Fizzy Wavelength's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

By morning, Fizzy's proof was dying. The clay tray held Nerissa's footprints and the strand of aqua hair, locked in one solid slab. But the surface had gone pale and dry. A crack split the heel of one print. If the slab crumbled, Fizzy's only evidence would turn to dust, and the city would keep calling them a thief. Fizzy set the tray down and pressed a thumb near the crack. A flake broke loose. They pulled their hand back fast. Every touch made it worse. They needed help, and they knew no one who cared about a set of footprints. Then a small light drifted over the tray. A fairy hovered above it, silver hair, a magnifying glass in one hand. She studied the prints without blinking. This was someone who guarded tracks for a living, and she had found Fizzy's by their glow. "You're losing it," the fairy said. "The heel goes first. Then the toes. You have minutes." "Can you stop it?" Fizzy asked. "Maybe. Don't touch it again." She landed on the tray's edge. "I'm Clover Tracewood. These prints are talking. I want to know what they say before they vanish." "They say a woman named Nerissa robbed three shops in my face," Fizzy said. "They're the only thing that proves it wasn't me." Clover looked up. Her eyes moved from the poster tucked under Fizzy's arm to their aqua hair, then back to the prints. "Different feet than yours," she said. "I can measure. But not if it crumbles first." She worked fast. She pulled a small pouch from her belt and shook fine dust across the clay. The dust settled into the cracks. Then she pressed her palms flat and hummed. A thin green light spread through the slab. The pale surface darkened. The loose flake on the heel drew back into place. "Water," she said. "Slow. From the side, not the top." Fizzy dripped water down the tray's edge with one finger. The clay drank it. The crack closed to a hairline, then held. Fizzy stopped breathing until the light faded. "It's set now," Clover said. "Hard as stone. It won't crack again." Fizzy lifted the tray. It held. The footprints stayed clean and deep. The single aqua strand still lay across them, sealed for good. "You saved my proof," Fizzy said. "I saved a message," Clover said. "Yours just happens to be inside it." She pointed her magnifying glass at the largest print. "This boot has a chip in the sole. Right corner. That's a mark. Follow boots like this and you find her." Fizzy stared at the chipped heel. The evidence was safe, but safe wasn't enough. A sealed slab could not walk into a courtroom by itself. Fizzy needed someone with power to look at it, and every official in the city still believed the poster. "Then help me show it to someone who matters," Fizzy said. Clover folded her wings. "They won't listen to a wanted face," she said. "We'll need to fix that first."