The Royal Academy of Magical Baking

Lyra stumbled backwards to avoid running into Cardamom, only to collide with Boysen as he came up behind her.

"You!" she squeaked, staring wide-eyed at the Presentation assistant framed in the doorway.

Cardamom smiled. "Me. We have to stop meeting like this, Lyra."

A hysterical giggle bubbled out of Lyra's mouth before she could stop it. "It is turning into a habit, isn't it?"

"What are you doing here?" Boysen asked sharply.

Lyra jumped. For three seconds, she had forgotten Boysen was there. Not only there, but actually holding her upright.

She could hear the scowl in Boysen's voice as he steadied her on her feet and stepped back, releasing her. "It's a bit early for dorm rounds, Coulis. Though our projects are ready if you want to get the preservation spells out of the way."

"I'm actually just here for Lyra," Cardamom replied, his tone smoother than perfectly whipped buttercream. "I tried Zester first, and they said I would find you here. But I don't want to interrupt your work —"

"We just finished," Lyra said quickly. "What do you need?"

Cardamom's dark hair somehow caught the sunlight streaming through the window on the other side of the room. It shone like a halo as he explained, "Another pair of hands. I'm trying out the next level of my experimental preservation spell, and I would love to show it to you. Your thoughts would be invaluable."

Lyra's stomach, which only a few moments before had felt like an overheated oven, was now rising like well-proofed ciabatta dough. "My thoughts?"

"We were just about to head to dinner," Boysen cut in. "It's been a long day. Long weekend. Gotta eat."

Cardamom kept his eyes on Lyra, his smile unmoving and yet alive. "I would also love to cook you dinner afterwards. As a token of gratitude."

"We have plans." Boysen tapped Lyra's shoulder. Reluctantly, she turned to look at him. "Flax and Bumble, remember? We promised them yesterday that we'd spend the evening with them after dinner."

"It sounds like Cardamom's project is time-sensitive," Lyra said instinctively.

"It is," Cardamom affirmed. "I'm not sure when I'll get a chance to run this experiment again."

Boysen ignored him, keeping his eyes on Lyra. "You promised to bring your guitar. Didn't you say you owe Flax a concert?"

For a moment, they stared at each other. Lyra almost wavered. The distress in Boysen's normally cheerful face twisted her insides so uncomfortably that she had to drop her eyes.

Then she spotted the sugar cookie in her hand. The frosting's vivid red hue brought all her anger flooding back, and her will hardened.

"I'm sure Chef will understand the need to help a fellow baker." She met Boysen's gaze, even tossing her head in a most Caramelle-like fashion. "I think I've had enough music for one weekend."

Boysen opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He reminded Lyra of her brothers when they'd been roughhousing and 'accidentally' punched each other in the gut.

Her resolve already failing, Lyra shoved the incriminating cookie into his hand. "See you tomorrow. Thanks for… everything. This weekend."

"Thank you," Boysen replied.

His voice sounded hollow. Lyra turned away, eager to leave before her anger ran out. She smiled brightly at Cardamom.

"Shall we?" Lyra asked.

"We shall." Returning her smile, Cardamom offered her his arm. She took it and left Whisk without a backward glance.

—

It turned out that Cardamom didn't need another pair of hands so much as eyes. For Presentation spells to be truly effective, he explained, they required an audience. Lyra was more than happy to fill this role.

Perching on a stool at the counter in Cardamom's kitchen, she watched as he held up his two elaborately carved silver Presentation spoons over a tray of truffles. The truffles were already a work of art. Each one was a perfect sphere, exactly an inch and a half in diameter. The chocolate coating ranged from pure white at one end of the tray, through gradations of cream and tan, to a brown so dark it was almost black. The smooth, shiny surfaces revealed the baker's mastery in the art of chocolate tempering. As if all this weren't enough, each truffle boasted its own unique design, hand-painted in various shades of red and pink.

Lyra had gasped with delight at the first sight of this delightful tray, earning a smile and a bow from Cardamom. But then he'd held a finger to his lips, indicating a need for silence. Lyra swallowed her exclamations of praise. She felt songs bubbling up, a veritable cacophony of choruses for each of these truffles, but she forced them down with a deep, steady breath.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

The truffles were certainly song-worthy, but now was apparently not the time.

For a moment, Cardamom stood motionless, the spoons poised over the tray. Lyra counted nine full beats of her heart. Then, suddenly, he inhaled sharply and began waving the spoons over the truffles. His arms moved slowly at first, then faster and faster, following the steps of a complicated dance. Multiple streams of deep purple light poured from the spoons. They joined the dance, weaving nimbly in and around each other, sparkling so brightly that Lyra had to squint to keep looking.

As they swirled, the purple light-streams formed a living dome over the tray. That was when Lyra became aware of a rich chocolate-y scent filling the air. It emanated from the dome, as though the streams of light were drawing out and absorbing the very essence of the truffles.

Then, at the same moment Cardamom brought the spoons together with a clear-sounding PING, the speed of the swirling began to decrease. The dome of purple light shrank, swirling more and more slowly before sinking into the truffles. Cardamom watched carefully, as if counting in his head. A few seconds later, he brought the spoons together with another, softer PING, and the purple light vanished.

Lyra stared at the tray. If the truffles had been a work of art beforehand, now they were a masterpiece. Each shimmered with its own special glow, as unique as the delicately painted designs, declaring that every single truffle had become a bit more fully itself. Yet the whole tray also shone, proving the various 'glows' were cooperating to form a radiance greater than the sum of its parts. And the smell… that delicious aroma of chocolate filled the air around the tray, so strong that Lyra almost imagined she could see it.

A wave of wonder washed over Lyra. She found herself thinking of 'The Joy Song', when she had last performed it with her family over break. The magic of that song lay in its ability to call forth the joy already dwelling deep in everyone's hearts. Even if one wasn't feeling particularly joyful, an accomplished bard could use that song to reveal, increase, and combine the joys of everyone present, until the room was bursting with a sense of gladsome wholeness.

That's what baking can do, Lyra thought, gazing wide-eyed at the gloriously enchanted truffles. Except even better. 'The Joy Song' never made me feel quite like this…

Looking up, she found Cardamom watching her closely.

"What do you think?"

Lyra couldn't speak. If she opened her mouth, one of the truffle-songs her brain was still rapidly composing would come blaring out. Instead, she nodded fervently, hoping her face conveyed all the admiration she sincerely felt.

Thankfully, Cardamom seemed to understand.

"I knew you would appreciate this spell," he said, returning the silver spoons to his apron pocket. "Even if no one else here does."

With great effort, Lyra forced the songs to the back of her brain. "I don't see how anyone couldn't appreciate it," she gushed. "That glow — I've never seen anything like it. And the scent! How do I still smell chocolate?"

Cardamom leaned over the truffles, sniffing expertly. "Indeed. That's been my focus for this round of experiments. Preserving the look is one thing, but the aroma… Smell forms such a large portion of the culinary experience. If Presentation can capture the nose as well as the eyes, there'll be almost no need for taste."

Lyra couldn't fully agree with that last sentence, but she was not about to ruin this moment by quibbling. She just nodded again and held out a hand over the tray, hovering palm-down.

"Is it like those cupcakes you showed us at the beginning of the year? Nothing can touch them?"

In answer, Cardamom placed his hand on top of hers and pushed down. Just before her hand encountered the truffles, a ripple of purple light emerged, buzzing against her fingers before disappearing back into the treats.

"Fully protected, like the cupcakes. This spell doesn't last as long, though." He sighed as he released her hand, almost scowling at the tray. "I had to sacrifice duration to get the aroma right. Next step is to put it all together. By the end of the year, I plan to have a round of preservation spells covering both sight and smell, for any length of time one might require."

"I can help," Lyra said eagerly. "I mean, I'd love to help. If you want."

"You already have. As I said, Presentation requires an audience. That's one of the first things I learned from Professor Genoise." He spread his hands, indicating the tray of dazzling truffles. "Your presence and attention made tonight's breakthrough possible. Thank you, Lyra."

"Any time." Stifling a wayward giggle, Lyra tried to match his professional tone. "But I would love to help more actively. Even just as a sounding board? If you need to bounce ideas off someone, or talk things out?"

Elegantly, he raised a single eyebrow. "That wouldn't be boring for you?"

"Not at all," she assured him. "I would find it… fascinating."

"I confess it would be helpful." Sighing again, Cardamon rested his hands lightly on the counter. Lyra wondered how he kept his nails so clean, even after working with chocolate. "Innovation requires secrecy. I don't have anyone here at the academy I can really trust, especially with the in-process experiments."

Lyra's eyes widened. "Not even Professor Genoise?"

"Oh, I can trust him. But his days are full already. He doesn't have time to show the proper interest."

"Then let me," Lyra begged.

He smiled. "Your days are full, too."

"You're my Presentation tutor," she countered.

"Exactly. I'm taking up far too much of your time already." He paused. "Though, I do most of my experiments on the weekends. Sunday nights, like tonight —"

"Sunday nights are free," Lyra broke in. "I'll be getting my projects done in the afternoons. And I'm sure it would be beneficial for my education, participating in the work of a real Presentation expert."

"You've convinced me." Smiling even more broadly, Cardamon held out his hand across the truffle-tray for a formal shake. "I accept your offer of assistance, Aspiring Baker Treble, with humble gratitude. Shall we begin at once?"

Lyra shook the offered hand. Was it just her imagination, or were the truffles actually singing 'The Joy Song' in twelve-part harmony?

"We shall, Apprentice Baker Coulis."

The rest of the evening was a happy blur to Lyra. Cardamom came alive before her eyes, theorizing recitation strategies and sketching out spoon movement patterns and speculating the necessary adjustments for different types of pastry. There didn't seem to be much need for Lyra to answer, or to speak at all, which was just fine by her. She was content to sit at the counter, watching and listening with all her might as Cardamom questioned the very limits of preservation magic.

Eventually, he remembered his promise to make her dinner. With a feast of apologies for the delay, he set to work, not allowing her to lift a finger. Soon they were sitting at the counter together, enjoying a selection of sweet and savory crêpes. He was just explaining the secret to his delicious lemon curd — a touch of cardamom, of course — when a sharp knock sounded on the open door.

Turning, Lyra froze when she saw the intruder, every muscle in her shoulders suddenly stiffer than overbeaten egg whites.

"I do hope I'm not intruding," Caramelle Meringue said coldly.