Duncan MacQuack lifted his wing imperceptibly and peered out from under it with one eye. He hadn't heard anything, but he thought that feeling was coming on...like swallowing bread a few days too old. The sense of another Immortal. Duncan looked over to Tessa, but she was still quietly tucked into her sleeping position: head under wing, on one leg. She obviously hadn't heard anything, so it must have been the sensation that woke him up. On quiet webbed feet Duncan waddled toward the bush next to their sleeping grounds. This was where he kept not only their precious extra breadcrumbs, but also the swords he took from those he defeated. Whoever this nutquacker invading Duncan's home was, he would soon pay for it. Duncan slipped the katana from its secret hiding place among his feathers and clasped it before him between his wings, stancing himself as the other duck turned, a piece of bread in his bill and a sword from Duncan's collection between the tips of his wings. The young drake dropped the bread in shock.

"I am Duncan MacQuack of the Clan MacQuack," Duncan introduced himself in calm duck language. "And you are dead."

"Dead?" the young one said nervously. "I was just...uh...leaving." Duncan simply offered an angry stare. "Look, I'll put all this back. It's over, okay?"

"It's over when I cut off your head," Duncan said flatly.

"Cut off my head?" The other duck's eyes widened. "You don't think that's a little extreme? Or are you just some sort of cannibal duck?"

"Mac," Tessa said gently, waddling up behind him, "he's just a duckling."

Duncan shook his head, a new sensation coming on. "There's someone..."

Through the thrashing of branches, a new duck dropped into the space under the bush. He hacked at a few branches with his sword. "I'm Slan Quack," he said, "and I've come for your head."

"I'm on American's Funniest Ducks, right?" the young duck said with growing nervousness.

"And you must be the one who makes him a lucky duck," Slan said, nodding to Tessa. "Don't worry, you'll get to know me, my dear."

"Mac!" Tessa exclaimed in fright.

The malice glittered in Duncan's eyes. "Did you come to fight, or talk?"

"He's not going to fight you, Duncan," said yet another newcomer in a gravelly quack. This new duck was bearing a katana as well, and wore a trenchcoat and white tennis shoes. He circled with Slan. "Not until he's made you suffer, until he's destroyed everything you love in this world, until he's eaten all your breadcrumbs, until you don't know whether you want to live or die. That's your way, right Slan?"

"Connor, what are you doing here?" Duncan said in mild irritation.

Connor spun his sword at his side, repositioning it. "Headhunting." He narrowed his eyes at Slan. "Sorry, Duncan, but this one's mine."

Duncan looked down. "Nice shoes."

Connor shrugged. "Couldn't waste all my wing strength on flying when I was anticipating a fight, now could I?"

"Man, these drakes are out there," the young duck said, running a few steps before flapping his wings urgently to get away.

"Let the duckling go," Connor said, never taking his eyes from Slan.

"My challenge was to Duncan MacQuack, not you, whoever you are," Slan said, his ducky eyes glittering.

"I'm Connor MacQuack...same flock, different pond."

"Ah yes...you!" Duncan and Connor both advanced, and Slan held up a wing. "Ah ah ah, not two against one."

Connor twitched his bill. "Thanks, Slan, I know the rules. You and me. Now." Connor attacked viciously, and the two drakes clashed swords repeatedly before Slan flung a brittle pine cone toward Connor and it shattered at his feet.

The sounds of quacking from awakened flock members came to their ears. "Sounds like we're about to have company, gentlemen. Til we meet again." Slan crashed through a nearby bush and disappeared into the night. Connor waddled toward the new exit, but Duncan stopped him with the flat of his blade. Duncan smirked, and Connor smiled -- as much as a duck can smile.

"Heh heh heh," Connor's staccato quack filled the air. "You look good." With a flourish Connor leaped through the hole in the branches and was gone.

Duncan watched Tessa frolic in the pond's edge, but kept a wary eye on the shore. There were enough dangers without other Immortals about, but Slan Quack's presence had made Duncan even edgier. Just this morning it had ruffled Duncan's feathers to hear some humanling yell, "look, Mommy, a headless duck." His heart had pounded before the mother replied, "No, dear, it's just sleeping...see, the head's there under the wing." Later, Duncan had witnessed another obnoxious human boy trying to soap a duckling's underbelly, which would take the oil from the feathers and leave the duck to sink. Duncan shuddered. Who needed evil Immortals when there was a species like that about?

Tessa finally left the pond, shaking the water from her feathers and playfully sprinkling Duncan with a few drops. He pushed her gift toward her. "Happy Birthday."

"And you got these sardines from Napoleon's own cellar, I suppose," she teased.

"No," he chided her, "they're only a little bit older than you are." He nuzzled her neck. "You're beautiful."

"Heh. And a year older."

"And still beautiful," he tried to charm her.

"When we met, you were the older drake..."

Duncan gave a short quack. "Much."

"Now, we look the same age," Tessa continued. "Soon..." She sighed. "The problem is, no matter how old you get, you'll always look the same, while you will watch me grow older and get grey feathers. And it will just be a matter of time before you want someone else..." Duncan shook his head. "Or maybe I will?"

"You'll want a younger duck?" Duncan asked. "Not exactly hard to find."

"Maybe," Tessa said slowly, "I'll want someone I can grow old with."

Duncan sighed. "I want the same thing. To grow old with you. To raise ducklings with you."

"I know there have been other ducks...other loves," Tessa said. "After a century or two, do you learn how to cope?"

"Cope? With the loss?" Duncan asked perceptively. "Hmm?" he nudged her gently with his bill. "No matter how many years go by, or how many times you quack for the ones you love, when they leave..."

Tessa shook her head. "Die."

"Yes," Duncan conceded. "When they die...you're featherless and alone." He nudged her again. "Now why don't we stop talking about something that's not going to happen for a while, and concentrate on what's going to happen...later on tonight." Duncan grinned a ducky grin.

"And what's going to happen tonight?" Tessa looked down her bill at him, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

Duncan laughed. "I'm going to chase you across the pond again," he said in a husky quack. "And when I catch you..."

Duncan was polishing his sword against his feathers while Tessa was rooting up grubs for dinner when he felt the sensation again. Cautiously Duncan edged past Tessa, his sword raised.

"Is someone here?" she asked.

"Someone with a long lifeline." Duncan sidled up to the hedge and peered around it just as another brown head peered from the other side. Both ducks quacked with mirth as Connor MacQuack waddled around the hedge.

"Tessa," Duncan said with a smile, "you've already met Connor MacQuack."

Connor shuffled his tennis-shoed feet nervously. "I'm a friend of Duncan's from the old flocking grounds."

With a nod of his head, Duncan invited Connor behind the hedge to spar, unseen by other ducky eyes. The pair swung swords at each other, emitting cackling quacks in their joy of the fight. A few dislodged feathers drifted to the ground.

Once they were done sparring, they returned to Duncan and Tessa's territory, and Connor offered to prepare a meal from the hearty grubs Tessa had collected.

"You sure you wouldn't rather use a sword, Connor?" Tessa teased.

"I take it that what you saw last night was...new?" Connor gave Duncan a look, then nodded. "New."

"Yes, as a matter of fact it is quite new for Tessa," Duncan conceded.

"How long have you two known each other?" Tessa asked. "Are you related?"

"We're clansfowl," Duncan replied. "When I was a duckling, there was a legend in my flock about an odd duck in my grandfather's time who was killed in migration wars and miraculously revived."

"Everyone thought it was humancraft...genetic engineering," Connor added.

"I thought it was an old duck's tale." Duncan grinned. "Until one day..."

"I know," Tessa said, "someone killed you, but you didn't die."

"And then I found him...well...you know...the way someone found me." Connor pushed the slugs around, rearranging them again.

"Connor taught me everything I needed to survive as an Immortal," Duncan said, beginning to waddle in a pacing pattern across their living space. "The rules...the tactics needed to win..."

"As once someone taught me," Connor interjected.

"Win what? Why does this Slan duck want Duncan?" At their silence, Tessa continued sarcastically, "Please, don't say anything in front of the lady. Let me just go around the bush and preen my feathers while you have vintage bread crumbs and talk about beheadings."

"I told Tessa some of it," Duncan said in response to Connor's angry and somber stare. "I thought I was out of it. She didn't need to know all the rules..."

"You're not out of it anymore," Connor responded, his feathers ruffling with anger. "There can be only one -- remember that rule?"

"One what?" Tessa asked, frightened. "One of you? Only one Immortal left in the end? Is that it?" She shifted angrily on her webbed feet. "And what does the winner get?"

"The last one..." Connor paused. "Will have the power of all the Immortals that ever lived. Enough power to rule this planet forever, humans and waterfowl alike. Along with a lifetime supply of bread and sardines." He twitched his tail feathers. "If someone like Slan is that last one, duckkind will suffer an eternity of darkness from which it will never recover. And then there will be no hope for ducks ruling the world, ever."

"And you didn't think this was important enough to mention?" Tessa shot accusingly at Duncan.

He shrugged his wings. "It's nothing new..."

"It is to me," she retorted.

"You can't stay out of the Game, Duncan," Connor interrupted. "You've tried before."

"Dammit, Connor," Duncan quacked. "It had nothing to do with the Game. And you know that."

1872

Sobs escaped from the bill of Duncan MacQuack as he cradled the lifeless body of an elegant lady duck in his wings. The duck had been his lover, the one he wanted to marry -- Little Duck. "She knew the names...of all the grasses...the wildflowers...everything we fed on...the duck songs that told where her flock migrated every year..."

Connor spread a wing over his clansduck's shoulders. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Duncan rose slowly, taking the limp body and placing it on the funeral pyre. Connor stood next to him as the body burned, the sickening smell of roast duck wafting in the air. "Do you think we ever lived like this, like a true flock?" Connor asked. "Together with a common quacking, a reason and a quack for each living thing? Did we belong somewhere, a time, a place, however briefly?"

The present -- later that day

Duncan and Connor had gone back behind the hedge to spar again, taunting each other with laughing quacks. Afterward, they bathed at the edge of the pond. Tessa approached them as they were shaking off the droplets of water.

"What's wrong?" Duncan asked, noting her ruffled feathers.

"Slan quacked a message," she replied tersely.

"And what did he say?"

"He'll be on the paddleboat dock tonight."

Duncan frowned. "That's not all, is it?"

"When he's finished with you, he'll be back for me." Tessa shook her head. "And he made some comment about duck a l'orange..."

In a huff, Duncan waddled under a nearby bush and settled down to sharpen his sword on the stones there. Connor watched him.

"You know, I've been thinking..." Connor began.

Duncan gave a sly ducky grin.

"Why are you smiling, 'cause I've been thinking?" Connor laughed. "Well, anyway... as long as I can remember knowing you..."

"Oh, not again," Duncan groaned.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"You don't know what I'm going to say." Connor began to speak again, gesturing with his wings. "As long as I remember knowing you, you've had all the fun and most of the good ducks."

"Lately."

"Lately?" Connor repeated.

"That's what I said."

Connor waddled over to where Duncan was polishing his sword. "What are you talking about?"

"Well, I seem to remember that chick in London..." Duncan grinned. "The mallard...healthy duck."

Connor was beginning to fume. "Come on, that was almost a...a hundred and sixty years ago!"

"That's what I said, lately."

Connor wanted to wipe the fowl smirk off Duncan's face. "You know what your problem is," he quacked angrily, "you live in the past."

"I don't have a problem."

"Yes you do."

"No I don't."

"Yes you do."

"No I don't -- stop arguing with me, you're ruffling my feathers!"

"I'm not arguing," Connor countered.

"Yes you are."

"No -- it's conversation."

"It's conversation?" Duncan repeated with a smirk. "Well...end of conversation."

"Oh, easy way out, huh?" Connor retorted. "The usual." Connor smoothed his feathers as he began to walk away, then he turned back. "Duncan?"

"What?" Duncan slowly turned around, and with one wing Connor batted him over backwards.

"End of conversation."

"Mac!" Tessa squawked, rushing to Duncan's side.

"He was arguing!" Connor protested as Tessa shot him a nasty look. "Don't worry, he's going to be okay."

"You don't have to go either," she said quietly.

Connor waved a wing toward Duncan. "We don't have a choice." He looked at Tessa. "I hope to see you again," he said, ducking under the edge of the bush and heading toward the dock.

"Mac," Tessa's voice came through Duncan's hazy mind. "Mac?"

Duncan slowly roused from his unconscious state. "Where is he?" he mumbled.

Tessa paused, stroking Duncan's head with her wing. "Where do you think?" she said gently. Duncan groaned, flapping his wings as he righted himself. "I know you have to go," Tessa said, following him. "Tell me, does anyone, anywhere know why? Just why?"

Duncan picked up his katana in his wings. "Tessa, I won't be back, even if I win."

"After all this time, is it that simple for you?"

"Of course not!" Duncan quacked. "But you didn't know..."

"I do now..."

"It will happen again," he quacked emphatically.

"I don't care!" she cried, throwing her wings around him.

"Tessa..." Duncan pushed her from him. He looked into her eyes for a long moment. "I love you." Duncan pecked her lovingly on the cheek and then was gone.

Connor did not notice the young drake shadowing him on the way to the docks. He was too intent on facing Slan Quack in this showdown. Slan saw the shadow, but was surprised to see the tennis shoe-clad duck rather than Duncan.

"Don't look so disappointed, Slan," Connor quacked. "When was the last time you had such an enthusiastic opponent?"

"Maybe you're right," Slan said, drawing his sword from his feathers as Connor did the same. "This could be fun."

The two ducks began to fight savagely, striking with swords, pecking, kicking. The young drake watched from the shelter of a nearby bush, unnoticed. Connor gave a vicious strike of his sword, running Slan through the middle. As he backed off for the beheading, Slan put his sword up defensively. Suddenly a stream of industrial-strength liquid soap sprayed from the end of the sword. Slan picked up a super-soaker to finish off the sudsing job, and the force of the stream knocked Connor into the pond. With the oil washed from his feathers, Connor sank beneath the water like an anchor.

Just then Duncan arrived. "Slan!" he quacked loudly. "It's over now." The two struggled sword to sword, wing to wing. Their swords sparked, a threat in itself to the wooden docks. At last Duncan got the upper hand, bringing Slan to his knees. "Finish it, Ducklander," Slan hissed.

"There can be only one," Duncan intoned as he stroked his katana downward. The power of the Quackening surged, lightning shooting through Duncan's body, the electricity singeing his feathers as quacking screams emerged from his throat. As the Quackening subsided, Duncan saw the duckling drake.

"Whoa, chill man, just...just pretend I'm not here."

Duncan grabbed his katana and dived off the docks after the body of his clansfowl.

Connor gasped for breath as Duncan dragged his body to the edge of the pond. The water had washed the soap from Connor's feathers, and the Immortality had quickly allowed his body to recover his ability to float.

"Now this won't come as a surprise," Duncan smirked, "but you'll live."

Connor quacked out a laugh. "I should have known it, you're never on time." He paused. "Slan?"

"I handled it."

Connor sighed. "As I said, you have all the fun and most of the good ducks."

Duncan shook his head. "Connor, I'm not going back to Tessa. I cannot put her through this again."

"I understand," Connor replied, "but she won't."

Duncan put a wing under Connor and helped his clansfowl to his feet. Connor spotted the young drake still watching them. "What about the duckling? He'll need watching."

"I know." Duncan nodded. "I will."

Tessa preened her feathers nervously, waiting for news. She jumped as she heard someone approach. "Mac?" she called out. Instead, Connor waddled into view. "Connor, are you all right?" she asked, disturbed by his disheveled appearance.

"Yeah, I'm okay, don't worry." Connor seated himself and began to ruffle his damp feathers to dry them.

"Where's Mac?" Tessa inquired fearfully.

"He's alive," Connor asserted. "And Slan won't be quacking at you anymore."

There was determination in Tessa's face. "Connor, where did Mac go?"

"He didn't tell me..." Connor ducked his head downward, then turned it back to Tessa with a smile. "But I can guess."

"Where?"

Connor's expression turned serious. "Do you really want to know?"

Tessa nodded, her eagerness displayed on her face.

Duncan had been meditating when he heard a sound in the rushes. He'd retreated to the island on the far side of the pond, where he'd found solace after Little Duck's death so long ago. From among the tall rushes emerged two figures -- his lady Tessa, and clansduck Connor. Tessa quickly waddled into his arms.

"I love you," she quacked endearingly. "I love you..."

"It hasn't ended...you know that," Duncan said to her. "It won't end until..."

"We don't know when it's gonna end," Connor interrupted. "We never do." He gave the pair a ducky smile. "But while we're here, living in this time and this place, some of us...the lucky few...will still have all the fun..." He grinned wider. "And..."

"All the good ducks," Duncan chimed in.

Connor shuffled his feet, the tennis shoes squishing on the muddy ground. "Listen, I gotta go. The old fowl are whispering that you want to be alone."

"You're welcome to stay," Duncan offered.

Connor only stared back for a moment, then turned his attention to Tessa. "Goodbye, Tessa."

"Will I..."

"I hope so." Connor returned his gaze to his clansfowl. "Duncan."

"Connor." Duncan watched the other drake flap his wings and take off into the air.

"You didn't say goodbye?" Tessa questioned.

Duncan shook his head. "We never do." He smiled down at Tessa. "How about you and me having a good chase across the pond..."