Handy just looked back and forth between the two of them, blinking. That was the problem with not having the geas; he had no easy way to tell which was which. They were both bleeding from various cuts, which was useful, but Handy had never tasted Chrysalis' blood specifically, so he had no clue which was which by smell alone. His foot kicked against something and, looking down, he spotted a long, curved black spike that looked suspiciously like Chrysalis' horn. He looked up. Both the Chrysalises were missing their horns.