Page 73 of Leda's Log

“He hasn’t stopped doing that thing since the day I was born,” she replied.

My stomach growled again, louder this time.

“Sit.” Damiel pointed at my empty chair. “Eat.”

“But the universe?—”

“Can wait,” he cut me off. “You won’t be saving anything if you collapse.”

“I just ate. Call my Aunt Bella if you don’t believe me.”

“And you have teleported how many times since you last ate?” he asked, brows lifted.

I didn’t answer him. He was just being unreasonable.

“Exactly,” Damiel said. “Now are you going to sit down and eat, or do I have to tie you to that chair?”

“He will totally do it,” Eira warned me. “He’s done it to me.”

“Fine. You win, you old coot.” I pulled out my chair and sat down. “But if the universe explodes while we’re sitting here eating, you’ll be sorry.”

“If the universe explodes, I doubt I’ll still be around to feel sorry about anything,” he said lightly.

“You really do have an answer to everything, don’t you?”

He smiled at me. “Do you want me to answer that?”

I said nothing.

“Smart girl.” He retrieved an apron from the cupboard. “So, what will it be, ladies? What would you like the Immortal Chef to prepare for you today?”

I glanced at Eira. “Did he just call himself ‘the Immortal Chef’?”

“I try not to listen to a word my dad says.”

“Focus, please.” When Damiel said ‘please’, it sounded an awful lot like ‘or else’.

“I’d like pancakes,” I told him.

“Oooh, good idea,” Eira said.

“Pancakes are a little odd for dinner, don’t you think?”

I braided my fingers together and rested my chin on them, smiling up at my grandfather. “It isn’t dinnertime where I live.”

He chuckled. “Good point.” He started gathering ingredients for the pancake batter.

“Besides,” I said. “It’s always the right time of the day for pancakes. Especially your pancakes.”

Damiel pointed his mixing spoon at me. “Bonus points for the flattery, Sierra. I’ve almost forgiven you for calling me an ‘old coot’.”

“Make those pancakes with chocolate chips and I might forgive you for threatening to tie me to my chair,” I said sweetly.

“Done,” he said, then grabbed a bag of tiny chocolate chips and emptied it into the batter.

Over the next half hour, Damiel cooked, we ate, and we all discussed the impending end of the universe. In other words, it was a typical meal for our family.

“When we’re done eating, we should visit Jiro and Eva,” Damiel said, flipping more pancakes onto my plate. “They have built up an extensive library. In addition to the book Cadence mentioned, they have many more ancient books from the time of the Immortals—and some even older. If anyone alive knows anything about that ancient language you saw, they do.”

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