His gaze flicked past my shoulder then, and I could see the barest rush of fear behind his eyes.

"Good morning, Lucas," I said. "I've brought some friends who wanted to meet you."

He recovered well. "Please, come in."

"This is Tommy and his daughter Gweniveve – "

"Call me Gwen," she said easily.

"And you know the kid," I added with a grin.

"H'lo," Lucas mumbled, ducking his head.

"Pleasure," Tommy said, and Gwen held out her hand. Lucas wiped his palms on the tail of his shirt, then looked horrified at his own actions and shook her hand hastily.

"I don't suppose, being new, you'll have heard about us," Gwen said, as Lucas withdrew far enough to let us in and close the door.

"No – no," Lucas confessed. "Are you, uh, staying long?"

"A bit," Tommy said. "Not through the winter."

"Being the local land-owner and all, we thought we'd come say hello, ask permission to stay," Gwen announced. Tommy frowned at her.

"It's, uh, it's not my land," Lucas stammered. "I just pay rent. I don't even pay rent on the field."

"Well, better to ask," Gwen replied. "We're in sight of your windows, after all."

"It isn't my place to say," Lucas murmured.

"Do you have visitors often?" Tommy asked.

"Not to speak of. Christopher and the boy, of course," Lucas said, and then blurted, "I don't care, honestly, I don't think you'll rob me and I haven't got anything worth stealing anyway."

Tommy and Gwen glanced at each other before bursting out laughing. The boy elbowed Lucas in the ribs.

"It's all right, Lucas. They know," I said gently.

"Just...so that you do," Lucas continued, flushing red.

"There's no reason to be scared of us," Gwen said. "Or worry overmuch about our opinion. That's something land-owners do."

Lucas looked at her, shy still but no longer paralyzed by it. "I suppose it doesn't matter as much when you don't have the same neighbors from one day to the next."

"Was on the tip of my tongue to say," Tommy agreed. "You could learn from him, Christopher."

"I already have," I agreed.

"We're told you're an artist," Gwen continued. "Do you barter at all? Or are you wealthy already?"

"I...never have but I could, I guess. Would you....would you like to see?" Lucas asked, gesturing to the doorway into his workshop. Tommy, already standing near the door, leaned through with interest, Gwen bending around his shoulder.

"Ooo-ho," Tommy said, impressed. "Did you make all of those?"

"All but a few," Lucas replied, as they stepped into the workshop. He followed them, the boy pushing ahead, and I stood in the doorway and watched, pleased.

"You must spend a fair amount of time at work," Tommy observed, reaching up to one long rope of masks and pushing it gently to make it sway.

"Most of my time, usually. Less, in the past week or two," Lucas replied. Gwen reached out for one of the barely-finished masks on the table. "Watch the paint, it's still wet."

She carefully balanced the edges of the mask on her fingertips, admiring it. I don't remember what question she asked him, but it led to another and another – both her and Tommy peppering him with inquiries about his craft and his materials, while the boy played with leather scraps and glue at one of the tables, avoiding looking directly at any of the masks.

With every sentence, the tension in Lucas's shoulders seemed to relax a fraction. His voice settled down from a tight, nervous tone into his natural register, and he started moving quickly among the worktables, fear forgotten as he picked up other masks or materials to show them. The Socrates mask had been finished – it looked splendid, haloed in dried and preserved hemlock.

"That man is born Friendly," Tommy said to me in an undertone, as Gwen admired Socrates. "Some fool's ruined him, is all."

"Ruined him?" I asked.

"Some teacher. Or his father, maybe. Could be natural temperament, I suppose, but he likes to sell his wares."

"He likes to talk about his masks. That's different."

"Not to my family," Tommy replied. "Nor to him. Lucas!"

"Yes?" Lucas asked, looking up from the mask.

"Are you in need of any cold-weather clothing?" Tommy asked. "We make our own and sell it. Also carven wood toys, some leather working, some food. Rabbits and chickens for cooking."

"You want masks?" Lucas gave Gwen a confused look. "What for?"

"Well, for beauty's sake, and they'll sell well," she said, beaming at him.

"I could use a new coat," he said, a little self-consciousness creeping back in. "Would that be expensive?"