Key sat at the kitchen table, working on a map under her mother's watchful eye. Her best friend, Matsias, sat next to her, also watching as she carefully drew out the shape of the Ardilic Mountains. He said nothing, but his very presence was meaningful. It was one of the few times Matsias had not been coaxed from their bedroom since his parents had died. His black hair, normally carefully braided, had been pulled back into a simple horsetail. He pushed his glasses further up on his nose, as if to get a better view of Key's work, but Key had a feeling he was seeing something else.

As Key's father lit the stove and searched through the cupboard for spices, Mat turned his head to watch the cooking process. He measured rice and water into a pot, walked back to the refigerator, and saw the boy watching him. "Do you want to help?"

Matsias stood up and approached the stove, still clumsy on his new prosthetic. Key watched as he went through the spices and spoke with her father about dinner. She told herself it was because Mat used to cook with his own father--Key had eaten several meals prepared by the Pelan men of Illegate--but she couldn't help feel jealous. Her father had never invited her to join him in the kitchen.

Her mother coughed, and Key recognized it as a signal that she was distracted. The boys were doing their work, and she needed to return to hers. "Key?"

"Key?"

Key jumped at the sound of the voice in the doorway. Her father stood there, smiling. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay, I just... I was unpacking." They had been back a couple of days, but Key had waited until her brother was busy to unpack. Since they shared a bedroom, she had to be careful about what he saw come out of her suitcase. He was outside, helping her cousin, Fisher, clean up after the previous night's squall. She didn't know how to tell her father she thought Mat has come in early. He would have said there was little about Mat's slender frame and quiet demeanor that should frighten her.

Her father looked at the item on the top of her unpacked suitcase--the thing she did not want Mat to see. Before she could stop him, he picked it up delicately. It was a long piece of fabric, like a woman's shawl, but narrower. From the center, an array of intricate embroidery spread out about halfway to each end. The metallic threads glinted in the sunlight coming in through the window. She knew he would recognize it immediately as a Thisaazhou baby shawl. But Thisaazhou women didn't make such things, so he turned to her and said, "What is this?"

Key put her hands behind her back since she didn't know what else to do with them. "It was... my midterm project for my sewing class." She had not mentioned to either of her parents that she had registered for a sewing class at Faraday. "I got top marks, even though it wasn't finished. I had to turn it in a week early, so my teacher could return it to me before the holiday." Now she was rambling.

"We don't know anyone having a baby."

Key stared at the ground. "It's for Mat. It was supposed to be a Messengers Day gift. I know it's barely been a year since his parents died, but I wanted him to know he's part of our family too. I thought..." She trailed off, sure the idea sounded stupid to her father.

He traced the embroidery on the left side of the shawl. Key had purposely done this side in purple to represent Mat's heritage. The shawl was a variation on the traditional style, in which each side represented histories of the child's parents. Mat's was intended to represent his Pelan family on one side and his Thisaazhou family on the other. "You know," Key's father said slowly, "a baby shawl usually takes eight months to embroider."

"I know." Key didn't look up. She didn't need her father telling her what she did wrong or how she'd perverted tradition.

"When did you start?"

Key tried to remember. "The beginning of Fya?" She didn't tell him that she had also made her own set of Thisaazhou clothes, buried further down in her bag.

"It's good work." Key ventured a glance at her father as he examined the shawl. "But you'll have to ride hard to finish in time."

Key shook her head. "There's no way. Like you said, it usually takes eight months."

Her father looked up at the sound of another trailer pulling to the parking area near their own. "That'll be your aunt," he said, "we ought to greet them."

As excited as Key was to see her cousin, Primrose, and introduce Matsias to her grandmother, who traveled with her aunt and uncle, she was annoyed at the timing. "Okay." She reached a hand out for the baby shawl, though she didn't expect her father to give it back.

He didn't. He folded it gently and then told her. "Why don't I keep it in my room? To make sure Mat doesn't see it? We can work on it tonight, after dinner."

"We?" She raised her head to see her father's smiling face.

"We'll be up late, but I think we can finish it together, if we each take a side. If you'll accept my help, that is."

"You would do that?"

"Well, I'm not about to let your ability go to waste, am I? But we'd better not keep your grandmother waiting."

Key hugged her dad with all her might. Then she ran down the hall and out the door to greet her cousin.