"…And then, when I started to leave, he tried to force me to stay! Even though he said that he'd leave me be if I wanted him to, and-" Huey rambled, sitting on the living room couch. "And he was rude, and he was acting as if he wasn't interrogating me even though he obviously was-!"

"And you're a minor!" Della shouted angrily, throwing her hands up. "He had no business interrogating you in the first place!"

"Exactly! No business!"

"And in the middle of a high school, like- there's no way that's legal! None!"

"And throughout the whole thing he was implying that Uncle Scrooge had done something wrong, like he was a criminal-!"

"What?"

"Yeah, the whole thing was because he was trying to get me to talk about Scrooge! Because he thinks he's somehow done something wrong!"

"Oh, well, that's just typical!" Della fumed, pacing back and forth across the room. "Scrooge literally saves the world from moon people, defeats F.O.W.L., and does the government thank him? No! Goddamnit!"

"And the way he talked to me, like I couldn't see through what he was doing, it was so insulting!"

"Goddamn him, that smarmy Irish douche!"

"And he made me miss Maths and Physics!" Huey cried.

"And he made you miss your class!" Della agreed vehemently.

Up to this point, Mrs Beakley had been sitting quietly in the nearby armchair, listening to Huey and Della as they loudly declared their frustrations. At this point, she raised her head and spoke, her voice calm and steady, "If I may… Huey, you said this Agent Nickel was interrogating you?"

Huey nodded.

"Interrogating you about what, exactly?"

Huey reached into his pocket and pulled out the note that Nickel had given him. He handed it over to Della, saying hesitantly, "He… wanted to know about these."

Della quickly skimmed the note, her eyes narrowing in disbelief. She showed it to Beakley, who took it from Della's hands.

Huey watched her as she read it. He didn't see Mrs. Beakley's expression change at all, but he did notice the faintest narrowing of her eyes.

"Those are the things we keep in the Other Bin, right?" He asked anxiously.

"…Some of them." Mrs. Beakley murmured.

"S-so… so, what does that mean?"

"Yeah, why is he asking about all that stuff?" Della chimed in. "Actually, forget that, how does he know that any of these exist?"

"I don't know." Mrs. Beakley told them, standing up. "That, we'll have to discuss with Scrooge when he comes back. In the meantime, I have a strongly worded phone call to make to our local FBI office."

"But… wait, are we safe?" Huey stuttered, rising from the couch as well. "I mean, this guy works for the government, we…"

"We're fine." Mrs. Beakley reassured him. "I highly doubt that we're in any kind of trouble, but even if we are, it's hardly anything serious. Otherwise, we'd have police officers knocking on our front door as we speak."

"But-"

"Huey, we don't have the answers right now." Mrs. Beakley told him. "Once we do, and once the rest of the family has returned, I will give them to you. Until then, try to keep your mind off of it. No sense agonising about the situation until we know what the situation is."

"…Alright." Huey conceded reluctantly.

Beakley nodded, satisfied. "Focus on your schoolwork in the meantime. It'll calm you down. Perhaps your mother could help you, if you're feeling too distressed."

Della blinked, somewhat surprised. "Uh… yeah, sure! If that's alright by you, hon."

"I… think I would like that." Huey replied gratefully.

"Very well. I'll go make that phone call, then." Beakley proclaimed, walking out of the room. "The sooner that fool gets punished, the better."

Huey and Della left the room as well, making their way through the mansion towards Huey's room. As they did, Della put her arm around Huey, telling him gently, "Hey, it's gonna be alright. That guy's just some upcoming hotshot, looking for anything he can use to make a name for himself."

"But how did he find out about the Other Bin?" Huey asked concernedly.

"I dunno." Della admitted. "But we'll find out, okay? One step at a time."

"One step at a time…" Huey murmured. "…Okay."

Huey did not expect his mother to be as proficient at maths as she turned out to be. Between the two of them, Huey's maths work was all finished up inside an hour.

Physics was another matter.

"Hoo, boy." Della remarked with a tired breath, sitting beside him at his schoolwork workstation. "I'll be honest, Huey… this stuff is making my head spin."

"It's just applied maths." Huey commented, bent over the worksheet. "It's easy to understand if you have the background knowledge."

"Huh. Maybe that's where I'm going wrong." Della leant back on her chair as she talked. "Never really paid much attention to sciences back in school. Wish I had now."

"What did you study?"

"Just the mandatory stuff. Maths, English, the usual stuff."

"What about in junior year?"

"Never made it to junior year. I dropped out in tenth grade." Della replied casually. When Huey turned to give her a horrified look, she added, "It was a lot more common back then that it is now. The only reason people would go through high school was to get into college, and most people went into trade apprenticeships. Didn't need a college degree for that."

"I guess not…"

"Yeah, nowadays, even apprenticeships need a high school diploma. I mean, you boys could find your way without one, but for the Average Joe? Yowch."

Huey didn't respond. He was staring at the paper before him, absentmindedly tapping his pen against the desk.

"…Do…" Huey asked uncertainly. "Do you think that this was about Paris?"

It took a moment for Della to realise what he was talking about. She leant back in her seat, frowning for a bit, before replying, "Nah, I don't think so. FBI doesn't care too much about international stuff, last I checked."

"Then what did that guy want?" Huey turned around to look at his mother, unable to let go of this mystery. "Like, is- is Scrooge in trouble? Is he not allowed to have the stuff in the Other Bin?"

"No! Well… I mean…" Della winced, pulling up her right leg to her chest. "…We've kept those things a secret for a reason. The stuff that's down there… in the wrong hands, they could be used for some pretty awful things."

"…And the wrong hands in this case… is the government?"

Della nodded. "One of the many."

Huey kept tapping his pen against the desk. "…I've never really thought about the government as an enemy before."

"Well… they're not 'enemies', exactly." Della explained with a conflicted wince. "Not in the way that Glomgold is our enemy, or that F.O.W.L. was. It's just… Scrooge is the wealthiest man in the world, and by extension, the most powerful. And it used to be – and this is way before my time – it used to be that politicians from all over would come here just to try and win Scrooge's favour. They'd ask him to sponsor them, or fund their campaigns, or something. And every single time, he'd say no.

"To this day, Scrooge has never dipped his toe into politics. He doesn't trust that scene, and he doesn't need it. He has enough money to do what he wants regardless of who's the governor, or the president, or whatever." Della narrowed her eyes. "And they know that. They know they can't control him, and that's why they hate him."

Huey nodded slowly, keeping up. "So… they're not an enemy. They just don't trust us."

"Exactly. And we don't trust them."

"So why are they doing this now?"

Della sighed. "I don't know, kiddo. Something's changed, but… I couldn't tell you what."

"Paris." Huey declared, staring straight ahead. "It has to be Paris. That's the only thing that's changed. Because- because we're US citizens, that whole thing would have reflected badly on them… this is them trying to keep us in check."

Della took a moment before replying, "Well, they're doing a pretty bad job at it if that guy was the best they could do."

"Or he was just the beginning."

Della didn't seem to have anything to reassure him with. She just looked at him sadly, then leant forward and pointed at the sheet of paper before him. "One step at a time, Hue. For now, focus on your… particles and stuff."

"…Okay." Huey said quietly, trying to pull his thoughts away from the government and away from the FBI.

He didn't like the idea that his family had done something wrong.

Scrooge laid in his hotel bed, staring up at the ceiling. It was the middle of the night, or close to it, and yet he wasn't any closer to falling asleep. His hands were laced over his chest, his index finger tapping anxiously against the back of his hand.

He couldn't stop thinking about Goldie.

He took in a deep breath, trying to lull himself into slumber. He knew his family wanted a moment to relax and rest, but there was still a very big part of him that wanted to just leap out of bed and join her without another moment of hesitation.

Yet, here he was. Lying in bed. Staring at the ceiling.

"Curse me kilts…" He muttered softly. He thought teenagers were supposed to be impulsive, thrill-seeking. How was it that he, the old man, was more willing to get into the action than they were?

They're slowing you down.

They were slowing him down, ironically enough. The price of family, he supposed. One that he was happy to pay if it meant the kids would be happy.

What about Goldie? She's waiting for you.

Goldie would wait for him, he knew that. She wasn't the type to give up easily. Still… it wasn't quite fair to keep her waiting for too long.

You could go now. You don't need to wait for them.

No… he couldn't just leave his family behind. This was supposed to be for them, after all. What would he tell them, coming back to the hotel with the idol? No. He would wait.

You don't need to keep the idol. Just long enough to get it out of Goldie's hands.

True, he could just take it and hide it somewhere she wouldn't find it. Then, he could direct the kids into 'accidentally' stumbling into it. Clever. That would also give him an opportunity to check out the traps and make sure everything was-

Scrooge suddenly sprang up, sitting bolt upright, his eyes wide.

Those weren't his thoughts he'd been thinking.

He took a moment, panting fearfully. He looked around his bedroom, hoping to find something, anything that would tell him that it wasn't what he thought it was. The room was sparse, with a single cupboard, a desk of draws and a mirror, but there was nothing that was out of place.

"…Who are you?" Scrooge whispered quietly.

There was no answer.

Scrooge leapt out of his bed and scavenged around in his travel bag, vigorously searching for his pill bottle. As he did, his eye glanced over to the mirror, and he saw something that made him stop dead.

Slowly, carefully, he edged closer to the mirror, trying to get as close as possible so he could be sure of what he was seeing.

There was a faint magenta glow coming from inside his head.

Two Years Ago

Scrooge frowned at his reflection, distorted as it was on the wall of magenta crystal.

He adjusted the helmet he was wearing, vainly attempting to alleviate the discomfort of wearing the headwear. He'd have preferred it if he was wearing his top hat, but he doubted it would provide him with much protection against the cavern's psionic onslaught.

"Alright, people! Let's go!" Gyro's voice shouted from behind.

Scrooge turned around, seeing that Gyro was currently pacing back and forth around the small, circular grotto they'd decided to take a break in. Boyd was sitting by the campfire they'd used to cook their meal, playfully poking at the embers, while Goldie was lounging on a lump of crystal that had fallen over. Except for Boyd, each of them was wearing the same kind of helmet that Scrooge was wearing.

"We are currently two-hundred metres above the inner sanctum of this place!" Gyro declared dramatically, picking up a rucksack with a strange metallic disk attached to it. "You've had your lunch break, now it's time to go!"

"Relax, brainiac." Goldie retorted lazily, making no effort to stand up from where she was. "We can afford an hour to rest our feet. That scroll's not goin' anywhere."

"That's far from the issue!" Gyro declared as Scrooge rejoined them. "We are being bombarded by psychic energy in this place! The longer we dally, the more damage we're doing to our minds!"

"I thought you said these helmets were ninety-nine percent effective?" Scrooge asked pointedly.

"Ninety-nine-point -nine, thank you." Gyro rebutted. "And that still leaves point-one percent of my genius that's being compromised here!"

"Mm. What a pity." Goldie sighed sarcastically.

Noticing the dirty look that Gyro was giving her, Scrooge stepped in to play mediator. "Alright, Gyro, we'll take off. No sense prolongin' this, not with a Sword of Damocles hoverin' over our heads." He turned towards Boyd and asked, "Er, how deep down are we now, lad?"

"Four hundred and four point seven-nine metres, Mister McDuck!" Boyd chirped happily. "According to your calculations, the inner sanctum of the caves is approximately five-hundred metres underground, so we only have ninety-five point two-one metres to go!"

Scrooge turned back to Gyro, asking concernedly, "That teleportation thingamajig… you're sure it'll work with over a thousand feet of stone and crystal in the way?"

"Physical obstructions aren't a factor with this." Gyro looked over at the disk on his backpack, explaining, "The teleporter pads, when activated, open up a limited extradimensional link between each other. When we go through, we'll be transported through the gap between dimensions and so long as the receiver's still running at the cave entrance, we'll appear at the other end no matter what's in the way.

"No, the problem is one of distance. And this is my first foray into extradimensional physics." Gyro admitted. "Five-hundred metres may be testing our luck."

"Then we can set the last one up here and come back to it once we've retrieved the scroll." Scrooge said decisively. "Shouldn't be too hard to find our way back."

"Very well." Gyro agreed, slinging the rucksack back off his shoulders. "Boyd, could you give me a hand here?"

Scrooge walked over to Goldie, leaving the other two to it. The treasure huntress slowly adjusted her position on her crystal lump, sitting up straight and grumbling, "Urgh. So much for giving my knees a break."

"Well, I guess that means you'll be in less of a state to swindle me again." Scrooge replied cheekily, sitting down beside her.

"Ha!" Goldie snorted. "Just you watch me, McDuck!"

"Oh, come on! Would it kill you to be a team player for once? You've stolen every single artifact we've come across!"

"And yet, you keep inviting me to come along." Goldie sighed, leaning back on her seat. "How strange."

Scrooge chuckled uneasily. "Aye, well…"

His smile slipped.

With a reluctant sigh, he stood back up, saying, "Erm, everyone?"

All eyes turned to him.

"I should tell you now, before we go any further… I'm afraid that this will be the last expedition for now."

"Aww." Boyd groaned disappointedly. "But these trips have been so much fun!"

"I know, lad." Scrooge told him. "But I've talked to my family, and… well, they're quite adamant that this is the last one. It's… it's just not fair, goin' off on adventures without 'em."

"Perfectly understandable." Gyro said with a nod. "Just so long as I get my end of the deal, of course."

"Aye, you will." Scrooge reassured him. "I'm not goin' to rob you of yer pay just because I got cold feet."

"Maybe we could still adventure, but they could come along?" Boyd suggested hopefully.

Scrooge thought about the last conversation he'd had with his family. He remembered the angry yelling of Donald and Della, Beakley's cold glare, and the betrayed, hurt expressions of his younger nephews.

He thought about Louie.

"…They're not quite ready for that, lad." Scrooge replied. "They've only just started high school, an' they haven't found their feet just yet. They need time before they're ready to add adventurin' back into the mix. I'm afraid that this is it… for now."

"…Okay." Boyd replied, going back to setting up the transporter, disheartened. Scrooge sat back down on the crystal log with a heavy exhale, looking into the remains of the fire pit.

"…You 'talked' to them, huh?" Goldie remarked quietly beside him.

"Aye."

"Meaning that they found out?"

"Aye." Scrooge admitted, knowing his lie wouldn't get past her. "Della had come lookin' for me, somethin' about Huey gettin' in trouble at school… she realised I wasn't where I said I'd been, and… well, it all fell apart from there."

"Told you keeping this secret was a bad idea." Goldie reprimanded him coyly.

"You're one to talk about that." Scrooge said crossly. "But… you're right. I should've known better."

"Probably." Goldie shrugged. "But you had the itch, and it would've driven you mad if you hadn't acted on it. And you…" She looked over at the other two, and lowered her voice even further, "Well, you couldn't exactly bring Sharpie along. Not after what happened."

"…No." Scrooge replied quietly. "Cannae say that makes it any better.

Goldie watched him silently for a moment, then smiled and reassured him, "Hey, they'll forgive you. Knowing your family, two months from now, this'll be water under the bridge."

"I know."

"And I'm still getting that scroll, Scroogie. I could use me some psychic powers." Goldie told him jokingly.

He smiled at her. "To do what?"

"Read thoughts? Pick pockets with telekinesis? It'd make rippin' people off a lot easier, that's for certain."

Scrooge chuckled. "Ah… never change, Goldie."

Goldie laughed back. "I try not to."

A click, followed by a humming sound, interrupted their conversation. They turned to Boyd and Gyro as they stood up, the scientist loudly declaring, "There! All set."

"Right!" Scrooge leapt up from his seat, picking up his rucksack from nearby and swinging it over his shoulders. "Let's go snatch that scroll, then!"

Goldie groaned exaggeratedly, then stood up to join him.

For another thirty minutes, they carefully descended the cave's depths. All around them, magenta crystals gleamed in the light of their lanterns, clusters of them lining the walls, the floor, everywhere. The jagged rock forced them to move slowly, growing out at odd angles and threatening to cut them to pieces should they move too recklessly. Boyd offered multiple times to cut through the crystals with his laser vision, but Scrooge denied him. "Save your energy, lad." He told him. "We don't know what's waiting for us down there."

Finally, at the end of the half-hour trek, they emerged from the tunnel into a larger cavern, the torchlight only barely illuminating the edges of its confines. The party advanced cautiously, Scrooge leading them forward, as the room was made clear foot by foot. This entire cavern was strewn with the remains and ruins of its previous inhabitants, overgrown by the occult minerals, but the crystal here seemed to have formed into steps, leading up to a dais-like platform at the end of the chamber. The stone was oddly smooth, like it had been carved, yet Scrooge knew that should be impossible.

"Aha! There it is!" Goldie cried out, first to spot it. "In the middle of that growth over there!"

Sure enough, as they stepped onto the central platform and made their way across, they all saw a dense cluster of crystals embedded into the far end of the wall. Within one of these crystals, barely visible behind the reflective glare created by the lanterns, was an unfurled scroll, frozen within the mineral. On its pages, perfectly preserved, were ancient writings in an unknown script. It looked to be some kind of Dravidian language, though Scrooge could only guess.

His elation at finding the scroll lasted only until he got close enough to look at it. "Curse me kilts, it's stuck in there." Scrooge muttered. "Crystal's completely grown around it."

"Well, that's what picks are for." Goldie remarked bluntly, taking off her rucksack and reaching for the pickaxe strapped to its side.

"Boyd's laser vision would be more efficient." Gyro interjected, stepping forward.

"Would it?" Goldie challenged. "Or would it just reflect off the crystal and hit us instead?"

"It would do no such thing." Gyro replied testily. "And it would take a quarter of the time it'd take with that crude instrument."

"So? What's so great about being fast when you could be careful?"

"You? Preachin' caution?" Scrooge laughed. "What happened to the real Goldie?"

"She decided she'd prefer not to damage the scroll with new-fangled lasers, that's what happened." Goldie replied irritably.

"Perhaps I could simply remove the crystal encapsulating the scroll, rather than the scroll itself?" Boyd suggested. "That way-"

A loud crack from the wall interrupted their conversation. Whirling around, they saw that the writing on the ancient parchment was starting to glow, with a bright, purple-tinged white light.

What actually alarmed them, though, was the crystal surrounding it starting to pull itself free.

A mass of pink crystal tore itself from the wall with a cacophony of shattering gemstone and crumbling stone. The party jumped back as the creature loomed before them, resembling a twelve-foot tall bulky headless humanoid, its fists shaped like heavy clubs and the scroll embedded deep within its chest. As it stood before them, a soundless psychic hum filled the air, reverberating off of their helmets, as rings of smaller, sharper crystals started to spin in the air around this mineral monstrosity.

Scrooge grunted angrily, stepping on the back foot and readying his cane. "Should've known it would be guarded!" He turned to the others, ordering, "Keep your distance!"

The others nodded, immediately scattering to the edges of the chamber. Scrooge held his position, waiting until the golem made a move.

He didn't have to wait long. The moment the others moved, the golem strode forward to slam its hammer-like hands towards Scrooge. He leapt to the side, then yelped as he saw some of the crystals satelliting the golem start to fly at him. Thinking quickly, he activated the cane's umbrella mode, the black fabric popping out from the tip and expanding to cover him like a shield. The crystals deflected off, though not without leaving a significant imprint in the umbrella's surface.

He scrambled away as Boyd flew above, a pair of red lasers firing at the golem from the boy's eyes. The golem took the hits without so much as flinching, instead sending a flurry of magenta projectiles towards Boyd as it continued to advance towards Scrooge. It swung two blows towards the elderly adventurer, who ducked and wove with a yelp each time. He fumbled around with the cane, trying to return it to its standard mode, but another strike from the golem knocked the cane out of his hands, sending it flying away to the other side of the room.

Goldie came from behind the creature, swinging her pickaxe into the monster's side with a war cry. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, Scrooge retreated, leaping off the dais and behind a large crystal outcrop.

"Mr. McDuck." Said Gyro, who had also taken cover behind the crystal.

Scrooge peered over at the battle, growling, "Argh… Boyd's lasers aren't doin' much!"

"No, they're not. The creature must be heat-resistant." Gyro remarked, taking a few experimental shots at the monster with a space pistol he'd pulled from his belt. Ducking back behind cover as a barrage of crystals came flying towards him, he added reluctantly, "…This thing isn't doing much to it either."

Scrooge watched helplessly as Goldie and Boyd fought the golem, the former swinging pickaxe blows while dodging the monster's fists, and the latter drawing fire from the halo of projectiles swarming the golem's body. "Cannae the lad fire missiles from his hands?" He asked desperately.

"What?" Gyro balked. "The force of the explosions would collapse the ceiling on top of us! And so would most of his offensive functions!"

"Well, we cannae let Goldie fight that thing alone!"

"Hm. She's not making much progress this way, that's for sure." Gyro agreed. Poking his head out of cover, he shouted at Goldie, "Aim for the joints!"

"What?" Goldie shouted back, just barely dodging another one of the golem's attacks. She looked at the creature, staring at it long enough to confirm it was a walking mass of solid crystal, then screamed back, "What joints?"

"It's an automaton! It's bound to have some kind of structural weakness!"

"Well, I'm not seeing-"

The creature struck her, cutting off her retort and knocking her back. Scrooge's heart leapt into his throat, then back down when he saw her get up and start running towards them. She was clutching her cheek and her helmet, her pickaxe left discarded on the ground. The attack had only clipped her, thankfully, though the sharp edges of the crystal looked to have cut the straps of Goldie's helmet.

"Careful!" Scrooge told her as she took cover between him and Gyro. "Don't lose your helmet!"

"Well, it's hardly my fault that the strap broke after one hit!" Goldie snapped angrily. She looked at the palm that had been covering her cheek, clicking her tongue irritably at her crimson-stained feathers. "That's a new scar."

"Argh! We cannae fight like this!" Scrooge snarled in frustration. He looked over at the battle, seeing that Boyd had just fired a charged ball of red plasma at the creature, which batted it aside to explode nearby into the ground. Scrooge winced at the burst of heat, then retreated into cover, thinking quickly.

"Alright!" He said suddenly, turning to the other two. "My cane, the Action Cane, it can be set to create this, er… sonic attack! Tune it to the right frequency, and it can shatter bulletproof glass! If I can get to my cane and use it on that thin', it could weaken it, maybe even destroy it!"

Goldie looked intrigued. Gyro looked alarmed. "Again, there is stone and crystal above us that could come crashing down if sufficiently damaged." He reminded them.

"You have a better plan?" Scrooge demanded. "It's either this, or we leave empty-handed!"

"It's our best shot." Goldie agreed, wiping away blood from her check. "You need us to run a distraction?"

"Aye. Draw its attention as best you can, and I'll run while it's distracted."

"Alright," Goldie stood up, taking her helmet straps and tying the severed ends together in a knot. She winced at the tightness of the makeshift harness, then nodded. "Ready."

Gyro sighed reluctantly, standing up as well. "Ready."

"On the count of three." Scrooge told them. "One… two… three!"

The three adventurers darted out from behind cover, Goldie roaring at the golem, "Hey! Come and get us, you overgrown clump of quartz!" Bolstered by the taunt, Scrooge ran as far as his legs would let him, keeping an eye on the monster as he ran. Gyro fired his laser pistol at the creature, firing at its legs, while Goldie snatched her pickaxe from the ground and started swinging into its body again with gusto. Boyd targeted the monster's projectiles with his lasers, disintegrating most of the smaller crystals. Oddly, the monster barely reacted to any of this, turning to face Scrooge as he ran for his cane, still stuck in umbrella mode.

Three things happened in quick succession.

The first thing that happened is that the golem, ignoring the other three, sent one of the crystals that had survived Boyd's attack towards Scrooge. The crystal flew past his head and hit the cane with uncanny precision, the force of the impact shattering the crystal and severing the cane in two.

The second thing was that Scrooge slowed down for a second, staring at the destroyed Action Cane with horror. This golem was no mere machine. It was intelligent, created by psychic power, and it had been listening to their thoughts the entire time.

The third thing was that the last of the golem's projectiles went soaring towards Scrooge just as he was turning around, smashing into and through his helmet. Piercing pain shot through his right temple as he was sent tumbling to the ground.

The last thing he heard before everything went black was Goldie screaming his name.

Scrooge stared at his reflection in the mirror, at the faint magenta glow that was coming from his head. It was hardly a bright light by any means, and it was only about the size of a dime, but it was still an unnatural and alarming sight to behold.

He edged closer to the mirror, trying to see as much detail as possible. Parting his feathers, he gingerly exposed the scar on his right temple, a scar that hid the fragment of clairvoyant crystal that had been embedded almost a full inch into his head. A permanent reminder of that fateful adventure, a consequence of his restlessness and recklessness.

He remembered little of his treatment. Goldie and Gyro told him that after they'd gotten him out of the cave, they ran to the nearby village for a doctor. Luckily, they had found one – a travelling German doctor by the name of Gutefeder. The man had saved his life, an act that Scrooge had rewarded him grandly for. It was a tiny piece of rock, he'd told him then, barely the size of a pea.

Originally.

Slowly, Scrooge took the bottle of pills Gutefeder had made especially for him, unscrewing the cap and taking out a couple of capsules into his hand. He downed them both, not bothering with the water, and swallowed, watching the glow carefully.

A minute passed. Then a second. Then, the glow started to subside slowly, until it was gone.

Scrooge backed away from the mirror, watching his reflection warily, in case the glow came back. Even as he crawled back into bed and laid his head down, he kept his eyes on trained on the mirror, his own haunted, fearful eyes staring back at him through the night.

Sleep was slow to come.