Skybreaker

But chance runs like a river through all our lives, and being prepared for surprise is the best we can do.

If my heart were a compass, you'd be North.

IMBECILE!" the chef shouted. "Next time why don't you just put your whole HAND in the food, hey? Yes, your whole hand, or maybe your FACE! I arrange the food on plates with care, are you understanding what I am telling you? It is part of the art form of cooking, yes? A lovely plate of food is a thing of beauty! And then you, NUMBSKULL, come along and put your fat greasy FINGERS all over my plate, and SHAKE the plate, and move my food all around the plate until it looks like pigs' vomit!" "Chef Vlad!" I cried out in delight.

I prefer the word aviatrix. It has more zing to it." "It's very zingy," I agreed.

You've no fear of heights," puffed the girl. "None," I said. "I've heard that about you.

You flatter me shamelessly. I like it. Good.

This way," she said, veering toward the roof's edge. "Can you jump?" "Oh, I can jump!" "Then jump!

I raised my hands, trying to shush her. "Don't shush me," she said, eyes blazing. "I hate being shushed.

Everyone watched, wondering if this could be the same lunatic who'd nearly berthed his ornithopter in the restaurant. I swallowed, for it seemed he was headed straight for my table. He pulled off his helmet and a mass of dark auburn hair spilled out. Off came the goggles, and I was looking at the beaming face of Kate de Vries.

I had no idea there'd be so many Sherpas aboard!" exclaimed Miss Simpkins. "I'm not a Sherpa," Nadira said. "I'm a gypsy." "Oh, my goodness!" said the chaperone.

None of us gets to choose how we're born, it's what we make of ourselves afterwards.

I stared at Kate in disbelief. "I know, I know," she said, walking toward me, hands raised as if to calm a dangerous beast. "She's not coming," I said. "She's coming." "She can't." "She's coming.

I could not help staring back, for they made quite a contrast: Kate's pale skin and elegant purple suit, Nadira's dusky skin and exotic fiery sari. "Do we clash?" Nadira said dryly. "We certainly do," said Kate. "Would you like me to move?" "Don't trouble yourself.

I took [Kate's] hand in mine, and felt her fingers squeeze back. And I thought: home. It took me completely by surprise. But I suppose that once you bid farewell to your first home, you're always looking for another—that place where you can feel happy and strong and at your best. For three years I'd called the Aurora home. But now that I lived in Paris, it was not the city itself that was home. It was Kate.

It indicates very poor breeding,” Miss Simpkins informed me primly. “We are not dogs or horses,” I insisted hotly. “None of us gets to choose how we’re born, it’s what we make of ourselves afterward.