Grace should've dressed more warmly than she did.

The snow flurries had only intensified as she'd trekked through the forest. The drab yellows and browns of the autumn forest were gradually being coated in the white of winter. Grace thought she'd be fine; she'd bundled up plenty. But the sharp wind knifed its way through her layers and left her wishing for a blazing fire in the manor hearth. She continued searching for Gideon, shivering in the cold. How her brother went galivanting around the forest so often, Grace would never understand. She preferred her comfort.

Grace stopped. No, wait. She knew why Gideon liked the forest. With what Gaston did to him so often. . .

She shuddered a little, and it wasn't entirely from the cold.

Of course Gideon would want to run away so often. Grace didn't know why Gideon didn't run away entirely and go live with the creatures of the forest. She'd tried to help him, she'd tried to stop it, but — well. . . she couldn't do much. She was afraid. She didn't get beaten, but she felt absolutely helpless. The town didn't dare question Gaston — Mother turned a blind eye to the abuse — the local cops were mostly Order members. Grace wanted to go to higher authority, like the state police, but she'd never learned to drive. Her access to the internet or phones was highly controlled by the network of Northwest servants, who were all in on it. And even if she did get help, the Order would just wipe the memories of those involved.

Before she'd outgrown the amulet, Grace was terrified that they'd force her to do that memory wiping. That she'd call in the law enforcement against Gaston, and they'd drag her to Order HQ to undo her efforts. What would she do then? Would she be brave enough to refuse?

But as time went on, she'd discovered something worse. She'd occasionally glimpsed people carrying away unconscious townspeople in the dank halls of the Order headquarters — even though she hadn't been there to wipe their memories.

Then one day, she had been summoned to the Order to wipe someone's memory, but circumstances had kept her. She could barely remember why she'd been late, but she remembered what had happened next. She'd stumbled out of the Northwest passage, rushed to the memory room — only to find a group of Order members holding a young man, already unconscious and clean of his memories.

The Order members had all jumped guiltily when they'd seen her, exchanging alarmed glances. Grace's hand went to her amulet. "What is the meaning of this?"

It took a minute before anyone answered her. "He was panicking," said Janice Corduroy. "We had to act quickly."

Grace looked around. Nobody met her eyes. "But how?" she demanded.

"Miss Northwest."

Grace turned. Blind Lincoln stood behind her, arms hidden within his robes, his face grave.

"Walk with me," he said.

She glanced back to the procession, which had already begun moving away. Then she followed the Order leader down the hall. "Lee," she said, desperately reaching for familiarity. She liked to think she could call Lincoln a friend. "Lee, what's going on? The Order doesn't have — another amulet holder." She looked up to him and whispered, "Do we?"

Lincoln shook his head. "No. I'm not sure why I was instructed to keep this a secret from your family, either. I suppose he wanted to keep you under his thumb as much as possible."

Grace knew exactly who he was. "Does he even have thumbs?" she asked, playing for humor. Whatever humor she could find in this deeply unsettling situation.

Her quip earned a chuckle from Lincoln, but it fell rather flat. "It certainly seems that way from this perspective, doesn't it?" he said.

Grace looked away. She and Lincoln both felt trapped; it was why they'd grown such a strong bond. The aging Order leader had reached out to her as a mentor and friend, even though he had no one to do the same for him. Grace liked to think she had helped him as much as he'd helped her, but she doubted that was actually the case. Still, he seemed happier when she was around.

Except now.

"What's going on, Lee?" she asked. "How do you wipe people's memories without me? I've seen other times, too, but I never. . . I didn't want to believe it."

Lincoln glanced to her sideways. "Because if it were true, we could wipe the authorities without your knowledge. If you were to alert them about Gaston's actions. Yes?"

Grace's heart skipped a beat. Lincoln expressed sympathy to her plight, to her brother's situation, but he wasn't acting as Order leader during those times. Sometimes, she completely forgot that Leader Lincoln had the same personal knowledge about her as Friend Lincoln had. "Yes," she admitted.

Lincoln closed his eyes. As he breathed in, Grace could almost see the melancholy mixed into the oxygen. He shook his sleeves up his arms, revealing a device held in his hands. A strange gun had been entirely concealed in his robe until now. "This gun can do the job of the amulet," he confessed. "I've been told that it entirely destroys the memories — it's not as neat as your method, which is why I believe we still rely primarily on the amulet. But in the past, we went into a bit of a crisis whenever there was no eligible Northwest to do the job." He glanced to the amulet on Grace's lapel. "Often," he said, "an eight-year-old Northwest would be tasked with wiping years of memories. A huge undertaking. Then someone created this gun, and now we use it as a backup for the amulet. This is how we performed memory wipings before you were of age, for example."

Grace's eyes flicked between Lincoln's face and the gun in his hand. The story made sense, but it brought up a terrible notion, especially if it destroyed memories entirely. "Is this. . . is this the gun that. . . ?"

Lincoln nodded solemnly. "So I'm told."

She once again had to look away as a heavy blanket of pity settled over her. A few years ago, when Grace was fifteen, Lincoln had shared his memory loss with her. Grace still wasn't sure why she deserved to know. She couldn't do anything about it, and Cipher had threatened her thoroughly afterwards, promising terrible things if she should share the knowledge with anyone. Some Order members knew of Lincoln's memory loss, but Cipher didn't want the information readily spread by those members. Grace suspected that, in the midst of judgmental cultists, Lincoln was just glad to share the knowledge with someone who loved him.

And Grace did love him. Almost like a father — to replace the lousy one she had.

Lincoln put a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay, Everly," he said, using her given name. She'd once confided in him that she sometimes felt guilty when people used her middle name — like she was supposed to be a saving grace for people, when in reality she was so trapped that she couldn't even help her family. Since then, Lincoln had only referred to her as 'Everly' in their private conversations. "Now you know," he said. "Once again, I imagine Lord Cipher won't want you to tell anyone about it."

Grace nodded. She had assumed this was the case. "So this is why," she said as another thought struck her. "This is why the amulet didn't work. Because the memories are. . . are gone completely." Soon after discovering Lincoln's memory loss, Grace had insisted on using her amulet to try to recover the memories. Lincoln had protested, had told her it wouldn't work, but she'd still wanted to try. It hadn't worked, of course. She hadn't even been able to see into Lincoln's head, much less find repressed memories to restore.

"That's part of it," Lincoln confirmed.

Grace went quiet. A rebellious notion popped up in her head. One she'd wanted to follow for years. Now that she knew about the memory gun, maybe she could.

"You're thinking about destroying the amulet," Lincoln said.

She started. Lincoln's uncanny ability to guess others' thoughts always caught her off guard. Perhaps her body language was just obvious, but Lincoln often stated things aloud that Grace had entirely planned on keeping to herself.

"It's not worth it," Lincoln continued. "Cipher will find a way to take it out on those you love."

Grace immediately thought of Gideon. Yes, Lincoln was right. If Grace destroyed the amulet, Gideon would somehow take the punishment. She'd find him huddled in the corner once more, dripping blood from his wounds and tears from his eyes.

"I know," she whispered.

Lincoln squeezed her shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said.

The words fell limply on Grace's ears. Part of her wanted to yell at Lincoln that all the sorrys in the world wouldn't fix her problems. But she knew he understood that.

As predicted, Cipher had appeared in Grace's dreams that night, forbidding her from telling anyone about the memory gun. He also confirmed that he would, in fact, find ways to make her suffer, should she destroy the amulet. "You wouldn't want to deprive your little brother from using it, would you?" he'd asked.

Grace had screamed and thrown a book at him.

Thankfully, Cipher hadn't appeared in her dreams since. And now, months later, she'd outgrown the amulet. She was no longer a part of the Order. She would have rejoiced, if not for the consequences. Her leaving the Order meant far fewer discussions with her friend. And worse, it meant her little brother replacing her.

If she had her way, Grace would keep Gideon away from the Order forever. If she had her way, she'd rescue him from Gaston, put him in a place where he was safe. Heck, she'd even be willing to raise him herself. That was legal at eighteen, right?

She moaned in frustration. Well, if she wanted to raise him, she'd have to be able to keep track of him. And that had been nearly impossible before he'd received the amulet.

She headed for the fairy dwelling with a sigh. Gideon had always been fascinated by the creatures — he seemed to appreciate their beauty, but above all, he envied their freedom. Grace had often found him sitting in their hollow silently, watching them as they went about their lives. The fairies acted annoyed by his presence, and Grace felt plenty of embarrassment whenever she had to apologize for his loitering. But the fairies never did anything to stop him from coming. Maybe they weren't as peeved about his habit as they seemed.

More and more fairies appeared as Grace drew close to their home. They quickly confirmed that she was on the right track — Gideon had once again set up shop in their city.

Of course he had.

Grace followed the fairies to the city. She ducked into the hollow of trees, where the city of fairies stretched out among the coniferous branches. Fairies flew around the hollow, popping in and out of buildings nestled in the pine needles. And there was Gideon, sitting at the base of a tree, gazing up at the small, winged humanoids.

"Charlie," Grace said.

He glanced up at her. "Oh, hi, Evi," he said.

Her stomach flipped as she remembered why she had come looking for him. She had to tell him something. . . but she didn't want to do it among all these listening ears. Fairies were terrible gossips.

She coaxed Gideon out of the hollow, apologizing to the fairies as she did. "I know it's peaceful in there, Char, but you gotta ask permission, okay?"

"They don't kick me out," Gideon said. "That's permission."

Grace sighed. She glanced sideways at her brother, about to respond to his statement.

That was when she noticed.

"Charlie," she said, "what happened to the amulet?"

Gideon glanced down at his lapel, where the attached amulet was no longer blue, but pink. "Oh," he said. "I'm, um, not actually Gideon."

Grace stopped. Gideon stopped too, shuffling his feet in the snow-speckled pine needles.

"What?" Grace asked. A simmering panic arose in her chest.

"I mean — it's okay," he replied. "I am Gideon, I'm just. . . I'm a clone," he said apologetically.

Grace blinked. Was this. . . some kind of new coping mechanism for him? But no, the amulet was a different color. What. . . ?

"This amulet doesn't work," Gideon — or, the Gideon clone? — said. "It's just a marker."

A marker for what? But that wasn't the most important question, so Grace ignored it for now. "Where's my brother?" she asked. "Where's the original Gideon?"

"Safe," the clone assured her. "I'm not actually the one who needs to talk to you. But I can lead you to them if you want."

"Them?" she repeated. "There are more clones?"

Gideon nodded. "There are nine of us. One is with the original Gideon, and the rest of us are out here. Four of us are headed back to the manor, I think. They need to see our parents."

"My parents," Grace said. She felt highly uncomfortable with the idea of other Gideons running around. "Could you take me to my brother?"

The clone bit his lip. "I'm not supposed to."

"C'mon, Char," she said. She almost accented the words with a light punch on the shoulder, but she held back. There were scars there. Or — there were on the real Gideon. "You can lead me to Gideon, and you can explain more about this on the way. Win-win."

The Gideon clone gave her a shrewd look. "Yeah, two wins for you."

"Exactly," Grace said. She didn't think a clone deserved wins.

The Gideon clone rolled his eyes. "Well, maybe you can follow me if — oh, there he is."

Grace started as a second Gideon clone strode into view. This one had an amulet of deep forest green. He looked surprised to see Grace. "Hi, Evi," he said. "Come to watch?"

"Watch what?" she asked

Neither clone answered her. Instead, they faced each other. "Well," said Pink Gideon, "I guess it's time. What did you do?"

"I went to the library and sat outside the back door," Forest Gideon replied. "And you?"

"Sat in the fairy hollow."

"Think you're strong enough?"

Pink Gideon shrugged. Then he rolled up his sleeves — no scars, Grace noticed. "May the best emotion win," he said.

"Wait," Grace interjected. "Are you two going to fight?"

"Yes," they replied in unison. "We're competing for the dominant emotion," Pink Gideon explained. "We have polarizing feelings about the amulet. Whoever wins gets to stay prominent in Gideon's mind, and the other gets pushed aside."

"You sure you should be telling her this much?" asked Forest Gideon.

Pink Gideon shrugged. "She's our sister."

"Good point." Forest Gideon then decked his rival in the face.

Grace flinched as she watched the clone go down. These two weren't the real Gideon, she knew that, but they looked exactly like him. It felt too close to home. So much so that when Pink Gideon got up and tackled Forest Gideon, Grace tried to pull them apart. "Wait, wait! You don't have to fight!"

Both Gideons regarded her with her brother's classic are-you-stupid-or-are-you-an-idiot look. "Yes, we do," Forest Gideon said. "We literally exist to fight each other."

"I — I don't want to see it," Grace said lamely.

"Then go somewhere else," FG replied. He then promptly received a slap in the face from his rival.

Grace flinched again. "I need you to lead me to my brother," she said. It was hard to tell if the clones were listening; they were still battling it out in the new snow. "At least point me in his direction."

Neither clone responded. They tussled on the ground for a little while, then pulled apart, panting. "We're both pretty strong," Pink Gideon gasped.

"Yeah," Forest Gideon agreed. "I think it's too soon to tell."

"But we can't both get absorbed."

Then, in unison, they turned to Grace. "You've used the amulet," FG said.

"Ye-es," Grace said warily.

"Which one?" PG asked. "Is it better to love the amulet and its power, or fear the amulet and its attached responsibilities?"

"It's mostly a question of freedom," added FG. "Will it make us more free, or less?"

Grace blinked. "I. . . I don't know," she said. "Both. You're free when you're flying, but trapped when you're summoned to the Order."

The clones thought about that. "Well, that's not helpful," FG murmured.

"No, wait," PG said. "I think I've got it." He pushed FG to the ground and stomped right on his face. Grace screwed her eyes shut, but still heard more violent sounds.

Soon enough, "You can open your eyes," Gideon's voice said.

She did.

Pink Gideon stood in front of her, and Forest Gideon was nowhere to be seen.

"I won," PG said. "I'm stronger."

Grace swallowed. "Congratulations?"

"Thanks," PG replied. "It's good when a positive emotion wins, I think. Now Gideon will be able to use the amulet to its fullest instead of feeling afraid of it all the time." He paused. "I can take you to him now. If you promise not to interfere with any of this."

Grace didn't fully understand what this even was, though she still felt a slight unease. Still, feeling positive about the amulet was a good thing, right? Gideon would be spending a lot of time with it over the next decade, after all.

"Um, sure," she said.

PG smiled at her, and for a moment Grace forgot that he wasn't her real brother. "Good," he said. "Follow me, then."

So Grace followed the clone, still struggling to wrap her head around the whole situation.