His eyes, sparkling and full of curiosity, reminded Octavia of someone else’s. She stepped forward, then kicked Crow in the back and sent him tumbling. This caused the magical projectile he’d fired from the tip of his sword to deviate from its intended trajectory toward Colette. Still, the magical projectile gouged out whatever of the world lay in its path; everything it passed through vanished, leaving only a void, as if this world were a painting and only that part had been painted white.
A shiver went up Octavia’s spine. She shook off that feeling and shouted at the man, who had fallen face first into a flower bed, “I told you not to move! Hat, let’s try again!”
“But we couldn’t register the doll as an automaton!” cried Hat.
“I have an idea!”
She’ll forget, the imitation—which had drained the original doll’s power—had said in warning. That had provided Octavia with a hint. Ann, blown in Colette’s direction by the previous blast of magic, was now right beside her. She stood up and brandished her fork.
“It’s no use, Octavia! We won’t make it in time!”
Another spear appeared in Octavia’s hand, but as she was about to throw it, she saw something that made her stop. Hat also stiffened.
The doll had plunged the fork into her own right shoulder. The imitation doll, flying in midair, suddenly let out a scream.
“Ouch! It hurts!”
“Severe error in my recognition system!” Magic crackled around where Ann had plunged the fork into her shoulder.
“You...”
“Requesting a restart. The imitation’s contamination will not stop,” said Ann haltingly. “I am already sixty...seventy percent infected. If this goes on, I’ll kill Colette.”
With another crackle, she transformed back from a doll into a human—it was her last act of resistance. It seemed that she couldn’t easily maintain either form.
“Are you my master?”
Octavia slowly approached Ann and nodded.
“Is that so? You looked for Colette...” She trailed off. “I would like to specify...one thing. My name...”
“I know.”
Because her recognition system had been damaged, the automaton couldn’t recognize Octavia. Due to its contamination by the counterfeit doll, it had tried to kill Colette in its place. Therefore, Octavia had to call it by its name.
Her name.
“I didn’t have a chance,” she sighed. “To thank—” She broke off. “To say goodbye.”
Colette had been focused, single-minded, on making flower crowns. Now, she stopped.
Octavia wanted to give them time. She really did want to, but there was no time. Like a bullet, the counterfeit doll came flying in from behind Octavia. Octavia had to stop it.
“Tee hee hee hee!”
“Don’t worry, Ann.”
The doll was headed straight for Colette and Ann. Octavia threw a new spear at it, which seemed at last to tear through its irritating laughter. It skewered the doll and sewed the whole dimension back together.
And then it was destroyed.
“Searching... Target confirmed. Unlock!”
At Hat’s clear announcement, the world around them split apart.
When they returned to reality, they were greeted by the night’s quiet; there was only the distant clamor of the town square. Octavia picked up Colette, who had collapsed near the window, and returned her to her bed. She pulled the duvet over her and gently laid a hand on her forehead.
Octavia was going to have to manipulate her memory. If anyone found out she had interacted with an Heirloom, it would attract the attention of the inquisitors, and they might even discover Octavia’s true identity.
“Hat,” she said, “I’ll leave it to you.” Hat would make sure their stories matched up. This was one of the powers he possessed as the administrator of the tools.
“I guess you’re right. There’s nothing else for it. It’s too difficult to make it as if the doll itself never existed, so all I can do is erase her memories of Ann specifically.”
“Do you think we can fix Ann?”
“Yeah. The next time she wakes up, she’ll be your automaton.”
“Let’s keep on calling her Ann.” That was all Octavia could do.
All right, then, agreed Hat.
Octavia’s hand, pressed against Colette’s forehead, started to glow.
Uncharacteristically, Hat started to grumble. “They only became friends because there was an error in her recognition system. Can you really call that friendship?”
“That isn’t for us to decide.” All at once, the magical glow left Octavia’s fingertips. Octavia and her associates had finished their work here. As she stood back up, Octavia became aware of a commotion outside the window, which had been left open. She heard a familiar voice, and stuck her head out of the window.
“Octavia! Is Miss Colette all right?!” It was Ashton. Constables had crowded around the front door of the mansion.
“Yes. She’s fine. Sorry for running off like that. Have you come to my aid, perhaps?”
“No, the Phantom Thief has shown himself! We saw him flee in the direction of the lighthouse—”
“I forgot!” cried Octavia after a pause. At once, she leapt out of the window and began running up the low hill that led to the lighthouse at full pelt.
Octavia found Crow, the Phantom Thief, immediately. That was because he was sitting gracefully on top of the lighthouse with his long legs crossed. She’d run up the hill as fast as she could, and now she had to stop and catch her breath. Then she shouted, “Hey, you! Didn’t I tell you to stay put?!”
“You may well have said that, but now that we’ve come back from the other side, I don’t see how ‘staying put’ means much of anything. More importantly, I happen to be wanted by the police, you know.”
“Well, that’s your own doing! Don’t split hairs with me! Just come down here!”
“Octavia, wait. Let me talk to him. You can hear me, can’t you?”
Crow had been averting his gaze, playing dumb. Now, hearing Hat’s voice, he turned to face them again. Hat, thinking he had obtained confirmation, addressed Crow clearly. “Why do you have that key? That’s a key to the vault that holds the Imperial Heirlooms. It’s the emergency spare key, right? On top of that, why could you use an Heirloom and remain unharmed? Wait,” Hat went on, “in the first place, why could you enter and exit the other side unharmed, just like Octavia?! Octavia is the only successor to the imperial throne left!”
“Hmm. I can’t quite hear you.”
“All right, Octavia, drag that phantom thief down here! Hurt him enough that we can have a conversation!”
“Leave it to me!” cried Octavia.
“One thousand years have passed since the fall of the United Empire,” Crow went on. “The angels haven’t just been running around, sealing the Imperial Heirlooms away. Merely destroying them would be a waste, wouldn’t you say? Since the Heirlooms exist anyway, they’d like to use them. Admittedly, angels sometimes come up with rather human ideas.” Crow seemed to smile at Octavia.