Alcatraz versus the Scrivener's Bones by Brandon Sanderson

and she stood, rushing over to the other side of the Library’s hut. She pointed at the ground. “See!” she said.
    “Dirt?” I asked.
    “No, no, the footprints!”
    There were no footprints in the dirt – or course, Australia was wearing the Tracker’s Lenses. I reached up and tapped her Lenses.
    “Oh, right!” she said, pulling off the Lenses and handing them to me.
    In all fairness, you shouldn’t judge Australia too harshly. She’s not stupid. She just gets distracted. By, you know, breathing.
    I slipped on the Lenses. There, burning on the ground, were a set of fiery white footprints. I recognized them immediately – each person leaves distinctive prints.
    These belonged to my grandfather, Leavenworth Smedry. Australia herself trailed a set of puffy pink prints. Kaz’s were the blue footprints, mixing with my own whitish ones, glowing in front of the hut where we’d inspected the day before. I could also see Bastille’s red ones that crossing the area several times, and since I hadn’t known Draulin very long – and she wasn’t related to me – there were only a few of her gray ones, as they disappeared rather quickly.
    “See?” Australia asked again, nodding quickly. As she did so, her mustache began to fall free. “None of us gives off prints like those – though yours are close.”
    Kaz had joined us. “They belong to your father,” I said to him.
    He nodded. “Where do they lead?”
    I began to walk, following the prints. Kaz and Australia followed as I made my way around the outside of the hut. Grandpa had inspected the place, just like we had. I peeked inside and noted that the prints led to one corner of the hut, then turned and walked down the stairs into the darkness.
    “He went in,” I said.
    Kaz sighed. “So they’re both down there.”
    I nodded. “Although, my father must have come this way too long ago for his prints to have remained. We should have thought of using the Tracker’s Lenses earlier! I feel like an idiot.”
    Kaz shrugged. “We’ve found the prints. That’s what’s important.”
    “So, I did something good, right?” Australia asked.
    I glanced at her. Her head had begun to sprout her normal dark hair, and her face looked like some kind of hybrid between hers and Grandpa Smedry’s. While seeing her before had been amusing, now she was downright creepy.
    “Um, yeah,” I said. “You did a great job. I can follow these prints, and we’ll find my grandfather. Then, at least, we’ll know where one of them is.”
    Australia nodded. Even between the times I’d glanced at her , she’d grown to look more like herself, though she seemed sad.
    What? I thought. She made a great discovery. Without her, we wouldn’t have…
    Australia had made the discovery because she’d had the Tracker’s Lenses. Now I’d taken them back and was ready to charge off after Grandfather. I took off the Tracker’s Lenses. “Why don’t you keep these, Australia?”
    “Really?” she said, perking up.
    “Sure,” I said. “You can lead us to Grandpa Smedry just as well as I can.”
    She smiled eagerly, taking them back. “Thank you so much!” She rushed outside, following the prints back the way they had come, apparently to see if Grandpa Smedry had visited any other places.
    Kaz regarded me. “I may have misjudged you, kid.”
    I shrugged. “She hasn’t had much luck being an Oculator. I figured I shouldn’t take away the only pair of Lenses that she’s been able to use effectively.”
    Kaz smiled, nodding in approval. “You’ve got a good heart. A Smedry heart. Of course, not as good as a short person’s heart, but that’s to be expected.”
    I raised an eyebrow.
    “Reason number one hundred and twenty-seven. Short people have smaller bodies, but regular-size hearts. That gives us a larger ratio of heart to flesh – making us, of course, far more compassionate than big people.” He winked, then sauntered out of the room.
    I shook my head, moving to follow,