Salamander

Chapter Thiry One: The End

Chapter Thirty One

At first nothing happened. The blimp stayed in the air as if it hadn’t been shot by a firework. And then, slowly, it fell down into the castle’s garden, the cockpit exploding as it met with the ground and the balloon completely deflated. I had originally thought that the other blimps wouldn’t be affected, but they soon followed the head blimp down towards the ground, each and every one of them exploding and their balloons deflating.

            “The head blimp,” the king said, walking up behind me, “must have been controlling the others.” He stood next to me, his hands gripping the balcony fence. He looked out at his devastated city, at the people staring at the blimps, still in shock at what had just happened. Some of them began to cheer but most either stood there completely dumbfounded or continued to turn through the streets. “You’re quite smart, Alan,” the king said. I was guessing that that was going to be the closest remark to a “thank you” that I was going to get.

            “I’ve done a lot of horrible things,” I said as I watched the balloons get devoured by fire. “I needed to make it up.”

            “To who?”

            I wondered – who was I trying to make up what I did to? “Myself,” I concluded. “Maybe just because I’m not a bad person.” I looked down. I’m not a bad person, I repeated in my head. I’m not.

            Byron came up behind me, along with the other guard and the king’s daughter. “I’m sorry I doubted you, Alan.”

            I looked away, still angry with him and the person I knew he really was.

            King Plarsky didn’t seem to notice my anger and said to Byron, “You know, my father’s offer still stands. If you make a robotic army and find a way to reverse the effects of the neurotoxin –”

            “That’s very kind of you,” Byron said with a raised hand. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

            The king sighed. “There will be weeks of cleanup and reconstruction ahead.”

            “I imagine so,” I said, trying to remember what the city had looked like before the attack. To my left I saw the ruins of what had been the Imperial Science Center. Apparently we wouldn’t be finding an antidote for the neurotoxin from them anytime soon. I then felt a pressing issue come to the front of my mind. I had buried it back there without even noticing it, but when it nagged at me at that very moment, I remembered.

            Madeline. The poor (yes, I know, poor) collector who had fallen victim to the neurotoxin. Had I wanted to turn her back to her original form all this time without even realizing it? I shook my head. It didn’t matter anymore. The science center was devastated, so the hopes of curing her were nonexistent.

            Unless . . .

            Unless we went to the Buddhist temples on the other side of the continent, like Byron had said the day before.

            I looked at the old scientist, my anger still boiling at the sight of him.

            “I ought to call you Salamander from now on,” the king said.

I gave him a puzzled look.

“They’re lizards that are said to live in fire,” he clarified.

“You’re saying I’m a lizard?”

He chuckled. “I’m saying you’re good with fire.”

“Fireworks,” I corrected him.

We stood there, looking out at what had been the promising, strong Imperial City, now reduced to rubble and frantic citizens. “What do you plan to do now?” the king asked.