Dark Chocolate and Death

by Samantha Silver

  “Okay,” Ashley said. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

  Chapter 3

  I spent the next hour aimlessly going through the office, trying to figure out what on earth I was going to do the next day when everybody showed up at the chocolate factory and there was no boss there.

  Of course, in a perfect world, my parents were going to be released from prison that night, after Chief Enforcer Lupo discovered that there was, in fact, some sort of mistake, but I couldn’t plan for that to happen. I had to assume that they were going to stay in jail for at least a little while longer.

  “Meg?” I heard another familiar voice call out from the ground floor after a while. “Meg, I heard you’re home.”

  I smiled to myself and rushed back down the stairs, where my other sister Andrea was standing with Ashley. The three of us looked fairly similar: we all had our mother’s curly, dark brown hair and her full, plump lips. Andrea, however, had a more aquiline nose, much more like our father then Ashley and I. And, of course, my hair was only shoulder length, whereas my two sisters kept theirs significantly longer, with Andrea always insisting on having hers up in a ponytail, and Ashley casting four spells a day to stop hers from getting overly frizzy.

  At least my shorter hair was a lot less maintenance.

  “Hey, Andrea,” I said, going over and taking her into a hug. “I hear you’ve been letting Chief Enforcer Lupo hear your opinion about the arrest.”

  “You know I have,” Andrea said angrily, balling her fists. “It’s completely ridiculous. Twenty-one years of business in this town, and he thinks they’ve committed some sort of fraud? What kind of idiot looks at Mom and Dad and thinks ‘yes, these are definitely people who are criminals and not just small business owners in town trying to do the best for themselves and for their family?’ Lupo is an idiot and I hope he figures out sooner rather than later that he’s made a huge mistake and sets Mom and Dad free.”

  “What kind of fraud?” I asked. “What did you find out, exactly?”

  “Okay, so you didn’t hear this from me, because the way I got this information wasn’t exactly on the up and up, but it turns out Lupo thinks Mom and Dad have been using the factory to launder money from a criminal gang operating out of Las Brujas. He says they got an anonymous tip a couple of weeks ago that they were involved in laundering, and that they did their own investigation and found that the source is credible. So this morning, they arrested Mom and Dad, and went up into the office and took a whole bunch of papers.”

  “That explains why I thought it was messy up there,” I muttered. “I know Dad would have never left it in that shape.”

  “But do they have that evidence?” Ashley asked, a horrified look on her face.

  “Of course they don’t, because it’s all complete bull,” Andrea snapped back.

  “I agree,” I said. “They’re obviously innocent, and this has to be some sort of misunderstanding. Anyway, Ashley called a lawyer, so at least they’re going to be represented by somebody who knows what they’re doing. There’s nothing we can do now, so why don’t we just go back to the house, try to get some sleep, and hopefully in the morning everything will have been all ironed out.”

  Unfortunately, by the following morning, things had not been ironed out at all. I set my alarm early. The factory opened at eight every morning, and I was up by six, getting ready to go back up in the office organizing all of the papers that had been left in disarray. I knew that my father wasn’t going to be happy when he got back; he loved his papers to be in a specific order. Mom was a lot more casual about that sort of thing, and her desk, on the other side of the room, always looked like a forest had exploded all over it. I figured that one was safest to leave alone for as long as possible.

  At seven fifty I made my way over to the factory and opened up the front doors, waiting for the staff to arrive. I didn’t know how I had been roped in as the one to take care of the factory while our parents were in jail, but to be completely honest, I was kind of looking forward to it. I had always enjoyed watching my parents work when I was little, and a part of me always had wanted to take over the family business, even though my parents wanted me to become a Healer. This seemed a lot more suited to my skills, though, and as the first of the staff began to trickle through, I plastered a smile on my face and tried to look confident. After all, this was only a temporary measure, and I was only stepping in for a couple of days, tops. My parents were bound to be back here before I knew it.

  “Meg, my, how you’ve grown. I haven’t seen you in years,” the first employee to come up told me. Grace Laga was an older witch, and she had worked for my parents since day one. I knew she was skilled with potions, and she was the first person that my mother had trusted to come work for her when she needed to expand.

  “Grace,” I said with a smile. “How are you doing?”

  “Well, as nice as it is to see you here, under the circumstances I would rather it be your parents,” Grace replied, shaking her head. “The accusations by Chief Enforcer Lupo are absolutely ridiculous, of course. I’m sure it’ll all get sorted out soon, so don’t you worry yourself at all. You’ll be back in Spellford continuing your classes sooner than you know, I’m sure.”

  “Thanks, Grace,” I said with a smile. “I certainly hope so.”

  “I’m sure of it,” she said firmly. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

  “I will,” I said, watching as the old witch made her way over to her cauldron and began collecting the ingredients she was going to need from the huge shelf against the far wall.

  As more and more employees began to file in, I introduced myself to all of them. There were about fifty in total, and I knew some of them, but not all. Some, like Grace, had been with the company since the beginning and let me know that they were extremely worried about my parents, and assured me that they knew of their innocence.

  Others, however, especially those that I didn’t recognize and so couldn’t have been working for the company for long, were far less amicable.

  “So does this mean we need to find a new job?” one wizard in his early forties asked when I introduced myself. He didn’t even bother shaking the hand I had outstretched.

  “No,” I replied firmly. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with the company, and regardless of what happens with my parents, although I’m sure this is all a misunderstanding that will be sorted in the next couple of days, the company will continue as if nothing has happened.”

  “Right. With you at the helm, I suppose?” he said sarcastically, looking down at me. Evidently, this guy didn’t think I was going to be any good at this.

  “That’s right,” I replied firmly. “Now, what did you say your name was?”

  “Charles. Charles Perkins.”

  “Well, Charles, I suggest you get to your station, as your shift officially started one minute ago,” I said, crossing my arms. A frown filled his face and he made his way to his workspace, where he worked as one of the people magically leading carts filled with completed orders to the magical portal my parents had set up to transfer the finished chocolates to distributors. It hadn’t been easy—or cheap—to set up a portal, but it saved my parents so much time and money. After all, the old method involved getting witches and wizards to carry bags of chocolates into town on their brooms and go through the portals themselves, then fly to the distributors.

  This way, the portals sent the chocolates directly to the distributors without anyone even having to leave the building.

  Still, I wondered how many of the employees here harbored the same thoughts as Charles did but kept their opinions secret. I could definitely understand where the feelings came from, as well. After all, for most of these people, their jobs here were their livelihoods. It couldn’t be a good feeling to find out that their bosses had been arrested on charges of fraud. To be completely honest, I wouldn’t have really blamed them if they did go out looking for other work.

  So I did what I thought
was best. I pointed my wand at my throat. “Mars, bringer of war, make my meek voice more of a roar.”

  “Witches and wizards, could I have your attention for just a moment?” I asked, my voice now booming through the entire building. My heart pounded in my chest. I had never been good at speaking in public, and I wanted more than anything to dart up the stairs to the office on the top floor and barricade myself in there, avoiding the words I was about to say. What words was I going to say? I hadn’t even prepared a speech. All of a sudden this seemed like a terrible idea.

  Still, I was committed now; all of the employees were looking at me expectantly.

  “Um, I just want to say, um,” I started, and as I looked over, I saw Ashley standing in the doorway, looking at me, her face swelling with pride. I had to do this. Not just for my parents, but for my sisters. For my whole family. “I want to say that this is just a temporary situation. As I’m sure all of you who have known my parents for years and years are aware, they are honest people, and this is just a misunderstanding. But I also want you to know that no matter what happens, and no matter how long this takes, I will be in charge here, and I will do whatever I can to keep everything running smoothly. I know that I will make mistakes, and I may have to ask questions that seem obvious to you, but I guarantee you that I will do my best to make sure that Pacific Chocolates continues as normal, and I hope you will all join me in continuing the legacy that my parents began.”

  To my surprise, after a moment’s silence, the room burst into applause. My face reddened; I hadn’t expected this reaction at all. I supposed everyone else wanted to believe in the words I spoke, but as I said them, I realized I believed them as well. I was going to do my best for this business, for my family’s sake.

  “Mars, cancel the voice enhancing spell,” I said, pointing my wand at my throat once more as Ashley came over to me.

  “That was amazing,” she said to me. “Seriously, you’re going to be so good at this.”

  “I hope so,” I said. “But I also hope I don’t have to be for long.”

  Ashley reached over and squeezed my hand. “You won’t. It’s all going to be fine.”

  I really hoped she was right.

  Chapter 4

  On the bright side, that first day passed without any real incidents. At the end of the day, however, I made my way to Grace.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, Grace,” I told her. “I’m wondering if tomorrow you could teach me how to make the chocolates? After all, I feel like if I’m going to be running this company, even if it’s just for a few days, I should at least know the basics.”

  Grace raised her eyebrows at me. “Your mother never taught you?”

  I shook my head. “No. Because they wanted me to become a Healer and I wanted to be a Healer—I spent a lot of time studying. I never really had the chance to learn my mother’s art of chocolate making.”

  “Oh, well dear, you are in for a treat, then. Come, let me show you now, if you have the time.”

  “I wouldn’t want to keep you,” I said.

  “It’s no bother at all. I would be honored to show you the art of chocolate making. Did you know, in fact, that it was me who taught your mother how to make the chocolate?”

  I was stunned. “Was it really?”

  “Oh, yes. She has far surpassed me in skill, of course. But I used to teach a class, many years ago, as a way to make a little bit of extra money while my husband worked. This was when you were just a few years old. Your mother had just given birth to your younger sister, and Andrea was driving her insane.”

  I smiled. “That sounds like her.”

  “She was the loudest baby your mother had ever heard. She told your father she needed one night a week where she could go out and do something for herself without having to worry about your sister shrieking in her ear, and she chose to spend that time coming to my class.”

  “I’ll have to tell Andrea this story,” I laughed.

  “Your mother took to it immediately. She worked with me for years, even after I had shown her everything I knew, and your mother started showing me things I didn’t know. She loved it. She loved bringing home the chocolates she made and giving them to the three of you. She said the looks of joy on your faces when you received them were what made her happiest in the world. It was what pushed her to start the company.”

  “I had no idea,” I said quietly.

  “Your father, of course, was incredibly supportive. He kept working his job while your mother started working out of the kitchen, and when the orders started coming in so quickly she couldn’t keep up with everything, he would come home at night and do paperwork for her so she could focus on the chocolate. And then, of course, the factory was built, and expanded on a few times.”

  Maybe it was just the emotions of the day, but a part of me was tearing up listening to this story. I had no idea of any of this. As far as I knew, my mom always just had fun making chocolate.

  “So now, I will teach you how to work with chocolate, as I taught your mother all those years ago.”

  Grace made her way to a large, stainless-steel table topped with an enormous piece of flat marble. I had seen some of the witches and wizards at work on it today, moving it around.

  “Now, a lot of the art of chocolate making comes from the human world, and using magic can negatively impact the quality,” Grace told me. “After all, the art of making chocolate has to come from both love and patience. And using magic eliminates the patience part of the equation. The first thing one has to learn when making chocolate is how to temper it. Do you know what tempering chocolate is?”

  I shook my head no as Grace took a couple of chunks of milk chocolate from a shelf underneath the table and placed them inside a brass cauldron. She tapped the cauldron and the chocolate immediately melted into a gooey, liquid, delicious mess.

  “When one melts chocolate, as I have done here, it will re-solidify with the crystals acting differently depending on the temperature it is brought to,” Grace explained. “Melting at too low a temperature results in a chocolate which is soft and crumbly and melts too easily. Melting at too hot a temperature results in a chocolate which is too hard and doesn’t melt appropriately. Properly tempered chocolate has a good gloss to it, has a firm snap when it’s cracked, and melts around body temperature.”

  “Ok,” I nodded, following along religiously.

  “Now, this chocolate here is being kept at 115 degrees exactly,” Grace told me. “I will teach you the spells eventually, but they’re quite simple, and you won’t have any problem with them. This is much more complex, and more important. You take two-thirds of the melted chocolate and pour it onto the marble.”

  As she gave the instructions, Grace picked up the cauldron, much more easily than I thought possible for a witch who looked as frail as she, and poured around two-thirds of it onto the marble as she said.

  “Now, you use a scraper and continuously move the chocolate to the center until it forms into a dull mush and reaches eighty degrees,” Grace explained, doing exactly as she said. I was mesmerized as I watched her move around the marble; it was like watching a prima ballerina who had studied the art for years.

  “How do you know when it has reached eighty degrees?” I asked, and Grace smiled at me knowingly.

  “That is the art of the true chocolatier,” she replied. “I can tell by looking at it. For you, however, there will be spells to make it easier. Come, try your hand at this.”

  I stepped over to where Grace motioned me to follow and did as she instructed. I felt a little bit awkward, but the chocolate was smooth under my spatula at first. But sure enough, as Grace had said it would, eventually the chocolate began to harden and turn into more of a paste than a smooth liquid.

  “There,” Grace said eventually with a nod. “Now, put the mush back in the cauldron.”

  I did as Grace said, and this time, she pointed her wand underneath the cauldron, which lit up in flame.

  “Now take a spatula and
stir it all together. Carefully, you don’t want any air bubbles to form,” Grace said. “With milk chocolate, you want to bring it to eighty-eight degrees. Afterward, you keep the chocolate on the heat while you work with it, stirring it every couple of minutes. Always keep milk chocolate between eighty-six and eighty-eight degrees. If you mess it up, you start over.”

  “Really?” I asked, my eyebrows rising. “Start over from the beginning?”

  “That’s right. Chocolate needs to be tempered properly. Now watch. This chocolate has been tempered properly; see how it acts.”

  Grace took a spoonful of the chocolate and placed it on a piece of parchment paper. “Watch it as it cools. It will have a rich and glossy look to it.” Sure enough, I watched as the chocolate hardened, and it looked exactly the way, well, good chocolate looked. “Now try to snap that piece in half. You’ll see that it really snaps, as opposed to bending a little bit first.”

  I did as she suggested, and sure enough, as soon as I pressed on either side of the small piece of chocolate it gave a satisfying snap. Grace nodded approvingly.

  “Good. Now you know how to temper chocolate. It is the first and the single most important lesson in chocolate making. There are different temperatures for different types of chocolate, and I will bring you a book tomorrow listing all of them, along with the basic spells you need to know for things like checking temperatures.”

  “Thank you so much,” I said, my head somewhat reeling from everything I’d been taught already. “This is very cool.”

  “It really is,” Grace agreed with a nod. “The creation of chocolate is an art. It takes years and years to become truly proficient, and I would be lying if I said it was possible to master it. Although your mother has come close.”

  “Thank you for teaching me.”

  “I enjoy it, not a problem,” Grace said with a smile. “Now, I believe that is enough for one night. I will stay after work tomorrow as well, and I will show you how to make a truffle, one of the easiest and fanciest types of chocolates to make.”