“I say we roast ’em, and eat their blue fingers.”
The rest stare at Fassn.
“Eat the Jiko?” Cang asks.
“With those white-full-moon eyes?” Shyan adds.
“Old Aj need fill,” Abia says.
“That’s it exactly, Abia.” Fassn gnaws at his last, stale chunk of bread. “‘The bluer the better,’ as he always says.”
Shyan scoffs. “Another tenant of Old Ajralan?”
Fassn nods. “That’s why his sacred food is the bjimba berry. Blue as my bloody lips.”
“Do you suppose it’s true that the Jiko brought the cold?” Cang asks.
“Did a bunch of slimy blue critters bring ice and snow to this place?” Shyan casts a glance at Abianarin. “Not likely.”
“Well if we’re not gonna eat them,” Fassn says, “we should just go back and eat Grumalla.”
Cang waves away the idea. “Far too stringy.”