"You… can't sing?" Lyra repeated weakly.

Rye nodded, his eyes still fixed on the floor.

"But… but that's okay," Boysen protested. "I mean, Lyra's the only real singer here. The rest of us muddle through the baking songs just fine."

Mac raised his hand. "I'm a terrible singer. Singing the spells still works for me. I just stay really, really quiet."

"You're not a terrible singer," Lyra assured him. "None of you are. I've always thought that anyone can sing, really. It's just that some voices are… stronger than others."

"I am afraid that is an inaccurate viewpoint, Aspiring Baker Treble," Professor Puff said grimly. "Not everyone can sing. True, most people can carry a tune. But I have encountered a few individuals in my life who simply lack a musical ear."

"I'm sure Rye isn't one of those." Caramelle placed a tentative hand on her cousin's shoulder. "Right? You're probably not as bad as you think you are."

Rye shook his head mournfully. "I'm worse."

Boysen clapped a hand on his other shoulder. "Why don't you let Lyra coach you? Get you to a point where you can at least sing it under your breath, like Fondant does?"

Professor Puff shook her head. "That will not be sufficient for the board. If he is going to do a demonstration, they will expect to experience the spell as it has been performed by others. In its fullness."

"And it's not a matter of coaching." Rye gave them all a sad smile. "Trust me. I have it on good authority, from multiple sources, that I sound like a goat who swallowed a rooster."

"Then… could Lyra go with him to the board meeting?" Boysen suggested. "Or Chef Flax, or someone who can sing the spell?"

Lyra brightened. "You have a very pleasant singing voice, Professor. Could you demonstrate the spell? Attend the board meeting with Rye?"

Again, Professor Puff shook her head. "My presence has not been requested. Not yet. I am hopeful that we will be given an opportunity later in the year to contribute our insight, but until such time, only the three Apprentice Bakers have been invited to speak."

"My parents were going on about this quite a bit over the break," Caramelle said gloomily. "They are very concerned that this first term evaluation be 'objective.' No one who has direct involvement in Enjoyment can speak."

Boysen scowled. "There's nothing 'objective' about Florentine and Eclair."

"Nor about Apprentice Baker Galette," Professor Puff pointed out.

"Certainly not," Rye agreed, making an effort to rouse himself from his melancholy. "I'm for Enjoyment, through and through."

"But you said you didn't think you could ever do it," Lyra reminded him.

Rye shrugged. "Plenty of bakers have a discipline that they just don't take to. I've never been great at Flavor spells. I can get by. And I always make sure the Texture and Presentation are of extra high quality. But Flavor magic is my weakest point as a baker. Doesn't mean I can't appreciate Flavor in a dish, or that I don't value Flavor as a discipline."

"That's different." Lyra looked to Professor Puff for confirmation. "Right? Bakers may be weak in a particular discipline, but they can still do it. Otherwise… they wouldn't be bakers."

Professor Puff looked momentarily thunderstruck. "Yes," she said, almost as if to herself. "Of course. A baking discipline is only valid if its spells can be performed by all bakers. And not all bakers can sing. We've been off-course, right from the start. Oh… salts."

She trailed off, staring into the space next to Lyra's ear.

The second-years exchanged nervous glances. Lyra couldn't hold anyone's gaze for too long. She suddenly felt like she was drowning in a tide of 'disappointment' music.

This is it, went the sad refrain, far more oppressive on the ears than a goat who had swallowed a rooster. Enjoyment isn't real. You were all lost in a dream. Now you wake up. There is no fourth baking discipline. And that means there can't be a fourth academy student…

Suddenly, Professor Puff gave her head a swift, decisive shake.

"Very well," she said, her tone even calmer and crisper than usual. "I cannot believe I have been approaching this endeavor with such willful blindness. Thank you, Apprentice Baker Galette, for bringing this egregious error in reasoning to our attention. I take full responsibility for our wasted time."

"Wasted time?" Boysen repeated.

Caramelle's voice sounded small and faraway in Lyra's ears. "Do you mean… Enjoyment? It's not a valid discipline after all?"

Professor Puff raised a single delicate eyebrow. "Whatever gave you that idea? Of course it is a valid discipline."

Lyra and her friends exchanged another round of glances, this time of the 'bemused' variety.

"But…" Caramelle began hesitantly. "You said… 'egregious error', and 'wasted time', and —"

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

"The error was in our methods." Professor Puff pulled out her silver Texture spoon and began polishing the handle vigorously on her apron. "Enjoyment appeared first in a musical context, so we have been limiting our exploration to the musical realm. In doing so, we have placed our own limitations on the discipline. Imaginary limitations. Harmful limitations. We have cut off all bakers who are not musically inclined."

Professor Puff's tone still did not waver, though her polishing grew more and more spirited. "That, Aspiring Baker Meringue, was an egregious error. An error which has led to a monumental waste of time."

"So… I can perform Enjoyment magic?" Rye asked.

"Of course you can, Galette. Either all bakers can participate, or no bakers." The Texture headmistress finally ceased her emphatic polishing and gazed around at the huddled students. "That should have been clear from the start. My humblest apologies to each of you."

"It's not your fault," Caramelle assured her.

Boysen gave a single firm nod. "Definitely not. 'Enjoyment' has always meant 'music.' In my mind, at least."

Mac murmured his assent.

Lyra wasn't sure what to feel. The tide of disappointment music was receding, but with it went the fragile layer of certainty she had been carefully building over the past few months.

"If Enjoyment isn't music-based," she said slowly, "then… where do we even begin?"

"It is not a question of beginning," Professor Puff replied. "It is a matter of proceeding. Our foundation is not faulty, but too narrow. We are not starting over. We are merely building out as well as up."

"How?" Lyra asked.

Professor Puff flourished her silver spoon like a conductor waving a baton. "By following the plan laid out last night, Aspiring Baker Treble. You will all spend Mondays and Fridays developing this and other new spells. Just make sure at least some portion of your exploration is nonmusical."

"But what about Rye?" Mac blurted, forgetting for once to raise his hand. "What about the board meeting?"

"Aspiring Baker Galette can still perform Chef Flax's Enjoyment song." Professor Puff held up a hand to forestall Rye's protests. "But as a normal baking spell. Spoken, not sung. Mentally recited, even."

Rye sighed in relief.

Boysen, on the other hand, did not look convinced. "It's hard enough to produce some kind of effect while singing that spell. Do you think it'll work at all, this way? I mean…"

Professor Puff's gaze was so severe that the Flavor King cut himself off abruptly.

"Apprentice Baker Galette is an accomplished student of magical baking," the professor said. "I am confident he is up to the task. Particularly with the rest of the week to prepare."

"I can help!" Lyra offered, turning to Rye. "We all can. Four days? We can get in a ton of practice…"

Professor Puff flourished her wand again in a strikingly conductor-like fashion. Lyra's deeply ingrained habits of musical etiquette kicked in, and she hushed automatically.

"Not so fast, Treble." Professor Puff spoke sternly, but her eyes were kind. "We have a full week of curriculum ahead of us. The mysteries of puff pastry await."

Lyra and Boysen both opened their mouths to object, but one glance from the professor's gray eyes silenced them.

"As I said, Galette is a highly proficient baker." Professor Puff returned the silver spoon to her apron pocket and straightened her blue headscarf in a business-like manner. "He can master this spell without your assistance."

Rye squared his shoulders. "I won't let you down, Professor. Or any of you," he added, turning to the second-years.

"Of course you won't." Professor Puff's hand lifted. Behind her, a piece of chalk rose into the air and began writing equations on the board. "To your work-stations, Aspiring Bakers. Today is still Texture lab, and we have the delights of pastry magic to explore."

—

Lyra was sure the rest of the week would crawl by in an agony of suspense. Thankfully, Professor Puff's use of the term 'delight' had been an accurate descriptor of her pastry namesake. All three lab days flew by in a flurry of folded dough, cold butter blocks, and ever-increasing layers.

Though the baseline Texture spell for puff pastry was more mathematical than the spells for shortcrust or choux, Lyra still found herself enjoying it. All the second-years did. Caramelle even caught Mac singing it under his breath at dinner on Tuesday, and again later during 'Puff Paragon Review.'

"I can't help it," he said shyly. "I know it's just the recipe and a bunch of numbers, but it's so catchy!"

"I think it's the muscle memory associated with it." Boysen grinned as he mimed wielding a rolling pin like a baseball bat. "Pastry itself is all right. Mac just likes the bit where we pound out the butter block. It's all that famous Fondant aggression."

Lyra wasn't sure about 'Fondant aggression', but she definitely understood the appeal of the puff pastry process.

It started the same as shortcrust. She still got to savor the sensation of flour and butter coming together in her fingers to make dough. With puff pastry, though, that was only the beginning.

Once the dough was chilling, it was time to prepare the butter block. All three professors had a slightly different approach to this crucial stage. Professor Genoise placed the butter between two sheets of parchment paper and used his two silver spoons to flatten it to the desired proportions. Professor Honeycomb used her fingers, spreading and pressing with hearty cheer.

The second-years all agreed that Professor Puff's technique was the best. The demure Texture headmistress also employed two sheets of parchment paper, but she did not adhere to Professor Genoise's delicate, slow spoon-method. Instead, she produced a thick rolling pin from her apron pocket and pounded the butter into submission.

It was incredible to witness. It was even more incredible for the second-years to take their own rolling pins and practice with their own butter blocks. Since this was also the part of the process where the Texture magic was performed, Lyra shared Mac's fascination with that spell.

Still, Lyra's favorite part of the process was the next stage. The chilled dough had to be rolled out into a square, then the butter block placed at a forty-five degree angle in the center. Each corner of the dough was folded over the butter to create a packet. This packet was rolled out into a rectangle, which could then be folded in thirds like a letter. Rotating that letter accomplished the first turn. The dough could then be wrapped and chilled in preparation for the other five turns.

Lyra loved every moment of this stage. The Presentation spell was so simple, chanting it was almost more fun than singing it. (Almost.) Her arms fell naturally into the rhythm of rolling, folding, and turning the dough, performing the Presentation spell throughout. It was also fun to sing the Flavor spell over the chilling dough in between each turn. The second-years agreed that alternating the baking disciplines in such swift succession added an extra dose of 'zest' to the whole experience.

They were all still thinking about the upcoming board meeting, of course. Not even the pounding of the butter block could drive those worries from each Puff Paragon's head. But when Rye made his dorm rounds on Thursday night, his report was encouraging.

"I'm pretty sure I've been saying the words of that song in my sleep," he told them. "Professor Puff thinks I may know it better than Chef now. And it's working. I mean, I feel… something. When I say it."

Boysen pointed to the kitchen, where Mac was pounding out yet another practice block of butter with gleeful abandon. "Do you feel like that?"

A slow smile curled up the corners of Rye's mouth.

"Not yet," he said, watching Mac's shoulders give a blithe, involuntary shimmy. "But I have another whole day to practice. I'll get there."

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