The cut up bacon popped in the pan as I fried it. Indigo watched from the island and kept glancing back at the open cookbook.
“When does it turn crispy? It says crispy…”
“I think there might be too much grease in the pan,” I said as I turned down the burner and grabbed a stack of paper towels. I blotted them into the corner of the pan to soak up the excess grease. Using the spatula, I tossed them in the garbage once they were soaked.
“Okay, now they should crisp up.” I hoped I sounded more confident than I was.
Indigo jumped from the island over to the counter near the stove. Her eyes narrowed into tiny slits as she stared at it.
“Maybe.”
I didn’t comnt and waited for the sizzle to return to the pan as I turned the burner back on. Making a quiche should be easy. Fry up the diced bacon, and toss it into the eggs, along with the scallions, cheese and diced tomato.
Then it goes into the oven.
Easy.
Hopefully.
The book made it seem simple.
Indigo poked a claw into the pan and nudged a single piece. “Better.”
I resisted using the spatula to stir the pieces around in the pan with Indigo so close.
She leaned even closer, bringing her snout inches away from the bacon. Her concentration remained on the at with a focus that worried .
Her head snapped up to .
“Now!”
I turned the burner off and dumped the bacon on the plate already prepped with paper towels.
“I do it!” Indigo snagged the end of the roll of paper towels and it went rolling across the counter, then the floor. She growled at it as she ripped off a piece way too small. Yet, that didn’t stop her from patting the top of the pile.
I kept my mouth shut as the roll vanished and rose next to her wound back up.
Instead, I moved to the island with the tomato slices. I’d found a chopper online and Betty had one ready for this morning. I put each slice into it and then slamd the top down. Diced tomato fell to the container beneath, quickly making a pile as I went through all the slices. Next were the scallions.
This made it so much easier to cut everything up.
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If Umber saw , he’d roll his eyes so hard. Several tis he’d tried to teach how to dice veggies properly. I didn’t have patience for it at the ti. Now, a lesson or two would be helpful, yet with this handy chopper, less necessary.
We’d cracked the eggs earlier, and I tossed the diced veggies into the large bowl.
“Is the bacon ready?”
“Yes!”
I snagged the plate of diced bacon from her and tossed it into the bowl, along with a pile of shredded cheese.
A pre-made piecrust made this simple. Just stir, then fill the piecrust.
Seconds later, I slid it into the oven.
“How long does it go in for?” I asked Indigo, since she stood next to the book on the counter.
“40 minutes.”
I set the tir and leaned back on the counter as the kitchen shifted. Everything dirty just loaded itself into the dishwasher.
“When will breakfast be ready?”
The Cat appeared on the counter next to the book.
“We made a quiche,” I answered with a grin. “We have 40 minutes.”
The Cat glanced away from . “That’s a long ti.”
“We could have cereal now, and quiche for lunch,” I said, after my stomach grumbled.
It didn’t take long for to pour so cereal into bowls for each of us. The noise of crunching on the granola clusters filled the space between us.
The Cat finished his bowl first. “I bet the quiche will be lovely.”
“You were just hungry.”
“You as well.”
“I didn’t realize it’d take so long to get it into the oven. Sohow, the 15 minutes of prep the recipe listed actually took more like 40, and then it needed to bake.”
“New things take more ti than anticipated.” The Cat nodded. “Coffee?”
“Oh, yes.” I snagged my empty mug and headed to the front of the shop. My cup had gone dry before we’d even finished the bacon. So additional caffeine was needed before we truly got started with the day.
“What’s on today's schedule?”
The shop’s layout confused . Stone covered the floors and walls. Even the countertop had changed to a stone that sohow reminded of wood. The only things the sa were the espresso machine and the register.
I ground so espresso beans and pulled out his teacup.
Indigo remained in the kitchen.
My ability to figure out where she was only worked when I focused on it, and not all the ti. If she used her shadow magic, it made it much harder for to spot her.
“Elentals,” grumbled the Cat as his tail flickered. “We are a safe eting place.”
“Wait, what are elentals?”
“You’ll see what I an.”
I stead the milk and filled both our glasses before adding the espresso. Today was a simple, straight latte day.
I raised my mug toward the door once the Cat finished his teacup.
“Alright, let's do this.”
The door rattled before my sentence finished and the espresso machine vanished, along with the register.
Two people tried to squeeze in the door at the sa ti as it swung open. One was completely covered in vines, and the other seed to be made of a deep brown moss.
“Let in, you stone licker!”
“You always go first!”
Sothing shoved them both from behind and they went sprawling into the center of the room, as a being made of stone followed behind them.
“Behave yourselves,” ordered the rock-person.
More funneled in. One was glowing a deep red, and another was like walking ice. As they made their way into the shop, the amorphous blobs changed into humanoid figures.
“Elents, got it,” I mumbled under my breath.
The glowing one headed in my direction, along with the being of ice.
“Welco to the shop,” I said with a smile.
“Ah, you are an interesting one to et in this shop.” He bowed his head. “May the fires burn bright as you walk your path. I am Ember-of-a-Thousand-Stones”
A loud chirp ca from behind as Indigo suddenly shot over my shoulder and circled the room. Everyone turned to face her frantic movents.
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