Her chest hurt and she felt miserable. The verbal sparring between herself and Wildwing had lasted several minutes before she threw one last barb and turned her back on him. She never relished the battle of wits and wills she would have with the other mages, but those bouts had never made her physically ill. She could feel her heart pound uncomfortably, she was having trouble breathing and it felt like she was about to lose her breakfast.
She hastily pushed the blankets off of her legs and stumbled into the bathroom. She shut and locked the door behind her in case he thought he needed to follow her. She stood there, leaning against the door, willing her body to calm down.
After she had gotten herself back under control, she tried to figure out what brought on her ill feelings. The first time she had felt anywhere near that bad was when the Saurians had taken everything from her. She quickly pushed those memories away before she had a panic attack. Having a panic attack in a hospital would be bad...very, very bad.
It took her several minutes to get herself completely under control again. Once she felt she had a handle on herself, she explored the small room. The hospital had provided some basic toiletries and she decided to take advantage of it.
She used magic to make sure her clothes were dry after she washed them. As much as she hated to use what little energy she had, she had no desire to use the fire within her again. It was much too dangerous.
She took a long hot shower, reveling in the feeling. It had been so long since she last had one, she had almost forgotten how wonderful they felt. The fact that the hot water never seemed to run out was even better.
When she was done, it took quite some time to comb out her hair and she broke several of the teeth on the comb they provided. Once the long strands were relatively knot free, she braided her hair and then realized she had no way to tie the ends. With some finesse and a bit more power than she wanted to use, she managed to unweave a few strands of thread from her dress.
Not caring that her hair was still damp and would take a long time to dry in the braid, she finally left the bathroom. She paused for a moment when she saw that he was still there. With her beak held high, she continued her journey to the bed. As much as she would like to kick him out, she was on a strange world and he was the only person she 'knew' to guide her in this new place.
"I'm sorry," he quietly uttered.
She stopped mid-step and looked at him in surprise. By the expression on his face, it appeared he had startled himself as well. Not trusting herself to speak, she simply nodded and then climbed back into bed. It took her a minute to rearrange the dress so it wasn't pulling one way or another and then she settled down to watch what the humans considered entertainment.
"What's it made of?" he asked.
"What?" she questioned in confusion.
"You're dress," he clarified. "What is it made of?"
"Spider silk," she answered.
"That stuff is next to impossible to get even a scrap of," he stated suspiciously. "How did you get enough of it to make a dress with?"
"It's not hard to get if you're one of the ones who make it," she pointed out.
"What!?" he exclaimed in shock. "Those spiders are extinct!"
"When it became illegal to be a mage, the mages left and took the spiders with them," she explained. "We're the only ones who can safely harvest the silk, so there was no point in leaving them behind."
"Being a mage is illegal?" he asked, stunned.
"About a hundred years after the Saurians were first defeated, some politician made it his campaign promise to get rid of all of the mages," she told him bitterly. "Out of all of the promises he made, that was the one he kept."
She looked back to the TV, though she wasn't really paying attention to it. The memory of learning that bit of Puckworld history still left a bitter taste in her beak. She ignored the segment on dog fashion tips as she worked at keeping herself calm.
"Where did the mages go?" he quietly asked after a couple of minutes passed.
"Someplace safe," she vaguely answered. "Someplace that only a mage or someone called to it would be able to find."
"Twin Beaks," he stated several moments later. "Canard told me he found the mask in a tomb at a place called Twin Beaks."
"Found?" she snorted a smile tugged at the corners of her beak. "I guess that beats trying to explain how he managed to escape being turned into a mindless slave that was never allowed to play hockey again."
"How did you know?" he started, shock written all over his face.
"That to touch a mage is to invite death?" she started, watching him out of the corner of her eye. "That the only good mage is a dead one?"
She looked him dead in the eye and got some small bit of satisfaction at the stunned look on his face. She decided she might as well drop the other skate.
"I wasn't hatched this way," she sadly told him. "At one time, my beak looked just like yours."
He had watched her stagger into the bathroom and tried to ignore the feeling of his heart being squeezed. After hearing the shower start, he felt about 2 inches tall. He remembered his mom going into the bathroom to have a good cry when raising two boys by herself had become too much. She would turn on the shower to cover the sound of her sobs.
When she had finally come out, he had surprised both of them by apologizing. He hadn't meant to, but she had accepted it, so he moved on.
He wasn't sure why he asked about her dress. Maybe he was just trying to figure out how she managed to get enough of such a rare material to make an entire dress. Maybe the mask wasn't the only thing she had stolen.
Instead he had learned a little something about spider silk, an obscure law and Twin Beaks. But her admission that she hadn't always been a mage was what had left him with his beak hanging open.
"Hey, Grin, do you remember Amber Rotente?" Tanya asked as they drove through the outskirts of Anaheim.
"Of course," Grin answered. "She is a kind and gentle duck. A truly evolved soul."
"Who?" Nosedive questioned.
"Amber Rotente was sort of the den mom/mascot/general of the resistance," Mallory explained. "She knew everyone and everything that was going on and everyone loved her. Duke was the one who rescued her from the remains of her family's home after the first wave of attacks."
"You and Wildwing never got to meet her," Duke told him. "She was organizing the resistance in another city when Canard finished pulling the team together. She's a good kid. She was hatched with a bum leg, so she needs crutches to get around."
"I wonder if she ever got the surgery to fix her leg," Tanya mused.
"She had that surgeon that was always following her around like a lost puppy," Mallory pointed out. "He probably did it when things got back to normal."
"He had it bad for her," Grin chuckled.
"Boy did he," Tanya snickered.
"Ok, now that we've had this trip down memory lane, what does this Amber have to do with anything?" Nosedive asked.
"Tanya thinks she and the blue beak look a lot alike," Mallory replied.
Grin got a startled look on his face before a frown creased his forehead.
"The similarities are...disquieting," Grin conceded unhappily.
A quiet knock on the door drew their attention to that portal. Dr. Paulson stood there, looking at them, concern clearly written on his face.
"Am I interrupting anything?" Paulson asked.
"No, of course not, doctor," she pleasantly responded. "Please, come in."
Wildwing kept quiet as the doctor asked her how she was feeling and then did another check on her vital signs. He wasn't sure how he felt about finding out that at one point she had been a perfectly normal duck. He wondered what had happened to turn her into a mage.
Had a mage suddenly decided to turn her into someone like him or her? Had she touched a mage and have a spark jump out and hit her in the chest like touching her had done to him? Was he, at that moment, becoming a mage himself?
"Well, I don't see a reason to keep you here any longer," Paulson announced, interrupting Wildwing's train of thought.
"Good," she sighed in relief. "As lovely as your hospital is, I'd really like to get out of here."
"I imagine you do," Paulson said with a smile. "Unfortunately, there is the matter of the bill."
"Send it to Phil Palmfeather at The Pond," Wildwing instructed as he stood up. "He's our manager. He loves getting that type of stuff."
He heard a stifled giggle, but when he looked at her, her face was completely straight.
"Ok, will do," Paulson replied as he noted it down in her file. "I'll just give this to the nurse. Then we'll get you a wheelchair and you'll be on your way."
"Why do I need a wheelchair?" she asked and Wildwing could see she wasn't enamored by the idea of riding in one. "I can walk just fine."
"Hospital policy," Paulson replied with a shrug. "Everyone gets to ride out in style. I'll just get this taken care of and then you can go."
Paulson hustled out of the room before she could pose anymore objections.
"You have something against wheelchairs?" he asked.
"Just memories," she replied before she looked at him and the corner of her beak twitched. "Your manager enjoys getting surprise bills?"
"No, but we like to keep him on his toes," he answered.
She laughed and he suddenly had a hard time breathing. It concerned him that making her laugh made him feel good. What was wrong with him?
"You should get your stuff together," he suggested.
She nodded her agreement and she turned to the nightstand. She paused at the sight of the cardboard cup and paper bag sitting there. They were between her and her belt.
"The coffee is probably cold, but the food should still be good," he told her and she gingerly picked the items up.
"Thank you," she softly said as she opened the bag.
"You're welcome," he quietly replied and she let out a gasp.
"It's been over a year since I've had chocolate," she admitted in a reverent tone as she pulled the chocolate croissant out of the bag. "Thank you."
"Not a problem," he responded, finding it hard to breathe again. "I'm going to use the bathroom real quick."
He beat a hasty retreat into the small room. He gasped for breath, scared about his reaction to her. He quickly checked his reflection in the mirror, carefully examining his beak for any signs of color change.
What was wrong with him?
After he finally pulled himself together, he exited the bathroom. He nearly got his toes ran over by the man pushing a wheelchair into the room. He stood out of the way as the man pulled the chair up to the bed and the nurse came in a second later.
The humans fussed over her, helping her to get situated in the chair. She didn't appear too happy to be there, but they didn't seem to notice. The nurse gave her a pair of slippers that didn't look like they'd last for more than a few minutes if she tried walking around in them.
He could see that she had put her belt back on and that the coffee cup was in both of her hands. He slightly frowned at the way she was nearly crushing the cup. He wondered what memories could have her upset over a wheelchair.
Before he could do more than wonder, they were on the move. He followed the man pushing the chair while the nurse waved goodbye to them. She returned to her station as they headed for the elevator.
Soon, they were stepping out into the bright early summer sunshine. Wildwing was instructed to go get his vehicle while they waited there. He quickly trotted across the parking lot to his bike.
He barely managed to control his speed as he headed back. He couldn't wait to get back to The Pond and his own bunk. Getting some real food in him wouldn't be a bad thing either.
As soon as he pulled in front of the hospital, she was on her feet. The man looked a bit worried, but she just smiled at him reassuringly and he left. Wildwing sat back and waited for her to get on, not relishing the idea of having her so close to him.
"You're joking, right?" she demanded.
"About what?" he countered with a frown.
"Um...hello? Motorcycles and long dresses don't mix," she pointed out.
"Well, do that glowing eye thing you do and turn the skirt into pants, mage," he impatiently instructed as he started to lose patience.
"No, goalie, I won't," she snapped back.
"You know my name," he reminded her heatedly.
"And you haven't even bothered to learn mine," she retorted.
Belatedly, he realized that she was right.
"Fine," he grumbled. "What's your name?"
She opened her beak to answer him.
"PRINCESS DUCKY!"
They had returned to The Pond to find that Wildwing still wasn't back from wherever he had gone off to. They did find a fretting Phil nearly pulling his hair out. There was a hardware store that wanted the ducks to come to their grand opening and they were insisting that Wildwing wear the mask. The ducks left their manager to his worrying while they went off to do their own things.
Nosedive decided to spend some quality time with the new comic books he had bought the night before. Grin was off watching a show on the history of hockey. Tanya went off to download her energy readings into Drake One in hopes that it could be used to find the blue beak. She also took the blue beak's shoes and cloak for further study. Both Duke and Mallory were of like minds and headed for the mall.
They never dreamed what they would find there.
Author's Notes: Yeah me! Grin actually has dialog and isn't in the corner meditating. Because of the length of the next scene, I'm cutting this chapter off here.