Raindrop's Arc

Chapter 15 of 15

The wax beaded at the seam, golden and slick under the lights. Raindrop watched a drop of it slide down the wand's handle. He had one show left to finish, and the patch was already giving way. He ducked into the wings between cues. A shallow bowl of glacial ice sat on a crate, draped with a shimmering mist-cloth that breathed cold off its folds. He pressed the wand's bent head into the ice, then wrapped it in the cloth. The wax firmed up. He counted three beats and ran back out. On a frosted perch beside the bowl, a small winged sprite waited, its icy feathers glittering. Each time Raindrop returned, it puffed a thin breath across the wand's seam. The wax hardened just enough. He cued the drums, lifted the wand, and the spiral snapped back into line. Drops crossed paths mid-fall. The ripple spread. He finished the night on a wand that was bent, dripping, and barely whole — but it held. The last drop landed clean. The wax had given everything it had, and now it was spent.