eye, the same shredded shirt, the same stunned expression.
No one can tell who’s who.
But I can.
I know people’s hearts.
And I also know that this spell will sustain for only a minute before we revert into our bodies.
Some of the Tedroses stir with recognition.
They remember this spell.
They remember how long it lasts.
Which is why they start to run.
Hort, Hester, Nicola, Beatrix, Kiko . . . My former students too: Guinevere, Robin, the Sheriff . . . All my Tedroses sprint for the drawbridge, baffling the pirates and leaders, who don’t know whether to chase these Tedroses or escape with them. More of my Tedroses join the flight—Aja, Anadil, Dot, Valentina, Ravan, Mona—dashing for Camelot’s gates and the freedom of the Woods.
Sophie is the last to run, dragged off by Robin, who she must recognize from his cap, because she doesn’t fight. She peeks back anxiously as if panicked by the thought of being free . . . of saving herself while leaving so many Tedroses behind. . . .
Only two of my Tedroses don’t flee, looking just as dazed as the enemy Tedroses around them. The two Tedroses I knew wouldn’t run, not without finding each other first.
I’m already on my feet, stumbling downhill, my broken body masked by Tedros’ form.
Thirty seconds left.
I push myself to run faster, even as I feel myself fading. I rush into the crowd of bewildered Tedroses and grab Agatha by her tattered shirt, the bag with my crystal still on her arm—
“It’s me,” I whisper, hearing my voice as Tedros’, deep and assured.
Agatha’s princely face softens. “Tedros?” she mouths.
I clasp her arm tightly. “Spell breaks in twenty seconds. Get Dovey. Take her into the Woods. She’ll lead us to the Caves of Contempo. That’s where Merlin is.”
I can see the other Tedroses zeroing in on us. We’re the only ones talking.
“What about you?” Agatha presses.
“If we run together, Rhian and his men will know it’s us. I’ll meet you at the old League hideout in one hour. Then we’ll go to the caves.”
“I can’t leave you—”
“You will if you want me to stay alive,” I say, my glare so sure it quiets her. “One hour. Go. Now.”
“Which one is Dovey?” Agatha breathes.
I point to the real Tedros.
“That one,” I say, watching him claw out from under a pile of clones, scanning the field for his princess. “Get Dovey to the Woods. We need to rescue Merlin.” I reach for her bag, determined to get my crystal away from her. “I’ll take this.”
“No,” Agatha retorts, wrenching it back with more strength than I can challenge. Her steeliness burns through her prince’s blue eyes. “One hour or I’m coming back for you.”
And then she’s running, diving for Tedros and seizing him by the wrist and dragging him towards the Woods, thinking it’s me. Tedros doesn’t resist, either because he knows it’s Agatha or because it happens too fast for him or anyone else to understand—
But Rhian sees them.
His Tedros knows exactly what’s happening.
He won’t let them get away.
His eyes fly to his sword on the ground.
He bolts for Excalibur—
I’m there first.
I hold up King Arthur’s sword to the boy who claims to be his son, the boy who thinks he’s king, the boy who pulled this sword out of the stone and who I could kill by its tip.
But I’ve only killed for one person in my life.
A friend I still haven’t learned to live without.
Rhian doesn’t deserve such a fate.
I have other ways.
“This is Tedros!” I declare to Rhian’s men around me, pointing Excalibur at the king. “This is the impostor! This is him!”
An army of Tedroses converge on the king.
Rhian backs up. “No . . . wait . . . he’s Tedros. He’s him!” Then he gapes at me, his self-assurance cracking beneath Tedros’ facade. “But if you’re Tedros . . .” He looks back at Agatha and the prince, hurtling for the Woods. “Then who are—”
“Get him!” I cry.
“No!” Rhian screams.
But it’s too late. The hyenas taste blood. His men besiege him.
I sink to my knees, Excalibur spilling out of my hands into the grass, my body drained of life despite its veneer of youth. Inside, my lungs wither. My heart falters. My eyes cloud as if I’m already far away.
As Rhian is crushed beneath his own mob, I look back at my two Tedroses, helping each other over the gatehouse wall that separates the castle from the Woods.
Suddenly they freeze, as if something in their touch has given it away. Agatha stares at