68 Colour

Chapter 68 Colour Of course!' shouted Dad, as he stood proudly watching his son conduct the orchestra of colour playing its symphony over Chroma. 'The moment Leo turned eighteen, he automatically became Conté's heir!' The citizens on the ground, who'd been trapped in the Rainbow Lake, looked up in wonder as the huge technicolour curtain drifted down towards them. As it passed over the Spire, jets of ink, paint and dye whizzed around it, dancing and exploding, scattering their beauty and decorating its facade. 'This is WONDERFUL!' shouted Mum, as she hugged Little-Bit and Rockwell while the colours passed over them. Woodhouse had scurried back down the ladder as quickly

as he had scurried up it and had now resumed his position on Doodle's back. Both illustrated animals wagged their tails wildly. Doodle! Woodhouse!' shouted Peanut from her position near the top of the ladder. 'You made this happen! You saved us all!' 'Totally!' agreed Little-Bit. 'Woodhouse, I don't know how you escaped from that horrid snake, but I'm so glad you did!' 'Me too!' said a gleeful Rockwell. 'After today, I will never look at rodents in the same way. Three cheers for Woodhouse and Doodle! Hip, hip...' 'HOORAY!' chorused everyone. 'Hip, hip...' 'HOORAY!' 'Hip, hip 'HOORAY.' Doodle yipped with delight. Woodhouse would have blushed if rats could, indeed, blush. Instead, he stood up straight and waved his long tail elegantly behind him. He had saved the day. He, a small creature who most people thought of as lowly and dirty, had saved Chroma and—what's more the entire world's creativity! His tail curled into the shape of an open palm and he accepted enthusiastic high-fives from everyone there.

Meanwhile, the technicolour display continued to dazzle in the sky. Then, the most remarkable thing happened. When the curtain of colour reached the ground, the lake, totally empty of citizens by now, began to refill with rainbow-colored water. The liquid tumbled and splashed as it magically poured into the lake, its surface gradually rising until it lapped playfully at the brim. Once there, the water settled into its familiar striped pattern that the children had seen on their first visit to the city. 'Perfect,' whispered Rockwell, looking down on the newly restored rings of colour. 'Everything is back to how it should be.' And with that, the entire city, revelling in this wonderful eruption of colour and creation, of light and life, of chaos and magic, breathed a huge sigh of relief.