Like Mat, Key's cousin, Fisher, had dark brown skin and jet black hair, though his was cropped to his ears. He also stood several inches taller, with broad shoulders that made him a clear blood relative of Key's mother, Ura. He also wore a scarlet skirt, marking him as a priest of the Shax'ia faith. As a priest, he did not travel as most Thisaazhou did, but lived in the same place all year, maintainig a Shax'ia shrine in southern Nefrale. His home was built in a meadow with a dirt road leading up to it. There was enough space for at least a dozen trucks with trailers like the Truuits', though at the moment, they were the only family there. Not far from the house was a circle of hard packed dirt, ringed by stones, with another, smaller ring of stones in the center. And across the circle was the shrine--a small wooden table with carved figurines representing the many gods of the faith. At the moment, Mat was helping Fisher clear it of debris that had fallen during a storm the night before.

"Where did all this come from?" Mat looked around. "The tree line's all the way over there."

"If you get a good squall in the right direction, that doesn't matter too much," Fisher said, "the winds can get pretty fierce around here, especially in the stormy season. Hand me those branches. We can use them in the fire pit."

Mat handed Fisher two branches which had fallen onto the shrine. As he did, he noticed one of the stone figurines had broken and pointed it out to Fisher.

"Oh no." Fisher handled the pieces as reverently as Matsias had once handled his Pelan headscarf. "Uuzahat, I'll carve a new one."

"Which god is Uuzahat?"

"He's not a god. He's the first invited Thisaazhou. You ought to know about him, actually." Matsias knew Fisher said this because he himself had been invited to join Key's family through a song-circle.

"Can you tell me the story?"

"Are you familiar with Auras?" Fisher said as they carried the branches to the fire pit.

"In Diamondheart? Laura Pfieffer lived there for a year, as part of cult."

Fisher grinned. "Well, the cult was built on the ruin of Diamondheart's first capital."

"What happened to it?"

"No one knows." Fisher laid the branches in the inner circle of stones. "This was back when the Thisaazhou were farmers. Uuzahat lived among them as a farm hand. He was also a seer, and he used his gift to help his fellow farmers prepare for drought and blight.

"When the king heard of his abilities, he summoned Uuzahat to be his personal seer. So he served in the court at Auras, where he married and had a child. He served the king for years, until he made a prophecy the king didn't like."

"What was it?"

Fisher's face grew dark. "A storm sent from the gods themselves, which would decimate the country beyond repair."

"And they couldn't stop it?"

"When the gods speak, they speak." Matsias should have known better than to ask such a question of a Shax'ia priest. Fisher continued. "The only thing they could do was leave. But the king didn't want to, so he locked Uuzahat up. When he continued to prophecy disaster, the people of Auras began to flee. And the king had Uuzahat's wife and daughter executed as punishment. Then he sent him away, with only the clothes on his back.

"Of course, by then, the Thisaazhou had heard the news, so when he returned to the farms, the matriarch took his hand and said, 'rura qeets uthih rauz rik rausee rausaata theeshu tsiki.'"

"What does that mean?"

"To you, who have lost so much, I swear my fealty."

"So... she bound herself to him?" This reminded Matsias of his mother, bound to her people, never to leave them.

"She bound the whole clan to him. And since he was banished, they followed. That's how we became nomads. Why don't we rest? I imagine that leg is getting heavy." He lead Mat to a pair of logs that sat just beyond the stone ring to serve as stools for people. "I'll join you in a minute. I'm making a bow for my sister's coming of age. Let me get my things." Matsias agreed and settled on a stump as Fisher gathered his supplies.

"Is a bow a common gift?" Since Mat was officially Thisaazhou now, he had determined he should know these things.

"It is, actually. We've bow hunted since we left with Uuzahat. Do you shoot?"

Matsias shook his head. "The Pelan used to, I guess. But we stopped at some point." Fisher nodded at this response, familiar enough with Pelan history. "But... Key and her dad hunt with rifles too. Why keep the bow?"

"Our bows connect us to our ancestors. Most families teach their children to make and shoot a bow before they learn to use a rifle. Besides," Fisher grinned. "Some of us like it more." He picked up a piece of wood and carefully stripped it with a knife. "You mentioned Laura Pfieffer. Did you know the Thisaazhou have songs about her brother?"

"I didn't. But it makes sense. She wrote about traveling with them."

"Her and Marcus both. And after they got separated, when he went back to traveling with them, his matriarch said the same thing to him—rausee rausaata theeshu tsiki. It's like saying you're as close as blood family. Everything we have is yours."

Mat watched Fisher work for a while, occasionally asking questions, until they heard the sound of wheels on the road. A truck approached, pulling a trailer behind. As it came to a halt, the door of the Truuits' own trailer banged open, and Key came flying out. Her parents followed at a more stately pace.

The first person out of the new truck was a girl who looked only a few years older than Matsias.

"Primrose!" Key yelled, still running toward the newcomer.

"Key!" Primrose threw her arms around the younger girl. A woman resembling Ura got out of the driver's seat.

Fisher gathered his things. "I suppose I'd better put this away before my sister sees them." He nodded toward the newcomers. "Why don't you go introduce yourself? I'll be there in a minute."

Matsias stood and walked slowly toward the group. His pace wasn't due so much to his leg as to the sight of Primrose's father helping a grey haired woman out of the truck. Like Key's mother and aunt, she wore a wrap skirt. Mat knew the number of colors on a Thisaazhou woman's skirt indicated her social standing, and hers had at least five. This was Key's grandmother, the family matriarch. He had yet to meet her, but if he knew one thing about Thisaazhou matriarchs, it was that they weren't to be trifled with.

"Come on, Mat!" Key was by his side before he knew it, pulling him toward the group as Ura embraced her sister and Fisher returned from putting away his things. "Mat, this is my grandma."

Matsias tried to stand tall even though the authority the woman wielded made him want to shrink away. "It's nice to meet you, ma'am."

He offered a hand to Key's grandmother, but she didn't shake it. Instead, she reached out to cup his face. "tseerk rausee rausaata theeshu tsiki."