Present Day

As Gladstone Gander walked through the streets of Edinburgh, he noticed a certain buzz in the air. Words like "lost prince" and "Louie" and "alive" were repeated in hushed tones around him, bringing a sparkle of hope to dead eyes and a spring to trudging steps. Gladstone hadn't seen the city like this since that short period after the end of the Revolution, before life had settled into the gloomy drudgery that post-Revolution life had become.

Gladstone neared a crowd on the corner surrounding a newsboy, all clambering for a paper. A bundle of white on the ground caught his eye, and with a couple of "pardon me"s and "I'm terribly sorry"s, Gladstone had his own copy of the morning paper, freshly printed and plucked from the ground.

He brushed away the dirt, unfolded the paper, and started skimming the headlines. Mostly the usual—unemployment was up, crop yields were down, and the deposed king was doing just fine for himself exiled in Duckburg.

But one headline in particular caught his eye:

LOST PRINCE—ALIVE?

Gladstone skimmed through the article eagerly. He never took much stock in rumors, especially this one, but this might just be the break they had been waiting for.

Lost prince...body never found...Gladstone felt a pang in his chest as he skipped the part where the article described what had happened that night long ago. Ah, there it was—"Emerson Harrell, the palace guard who had long claimed to have witnessed the death of the young prince, has recanted his account of what he saw that night." Gladstone raised his eyebrows in surprise as he kept reading.

"This raises the possibility that the young prince may have survived the Revolution and could even still be alive somewhere. Government officials dismissed the claim as pure speculation, stating once again that the Royal Family is gone and that Scotland is free of their tyranny. In Duckburg, the former king's offer of a monetary reward in exchange for the prince's safe return remains open. An increase in the volume of fraudulent claims is expected."

Despite himself, a glimmer of hope fluttered in Gladstone's chest. Louie? Alive? Gladstone shook his head. He couldn't be. Where could he have disappeared to all these years? Nah, he'd probably run off into the woods and frozen or starved to death, his body picked apart by wild animals long before anybody came along to find it.

The real Louie was almost certainly dead, but…

"Gladstone! There you are!" Lena, former street urchin and Gladstone's partner-in-crime (or, as he preferred to put it, partner-in-survival), came running up. "Where have you been?"

"Oh, just reading the paper," Gladstone said, showing her the front page.

Lena made a face. "Ugh, that again?" she asked.

"The rumors are back and stronger than ever," he said eagerly. "It's time."

"Are you sure?" Lena asked doubtfully. "Last time—"

"Hey, if it ends up like last time, we'll shut it down again, no big deal. Besides, we didn't find a Louie last time. If the time is right, my luck will lead us right to one."

A few streets over, a small, young duck who went by the name of Lucas was sweeping the street. Engrossed in his task, he bumped into a well-dressed man walking by. After a few quick, deft swipes of his fingers, he circled around and bumped into the man again, skillfully replacing a much lighter wallet to the man's pocket before continuing his sweeping as if nothing had happened.

It was a con he pulled once or twice a day to supplement his own meager earnings. He only targeted finely-dressed officials and businessmen, and he never completely cleaned out their wallets and billfolds. That way, they didn't suspect anything was amiss until it was too late.

A sudden bang! sent the duck scrambling for cover with a yelp.

"Whoa there, kiddo," said a very dapper-looking goose. "It was just a truck backfiring."

"Yeah. Nothing to worry about," said his much younger companion, helping the kid up.

"Yeah. Yeah, I know," said Lucas, brushing the dirt off of his jacket as an excuse to hide his face while he tried to catch his breath and calm his racing heart.

The goose cleared his throat, giving his companion a meaningful look (though Lucas would be hard-pressed to say exactly what it meant), and then frowned at him. "You're shaking," he said. "Why don't you sit down for a moment—"

"I'm fine," Lucas said a little too quickly. He pulled away, but then tried for a smile. "But thank you."

The girl frowned. "Whoa, what are you in such a rush for?" she asked.

Lucas looked at the huge clock towering over the city a few blocks away. "I have somewhere to be," he said. He turned and left, walking down the street to return his pushbroom to the municipal building. When he turned around, the goose and duck were still there, and Lucas jumped.

"Let us escort you, at least," the goose said. He grinned. "To protect you from any more trucks."

Lucas felt his face grow warm.

"Yeah, I'm sure it can't be that far," the girl said. "Where are we headed?"

Lucas shook his head. "Trust me. You don't want to come."

The goose put an arm around his shoulders. This close, Lucas could see that he was part duck. "Try us. There aren't very many places in this city we aren't willing to go," he said.

Lucas scowled and pushed the goose's arm off of him. "I can't tell you."

The goose turned to his companion. "Oooh! A surprise!"

The other duck rolled her eyes. "I just love surprises," she said sarcastically.

Lucas groaned, and the trio walked in silence until the the two tagalongs decided to start guessing where they were headed.

"Is it the waterfront?"

"The park?"

"The university?"

"The cemetery?"

"The library?"

"The market?"

After what felt like forever, they reached the foot of Bin Rock1. With a growl, Lucas turned to face his two tails.

"I'm going up to the old Money Bin," he said, fully expecting them to make their excuses and bail out. But instead, they exchanged a look.

"Oh?" the goose said a little too nonchalantly. "What for?"

Lucas looked around to make sure the area was clear and lowered his voice. "To get travel papers."

"Travel papers? At the old Money Bin?" the girl repeated, mimicking his hushed tones and wide eyes. "From who?"

Lucas looked to the sky, silently asking for heaven's help and cursing every decision he'd ever made that had lead him to this point. This was supposed to be secret. Discrete. And all too suddenly, it was not.

"Gladstone," he said. "I was told he could help, though I'm not allowed to tell you who told me that...what's with the creepy smile?"

The goose made a sweeping gesture towards the top of the hill. "Step into my office," he said.

1 1Bin Rock is named for Castle Rock in Edinburgh, upon which Edinburgh Castle sits. It's also a reference to Killmotor Hill, where the Money Bin is located in the comics.