications, would it? We're almost over you. See you soon."

Hearing the hum of an approaching plane, Louie glanced up. The sleek black jet soared towards him, a stark contrast to the deep blue skies, lush green mountains, and feathered palm trees. The precision of the long curved wings reminded Louie that he wasn't on vacation on this scenic island. He was treasure hunting and his uncle was in danger of falling under gold fever, a disease that caused it's victims to itch for gold so much they forgot about the existence of anything else.

They weren't even looking for gold, which was why it was such a shock to see Uncle Scrooge afflicted by it now. They were after jewels, diamonds, and even feathers from extinct birds.

And, yeah, Uncle Scrooge sometimes became so enamored with a treasure that he would stop at nothing to find it, and was willing to sacrifice most anything, including his own safety.

But he would never sacrifice them. Not his nephews.

Gold fever shifted your priorities, though. Made you value the treasure above anything else. And if Uncle Scrooge couldn't shake it, Gosalyn was here with only one objective: get them all home.

The plane glided overhead, a small dot jumping from it before the aircraft rocketed away. The dot grew in size, becoming more discernible as Gosalyn as she got closer. Once she was at the right distance, she deployed her parachute and sailed towards Louie.

Upon hitting the ground, Gosalyn unhooked the harness from around her and jogged over. "Where's this cave?" she asked, grabbing her bow and stringing it.

"This way," Louie said, leading her towards the sound of the waves. He pulled up Huey's contact information on his phone and hit the location button, making sure he was headed for the small picture of his brother on the map of the island. "Uncle Scrooge just started itching, probably because we're so close to the tomb."

"Who's tomb are you excavating and for what?"

"Kameha-someone, I think."

Gosalyn stopped in her tracks, Louie skittering to a halt to face her.

"You think?"

"I'm pretty sure."

"Pretty sure is not knowing."

"Okay, then I know."

"Oh my God, Louie! Is it King Kamehameha? As in Kamehameha the Great who's tomb should under no circumstances be disturbed?"

The dread that had been clawing at him since Uncle Scrooge had started showing symptoms spiked to fear. "How do you know so much about Hawai'ian history?"

"What else was I supposed to do on an eight hour flight? Listen to 'Cups' the whole time?"

"Why would you listen to 'Cups' more than, like, twice in a row?"

"We're getting off subject," Gosalyn said, walking onward.

"You're the one who brought up 'Cups.'" Louie took the lead, glancing between the landscape and his phone and guiding Gosalyn through the lush island vegetation towards the shoreline. The mountains and ocean met in several miles of sheer cliff face. There were, supposedly, coves and caves carved into these cliffs, one of which was the rumored resting place of Kamehameha the Great.

"Fever or not, we're getting out of here," said Gosalyn as she easily scaled over the sharp rocks towards the dark opening yawning before them. "His tomb is sacred, no one's supposed to know where it is."

"Is it cursed? We get a lot of curses on adventures." Louie had to put his phone away so he could use his hands to steady himself as he climbed over the rocks.

"How any of you made it to adulthood is beyond me."

Gosalyn drew an arrow as they entered the cave, Louie turning on a flashlight and directing it in front of them. The light revealed a fairly typical cave, small streams of water flowing out from the recesses of the cave towards the ocean.

Gosalyn continued, "His bones are infused with divine power granted to him by the gods. It's what gave him the right to rule and why he was so successful. There's no telling what will happen if that power is disturbed."

"Sounds pretty curse-y to me."

"It's not a curse."

"Thought you two would never show up!" snapped Huey, his own flashlight beam bouncing along the walls as he scurried up to them. "He's getting worse."

"We really need to leave," Dewey said, right on Hueys' heels.

"Where's Uncle Scrooge?" asked Louie.

"Back there," said Dewey, pointing over his shoulder. "He started rubbing up against the walls like he was a cat."

"It didn't happen this fast before," Huey said.

"You think it's the curse?" Louie turned to Gosalyn.

"It's not a curse," she said, walking into the cove.

The cavern around them shuddered. The streams of water and other small pools that had been collected during high tide rippling as pebbles rained down from above. Huey, Dewey, and Louie gripped onto the wall nearest them as Gosalyn dropped to one knee, nocking her arrow.

She glanced back. "Grab your uncle. We're leaving."

Huey sprang up, running up an incline, calling, "Uncle Scrooge?" His voice echoed around the cavern. "We gotta go!"

"Go?" came Scrooge's voice from just beyond the small hill of rock. "Nonsense, lad! We've come too far to give up now!"

"Huey's right," Dewey said, following after his brother. Louie darted behind him as Gosalyn drew her arrow, her eyes scanning their surroundings in the bobbing flashlight beams.

When Louie reached the peak of the hill, he cast his light down and saw Huey wrestling with Uncle Scrooge on the ground, who was trying to scramble father into the grotto. Huey had tossed his flashlight aside, its beam of light illuminating the cavern from the ground, casting long shadows.

"Unhand me!" Uncle Scrooge cried, kicking in an attempt to free himself. Huey ducked but managed to hang on, tugging him towards the entrance. "I don't know what's gotten into you, lad."

"Huey's fine," Dewey said, approaching and grabbing Uncle Scrooge's arm. "You have gold fever."

"I do — hic! — not!" Uncle Scrooge continued to flail as Huey and Dewey pulled him back. "There isn't even gold to be had. Just jewels — hic! — and feathers of — hic! — extinct birds. Just think how grand we'll look — hic! — wearing those — hic! — warrior's robes! Hic! Let me go!"

Louie ran down, tucking his flashlight under his arm, and took ahold of Uncle Scrooge's shoulder. "There will be other treasures. We should leave this one alone; the tomb is sacred."

"You three probably want — hic! — the treasure for yourselves!" Uncle Scrooge kicked out again and Huey lost his grip. Managing to get his feet under him, Uncle Scrooge shoved himself up, pushing Dewey and Louie back.

The grotto shuddered around them again, the boys stumbling backwards as Uncle Scrooge steadied himself with both hands.

"Let's go!" called Gosalyn, coming over the ridge with her arrow still drawn.

"Gosalyn?" Uncle Scrooge said, surprised enough to momentarily forget about the treasure. He grabbed Huey's discarded flashlight and pointed it at her. "What are ye doing here?"

"Strike Team Omega was called in, sir," she said, glancing around the area before making her way over to them.

Uncle Scrooge glowered at the triplets, the beam of the flashlight almost burning in accusation. "Did you call her in?"

"You have gold fever, Uncle Scrooge!" Huey said, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice. "We had to do something!"

"I've had enough of this gold fever nonsense," Uncle Scrooge said, glaring at each of them in turn. "Gosalyn, go home. I will call you if you're needed. Boys — hic! — let's go."

Another tremor wracked through the cavern.

"That can't be an earthquake," Dewey rationed, catching Huey and righting him on his feet. "The tremors are too random."

"And they're getting more intense," Louie said, pointing his flashlight down the dark mouth of the grotto. As if watching the stones shake loose would give them insight as to why these tremors were happening.

"Mr. McDuck," called Gosalyn. "We're going."

"I'm not leaving without — hic! — my treasure!"

The next tremor brought a chunk of stone careening towards the ground.

Straight at them.

Gosalyn shoved Louie out of the way as Huey, Dewey, and Uncle Scrooge dodged it.

"Come on!" Gosalyn ran around the boulder now lodged in the floor and helped Huey and Dewey up.

"I'm not — hic! — going anywhere!" Uncle Scrooge said, his flashlight beam bounding around the cavern erratically.

Her expression determined, Gosalyn approached Uncle Scrooge, hands on her hips. "I'm not asking."

The grotto quaked, stones raining down on them. Huey, Dewey, and Louie threw their hands up to cover their heads, but Gosalyn didn't move, still glaring down at Uncle Scrooge.

"I am your employer!" Uncle Scrooge got to his feet and stared her down, which was impressive since Gosalyn had a few inches on him. "I call you in and tell you what to do, not my nephews." He reached out and grabbed ahold of her bow with one hand, tugging it out of her grip. "And I am saying to let me go after — hic! — the treasure." Another quaking shudder ricocheted through the cavern, Gosalyn and Uncle Scrooge swaying, but not losing their footing.

"And I am saying, sir," Gosalyn ground out, yanking her bow free from Uncle Scrooge's grasp, "that we're leaving. My job is to make sure you all get home safely."

"Then consider yourself fired." Uncle Scrooge turned to Huey, Dewey, and Louie. "Come on — hic! — boys."

He started to walk away when Gosalyn shot her arrow at him, a bola chord snaking around his ankles and wrapping all the way up to his shoulders. He toppled over with a cry. The flashlight bounced on the ground, rolling away and casting its light toward the mouth of the grotto. As if pointing them towards their escape.

"Grab him," she instructed as she pulled out another arrow, the grotto vibrating again. Once the ground was sturdy, Huey and Dewey darted forward and grabbed Uncle Scrooge, who protested amongst his hiccups, Louie using his flashlight to make sure his brothers could properly see.

The cave was shaking consistently now, tremors growing more intense and wracking up and down the grotto. Rocks rained from above in a downpour. Gosalyn led Louie to an outcropping under which where they took shelter. Dewey and Huey half-carried, half-dragged Uncle Scrooge to the wall where they hunkered down in a small hollowed out section.

"Is this the curse?" Louie yelled to be heard over the crashing rocks and glanced at Gosalyn.

Before she could answer, a monstrous reptilian foot thudded down in front of them, ebony talons curving down and digging into the rock as though it was nothing more than mud.

Louie and Gosalyn leaned forward, looking up to see a lizard of prehistoric proportions. The long flat head extended from a stout neck that stretched out from the long scaled body. It's lips were curled in a growl, gleaming pointed fangs a contrast to the soft pink gums and whip-like tongue that snaked out between the teeth.

The thing straightened up, blue green scales rippling in the faint light cast by the discarded flashlight, scarlet spikes rising along its spine.

When it took a step forwards, the grotto shook violently and Louie understood. The tremors had been this prehistoric lizard walking towards them. It had probably been deep in the cavern, and if they'd gone in search of this tomb, they likely would have been ripped limb from limb. Or eaten whole.

"Told you it wasn't a curse," Gosalyn said softly, looking over to Huey, Dewey, and Uncle Scrooge. The boys were pressed up flat against the rock, eyeing the lizard in awe. Uncle Scrooge, on the other hand, was wriggling against his restraints. He'd managed to get a hand free. It wouldn't be long before—

"Oh, hell," said Gosalyn, nocking her arrow as Uncle Scrooge sprang to his feet, darting farther into the grotto.

"No!"

"Uncle Scrooge!"

The lizard roared and followed Uncle Scrooge, the cavern shaking around them so violently that Louie couldn't keep his feet under him and he fell over, his flashlight's beam whipping from rock wall to rock wall.

"We don't want to find the tomb!" Gosalyn called, running out and grabbing the discarded flashlight. The lizard whipped around to face Gosalyn, its tail lashing out behind it and slamming down into the grotto's wall. It missed Uncle Scrooge by mere inches, but he still fell over from the ricochets.

"Maybe you don't," Uncle Scrooge grunted as he climbed to his feet. "But I — hic! — do!"

The lizard roared, whipping it's tail around furiously and Uncle Scrooge dodged and ducked to avoid getting hit.

"She can understand you!" said Gosalyn,

"You know it's a she?" Huey called.

"She can what?" Dewey cried.

"Kihawahine!" Gosalyn said, raising up her hands in surrender, the flashlight pointing up to the curved ceiling of the grotto. "We will leave the tomb in peace."

The lizard regarded Gosalyn for a moment, golden eyes gleaming in the low light. But suddenly the lizard roared, lunging backwards with its teeth bared.

Towards Uncle Scrooge who was attempting to slip back in the cavern, hiccuping wildly.

Gosalyn swore, shoved the flashlight in her teeth, nocked, drew, and fired her arrow.

The net arrow deployed and wrapped around Uncle Scrooge, the ends tying together and effectively trapping him within its confines.

Gosalyn reached up and grabbed the flashlight from her mouth. "Get him out of here!" she called, tossing the flashlight to Huey, who caught it easily.

Dewey and Louie ran over towards Uncle Scrooge, who was attempting to free himself from the net. But it held fast; the ends appeared to be welded together to dissuade any escape. They dragged Uncle Scrooge towards the grotto's opening.

The lizard roared again, snapping her jaws in frustration. Gosalyn stationed herself between the boys and the lizard.

Reaching into one of her pouches, she dug out a knife and pressed it into Dewey's hand. "You can free him when you're sure he doesn't have the gold fever anymore. Or when you've reached Duckburg. Whatever happens first."

"But," said Louie, glancing back at Gosalyn as Huey also grabbed some of the net and helped drag Uncle Scrooge out of the grotto, "you're coming with us."

"I'm making sure you get home," Gosalyn said, looking up at the lizard. Slowly, she kneeled down, placing her bow on the ground before unbuckling her quiver and placing it alongside her bow.

"What are you—"

"Kihawahine is a goddess, Lou. This isn't needless violence, she's protecting something."

"Yeah, the tomb. But we're not gonna find it, so can't we leave? Together?"

Kihawahine stomped forward, a huge taloned foot thudding in between them. The impact send Louie stumbling backwards and he landed on his backside, jarred but not injured.

"Get out of here!" Gosalyn cried before Kihawahine roared again, her massive head and sharp teeth coming straight for Louie.

Not needing to be told twice, Louie scrambled up the hill and out of the grotto, heart pounding furiously somewhere in the region of his throat.

He jogged away, finding Huey and Louie barely past the rocks of the grotto. They were wrestling Uncle Scrooge who was, once again, putting up a fight.

"You boys will — hic! — regret this! Think of the treasure — hic! — you're abandoning! I can't believe members of my own — hic! — family are betraying me like this!"

Louie jumped on top of Uncle Scrooge and managed to get him on his back so he was sitting on his chest. "Uncle Scrooge!" he cried. "This has to stop! Now is not the time for treasure!"

"It's always — hic! — time for treasure," Uncle Scrooge argued.

Louie grabbed him by the shoulders and looked him in the eye. "You awakened a goddess and Gosalyn is sacrificing herself to get us home safely. If she hadn't been here, Kihawahine would have killed us. Come on, Uncle Scrooge, snap out of it!" Louie shook him slightly, hoping his words would sink in.

And something he said must have gotten through, because Uncle Scrooge shook himself and his eyes lost their glossy look. "Louie?"

"Please, Uncle Scrooge. We have to get out of here. Treasure doesn't matter!"

His beak twisting in guilt, Uncle Scrooge said, "Yer right, lad."

Huey and Dewey approached cautiously, glancing at one another, not trusting that Uncle Scrooge had shaken off the gold fever.

Uncle Scrooge glanced between the three. "I couldna see past my own greed and put you three in danger. Can ya ever forgive me?"

"Of course we can, Uncle Scrooge," breathed Huey, relief flooding his features.

"We know treasure is important to you," said Dewey, helping Uncle Scrooge sit up as Louie slid off to sit beside him.

"But is should not be something I put before any of you." Uncle Scrooge grabbed onto the netting. "Where's Gosalyn?"

"Still in the grotto," said Louie. "Made me leave without her."

"We have to help!" Huey said.

"Aye. Any of ye have a knife?"

Dewey pulled out the knife Gosalyn had given him and started sawing away at the netting until Uncle Scrooge was freed. Tossing the net away, Uncle Scrooge looked at the boys, a serious expression on his face. "I'm sorry fer making ye think yer less important to me than some blasted treasure."

None of them responded, but they smiled in understanding. It wasn't the first time Uncle Scrooge became enamored with a treasure and thought of nothing else.

"Now let's go see if we can help Gosalyn," said Uncle Scrooge, getting to his feet.

But they weren't needed after all.

Gosalyn emerged from the grotto just as they were approaching it again, her quiver strapped in place and her bow in hand.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, reaching back for an arrow. "How did he get free?"

"He doesn't have gold fever anymore," explained Dewey.

Gosalyn sent them all a skeptical look. "So you're returning to the cave for a good time?"

"For you," Louie said.

Gosalyn shook her head. "Kihawahine is going to let us leave provided we never return to this island again." She studied Uncle Scrooge. "You okay with leaving, sir?"

"I think it best, lass. And if yeh'll take it, ye still have a position as Strike Team Omega."

"I'll need to think about it," she said, unstringing her bow and putting it away. "Shall we, gentlemen? Before Kihawahine changes her mind?"

"To the canoe!" said Huey, in high spirits once more with everything back in order.

"Canoe?" Gosalyn asked.

"Only way on and off," said Dewey.

She looked to Uncle Scrooge. "This is a point against rejoining Strike Team Omega."

Uncle Scrooge smiled. "Understood."

—…—…—…—…—…—…—…—

"You okay, Louie?" Uncle Donald asked, an overcoat and scarf in hand.

Louie blinked, returning to their Christmas cabin from his Hawai'ian memories. "Yeah," he said.

Uncle Donald's eyebrows drew together.

"Really, Uncle Donald. I'm okay."

Still looking skeptical, Uncle Donald zipped up his coat and wrapped the scarf around his neck. "I'm going to get José and Panchito from the airport. We can talk tonight."

Louie considered the offer.

Sure, Uncle Donald wanted to hear about Hawai'i.

But then Uncle Donald and Uncle Scrooge would fight. Mr. Mallard would also probably join in the argument and their Christmas retreat would be tainted with the memory of something that was long past.

Smiling, Louie said, "Thanks. I'll take you up on that if I need to. You want company getting Panchito and José?"

Donald returned the smile. "Get your coat."

'Someday,' thought Louie as he grabbed his winter wear and hurried after Uncle Donald. 'I'll tell him about Hawai'i.'

But not today.

Not during this trip.

The cabin retreat was about togetherness and Louie wanted to keep it that way.

A/N: Kihawahine is a real Hawaiian goddess. The picture I liked most for her can be found here. Her story, and King Kamehameha's, are fascinating and give some amazing insight into Hawaiian folklore and history. I recommend them highly!