So I was just pondering ideas when I thought of this. I really do like Nadira.
All that is from Skybreaker belongs to Kenneth Oppel.
What should have been even breathing had become rapid pants for Nadira in the last hours. This sky sickness had come as a surprise to her. It had also been disheartening and horrible.
Very, very horrible.
After jumping rooftops and kicking bullets off her heels back in Paris, it had never even occurred to Nadira that she might be weak in the sky. She was strong, and always had been. She had grown up a Roma. She had been forced to be strong, like it was an unspoken rule. She had had no choice. It had not helped that her mother had been a "traitor" of sorts ever since she had married a gadjo; Vikram Szpirglas. Nadira had never fit in to anything she called home because of this.
Now, sitting in the back of an ornithopter that wasn't an ornithopter, pedaling with strength she did not have, Nadira felt as if she was about to black out. Things were not going well at all either; yes, they had managed to escape the downward-falling Hyperion, but Matt had not. Back in the hanger her blurred mind had been just able to pick out Kate yelling
"Hurry, Matt! I can't-"
to a frantic Matt. And then he was gone. In one spastic leap, the not-ornithopter had jumped like a cat into the open sky.
This cat would not be able to land on it's feet in the middle of an ocean.
"Nadira?" Hal had turned halfway around from his cockpit in front of her. " Can you see Matt? Kate's frantic." All Nadira could do was shake her head. It was no use trying to move her stiff neck when she could be using the small iota of strength for pedaling.
"We'll make it," Hal said, in an attempt to cheer her up. He turned around once more. Nadira swallowed, feeling the dryness of her throat. It felt like she was swallowing a cactus. Nadira had never actually swallowed a cactus before, but she was sure this is what it would feel like. Oh, yes.
In what seemed like moments and hours all at the same time, Nadira ended up looking to the right. Strange, white wisps were floating down next to the aircraft. Feathers.
This is bad, thought Nadira. I am truly crazy now.
In a very crazy-like manner, though it was all too real, it was no one other than Matt that followed the feathers and came crashing down right in front of Hal. Matt had wings on. That part did not seem real at all.
Hals good arm locked around Matt, and he slipped into the formally empty cockpit right behind Kate. The dream like wings gusted past Nadira, flying away all on their own.
A bit to her alarm, Nadira saw that Kate had turned around to face Matt.
Who is flying the ornithopter?
Three words from Matt and Kate's conversation floated back to Nadira, carried by the wind.
"Made… God… Pedaling…"
Who made God pedal what?
Another hour…or minutes…later Nadira saw the Sagarmatha. It was a huge relief.
"There!" Kate shouted. She had seen it too.
They were spiraling lower, though. It helped Nadira think straight, but it did not help their chances of the Saga spotting them. It could sail away just as easily, taking all hope with it.
In her groggy brain, Nadira had a brilliant idea.
Her numb fingers groped beside her seat and closed around hard, metal flare gun.
Yes!
Nadira continued to pedal hazardously as her finger squeezed the trigger, the barrel of the gun pointing upwards.
A brilliant red rainbow arch shot up and into the sky. Their hopes soaring with it.
Hal and Matt turned around and saw her holding the flare gun with shaking fingers.
"Beside the seat!" Nadira shouted, pointing beside her. Matt gave a thumbs up.
Their message was returned with a miracle, and the Saga's bow dipped down. Nadira did not bother to try and decipher what Matt and Kate were saying.
She did catch one word, though.
"Pedal!"
Nadira pedaled her hardest. It is truly amazing what one can do when they are fatigued, exhausted, and falling asleep at crucial moments. Perhaps adrenaline or even God had a hand in it. Nadira did not know what to think. It hurt too much to think about such physiological matters.
It hooked. The ornithopter trapeze connected smoothly with the landing rig. Nadira did not have breath enough to heave a sigh of relief.
"Welcome aboard!" roared Dorje through the bay doors. They were some of the most welcome words Nadira was ever to hear. She leaned back, resting her frozen legs.
And Miss Ram helped her to bed.
This piece flowed really easily for me; as in it was easy to write. Like the opposite of writers block.
So, I may or may not be writing that much for a while.
I am currently juggling three projects, two science labs due next week plus a test.
No fun WHAT SO EVER. Nada.