“How would you know that?” Sven asked. “I mean, that she’s not a great witch.”
“Again, she talked about it. Sort of ostracized by her family for causing too many explosions.”
If Sven could turn any paler, Magnus swore he was at this moment. “Explosions?”
“Only if she casts spells.” Magnus shut his binder full of menu ideas and gripped his twin by the shoulders. “Everything will be fine. You’re absolutely right, this is what we were working toward.”
Sven nodded. “She’s an excellent housekeeper.”
“Agreed.”
The moment the words came out of his mouth, there was a muffled boom and a shudder under their feet. Sven’s eyes widened, and Magnus tried to stifle a chuckle.
“How about I go downstairs and check on things,” Magnus offered. “You do what you have to do and try not to think about combustion.”
Sven frowned. “There’s probably a logical reason.”
There was another muffled rumble followed by another shudder.
“I’m sure there is,” Magnus said, mollifying his brother.
At least, he hoped there was.
He turned into his apparition form and glided slowly through the various levels until reaching the basement. There was a bit of white smoke billowing out from the old embalming room, which was now the laundry room. Quiet cursing was coming from the room too. Mercedes did not sound happy.
He walked slowly over to the door and opened it cautiously. “Mercedes?”
She spun around, her hair blown back out of its bun and smoking. Her dark eyes were frantic and there was soot on her cheeks. Sheets were erupting out of the big industrial washing machine and the dryer seemed to belch up big clumps of lint. “I swear, I don’t know what happened.”
Magnus smiled slightly because it was a comical sight. He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway. “I thought you said no explosions. I mean, you promised me that.”
Mercedes ran her hand over her hair, trying to smooth it back. “I wasn’t spell casting at all. I was doing laundry. Okay, I was talking to one of your spirits and I was pouring in homemade laundry detergent.”
“One you made?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Isn’t that sort of like potion making?”
Mercedes held up her hand to stop him. “I’ve used this concoction before. It’s never done this and why would it effect the dryer?”
The dryer, in response, belched up another cloud of lint which smelled like a fresh summer meadow.
Mercedes groaned and slid down the dryer, sitting on the tiled floor. “I don’t know what happened.”
Magnus was slightly worried that his curse when he was consulting the runes out on the hallowed grounds might’ve had something to do with it, but he couldn’t be sure about that.
She was absolutely flustered, like him.
“You need a coffee break,” he stated.
“I can’t take a coffee break. I have so much work to do to help you guys get ready for your grand opening in a week. This place has to be spotless.”
“Who is the boss?”
She grinned. “Sven.”
He rolled his eyes. “I am co-owner. Sven just has a sensible head on his shoulders, that’s all.”