Covers
RATING: G
SUMMARY: What do you do when the worst enemy you've ever had switches sides, and your best friend and former team captian dies?
WARNINGS: Violence.
DISCLAIMER: I NO OWN. NO MONEY. NO SUE.
‘Well, never judge a book by its cover’ Missie thought. One would think she’d have learned that lesson years ago, yet here she was, now, and shocked by the turn of events in a book she thought she’d already finished.
Duçula, her sadistic evil, back stabbing, traitorous enemy, wanted nothing less then to suddenly switch sides again, and join the Mighty Ducks.
Missie simply couldn’t believe it. All these years, she’d thought Duçula to be a monster, and then she suddenly shows up on their doorstep, injured and with a story that she’d betrayed Dragounus and so had to flee. A plausible story, but Missie wouldn’t put it below her to inflict the injury on herself and sneak in that way. After all, about 4 years ago she’d disguised herself as Christé and stayed hidden among them for 3 months.
Yet, she supposed, she probably hadn’t seen everything about Duçula yet. Duçula was a book she thought read, only to discover she’d only read the back, looked at the cover and read a few reviews.
And now she had to meet the team in the Ready Room to decide on her nemesis’ fate. It was something she never thought she’d have to do. Something she didn’t want to do.
Missie sighed, and headed for the Ready Room. Time to make a choice.
***
Duçula leaned against the wall of the Ready Room, drawing in deep, clean breathes of air. Grin stood a short distance away, but Duçula strangely felt no animosity towards him. He was like a great friend. Somehow, she felt like he was protecting her, not protecting against her.
She looked around the room. It was beautiful, bright and cheery. She was seeing this world with new eyes- the last time she’d been here, she’d seen the dark, the shadows. Now she saw beauty.
She couldn’t explain it, exactly. How could you explain that, during a temporary alliance to defeat a common enemy you turned your own power on yourself to see if what that enemy told you was true? Truth had told her that ‘your soul is not as dark as you believe’ and sure enough, hers was murky. Not quite light, yet not quite black either.
And over the last couple months she’d been having the strangest feeling. She’d felt guilty. She hadn’t felt guilty for years. And now, after all this time…
The worst part, however, was that her conscience kept attacking her. And her sense of moral duty had come back, and her standards had somehow risen on her, and she felt the urge to help people.
Duçula wondered if that’s what being a guardian felt like. She’d never known. Missie and the others believed that she’d grown up on Puckworld, as the daughter of Drave and Carrie DuCaine. But she hadn’t. And now she had to tell them the truth.
She idly turned the ring she wore around her finger. They hadn’t taken it away- Duçula had worn that ring for centuries. It wasn’t a weapon, but it could be used as an escape route, because it created a small gateway into dimensional limbo. If the Mighty Ducks had realized that they most certainly would’ve taken it away from her. But then she couldn’t do what she would do soon.
Duçula intended to prove to the ducks once and for all, that she was on their side.
***
Wildwing sighed. He never thought he’d be conducting an occasion like this. Truth be told he didn’t want to. But at the same time he had to find out just what side Duçula was really on.
He stood, and looked around the Ready Room. His entire team was assembled here. In the 7 years they’d been on earth, their original six had expanded to include humans, Saurians, Guardians, a Jin, an Atlantian, even a Plutonian. Amazing to think about even more amazing to look at. Now they had to decide whether they were to include a betrayer in their midst.
He turned to look at the betrayer herself. Duçula leaned against a wall, blissfully smiling at nothing. Wildwing sighed again, and nodded to Grin. The huge duck tapped Duçula on the shoulder, then motioned for her to step forward. Duçula grinned at him, and quietly said, “Thank you.”
The words echo crazily in the huge, deathly silent Ready Room. Everyone looked at her, and she calmly walked to where the whole team could see her.
“Do you promise to tell the absolute truth in this investigation?” Wildwing asked her solemnly.
Duçula nodded once, then added, “Yes.”
“Your full, complete, name?” Wildwing asked.
Duçula paused, then softly said, “Duçula DeCoy.”
Murmurs of surprise sounded through the room. “Not DuCaine?” Wildwing asked, arms crossed.
“No.”
“Age?”
“In earth years, I would be 26. In Limbo years, I’m 19.”
“Limbo years?” Wildwing looked at her sharply.
“Time passes strangely in Limbo. In Limbo, one could spend 2 minutes, then come back to find 20 years had gone by. Or, conversely, go in there for 20 years, and find only 2 minutes have gone by.”
“Why are you giving us your age in Limbo years?” Wilding demanded.
Duçula took several deep breaths. “Andrake will remember me growing up with him on Puckworld. However, I didn’t. Drave and Carrie’s real daughter, Denai did. I used Saurian and Betrayer abilities to wipe her out of every memory and replacing her with me. In reality I grew up in Limbo.”
“Who are your real parents then?” Wildwing demanded.
“Lucretia DeCoy and a Saurian shapeshifter who went only by the name ‘Kaleidoscope’.”
The team members looked at each other talking softly yet excitedly.
“Wait!” Duçula cried, holding up her hand, “Before any questions more are asked, let me offer you something.”
Wildwing looked at her sharply. “What?”
Duçula sighed. “I’ll help you get Canard back.”
Wildwing had to hold himself back. Part of him wanted to run and hug her for offering, part of him wanted to throttle her for being so cruel. Part of him wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of it, and yet another part wanted to sob at the hopelessness of it all. “You can do that?” He asked at last.
“Pick the team members you want to help and we can get him now.”
Wildwing bit his beak. The idea seemed too good to be true, but if it worked… “Duke and Missie. You’re coming.”
Those two ducks nodded, and rose from their seats to join him at the front.
“Stay close together,” Duçula warned, then twisted the rock on her ring. A pinpoint of light started on the rock, then shot out to create a small, bright gateway. “Hurry through!” Duçula yelled, and the four darted inside.
The moment the were through, the gate closed leaving those left behind staring anxiously at the place where they’d disappeared.
***
“It’s beautiful,” Duke gasped, looking around him at a multicolored, bright, chaotic place.
“It’s home,” Duçula sighed. “But we’d better find Canard.”
“Wait!” Duke glanced at Wildwing. He was pointing to wards a person up ahead, a person who was sitting staring off into space. “Isn’t that Lucretia?”
“Not any more,” Duçula said softly. “Limbo strips you of everything you are, memories first, then sanity, then senses, then even molecular cohesion. Within a few months, where she was will be nothing. Limbo does that to a person.”
“But we’ve shill got to get her back!” Wildwing cried. “After all she’s done…”
“Would it be fair to punish someone with no mind?” Duçula asked softly. “With no knowledge of even what a crime was, much less that she’d done one?” She shook her head. “We have to find your friend. In Limbo, seconds can mean life or death.”
Everyone nodded, though Wildwing shot Lucretia one more glance over his shoulder, eyes burning red.
Duke had to admit he agreed with Duçula’s point. After all, he’d given up on his life of crime for good now and he wouldn’t want to be prosecuted for the thing’s he’d done in the past.
He let his eyes stray across Limbo. His natural eye saw the beautiful colors, but his cybernetic eye saw more interesting things: powerful energy fluctuations, power surges, and fissures in the walls. As his eyes scanned the walls, he suddenly froze. “Wildwing!” he yelled unsure if his eyes were deceiving him. “Look!”
Wildwing, Missie and Duçula all looked the way he was pointing. High, above their heads, was a casmic struggle. A glowing energy worm surrounded a large, heavily armored figure who was furiously fighting to free himself. Together, twisting and turning, the worm and its captive were plummeting towards the ground.
“He hasn’t hit the ground yet?!” Wildwing yelled. It was difficult to tell whether it was a question or a statement.
“I told you,” Duçula yelled back “Limbo skews time! Missie! Can you get him out?!”
Missie shook her head. “Too much interference. I may be able to get away to free him once he hits the ground, though.”
“Good, cause it’s gonna be soon!” Duke cried and all four jumped back as the worm landed with a tremendous crash! Shivers traveled across the ground, and the three ducks leapt back as Missie held up her hands, pure energy forming around them.
She held them out then screamed, “Die, worm!” The blue-white energy that formed the worm was sucked into her hands, causing her to briefly glow, then the glow disappeared as she raced to Canard’s side.
He was convulsing violently. His face twitching. Missie clutched his large hand and gasped, “Canard! Hold on Canard please.”
Canard turned his head to look at her with eyes glazed over. He was sweating profusely, and his voice sounded very weak as he said, “You remembered, Wildwing. To be there when I died…”
“You’re not dying, Canard,” Wildwing said fiercely, kneeling beside his best friend.
Canard turned to look at him and smiled weakly. “Wildwing. How’d you manage to get here so fast? You’re wearing the mask.”
“It’s been 7 years, Canard,” he said gently “Limbo skewed your sense of time, but we can get you back now.”
“No Wildwing,” Canard interrupted. “You can’t rescue me this time.” He coughed suddenly, painfully, and paused for a moment, teeth grit against a scream. Then he looked up at the two other ducks, who stood silently. “Duke. How’ve you been?”
Duck sighed. “Good, Canard. We’ve chased Dragaunus to this little planet. It’s called Earth. You’d like it there.”
Canard smiled slightly. “I’ve read about it in legends.” Then he turned to Duçula. “Who’re you?”
“Duçula DeCoy,” she said softly.
“DeCoy. Any relation to Lucretia?”
“She’s my mother.”
Canard shifted slightly. “I never liked her. Don’t turn out like she did.”
Duçula smiled sadly. “I’m working on it.”
Canard began to cough, hard. “Wildwing,” he gasped. “Take care of my team alright?”
Wildwing squeezed Canard’s hand. “You’re coming back to take care of them yourself Canard.”
Canard shook his head. “Sorry Wing, I can’t. Wing-“
“Don’t try to talk, Canard. Just relax.” Wildwing interrupted. “You’re going to be all right.”
“NO- listen to me by Drake!” Some of his old fire came back to him for a moment. “I have to tell you something-” He burst into a volley of painful sounding, hacking coughing.
“Canard…” Wildwing began.
“Wildwing, I…I’m…” then his eyes closed and his head lolled as he went limp.
Wildwing bit his lower beak, eyes closed tight against tears. “He was trying to apologize,” he said softly. “How do I tell him I forgave him years ago?”
Duçula slid down to her knees beside Missie, and gently touched Canard’s chest. “I promise” she whispered softly. “I’ll make a team member that would have made you proud.”
Wildwing gently lifted the body of his best friend. “Duçula find us an exit.” He blinked back tears. “It’s time to go home.”
***
Duçula breathed deeply and let the sun bath her eyelids. Wildwing had chosen a beautiful place to bury Canard Thunderbeak, a small forest clearing with a little brook and cheery birds singing.
Gunshots rang out as they gave him the 21-gun salute, and Wildwing finished the eulogy of a hero’s funeral.
Duçula tightened her grip on the flowers she held, feeling the thorns dig into her hands. It was odd, but for once she felt like she belonged. It was as though Canard’s death had brought her acceptance. It was a terrible price to pay.
One by one the team members stepped forward. Each dropped a rose or a flower of some kind into the hole, then took the shovel and threw down a spadeful of dirt.
Duçula watched as one by one each member went forward. Duçula waited until everyone else had gone, then slowly walked forward. The others had left just enough room for her bouquet and a small spadeful of dirt, but Duçula had other ideas.
She gently laid the flowers on the ground beside the burial place, and gently scooped a little dirt into the area left over with her hands. She brushed them off carefully then laid the three violet roses on top of the grave.
“I will keep my promise to you, Canard,” Duçula said quietly, though all heard her voice in the deathly still clearing. “I will make you proud.” Then she felt the strangest feeling in her life, and for the first time in Duçula’s very long life, she cried.
And for the first time she had friends that reached out to comfort her.
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