“It’s wrong to eat them, right?” Shyan asks.
Abia inclines her head, listens to the music of the twinkling snow.
“May we have our fill,” Fassn says.
“And there is of course,” Cang says, “the matter of our promised compensation.”
Shyan says, “They might know we’re lying about Grumalla. If we try to claim it.”
“Yet if we do not, then for what have we come to this awful and accursed place?”
Shyan shakes her head. “I blame that creepy throne.”
“Couldn’t hurt to warm this place up a bit,” Fassn says, shivering.