******205****** Alden poured what was left of his cup of dried fish mix into a plastic bag that had held one of his disposable ponchos. He couldn’t find anything that looked like a waste receptacle here, and the Artonan boy he’d questioned had already escaped into the library proper. After belatedly worrying about the safety of his breakfast, Alden had asked the System about it and been informed, via a message that had an unnecessarily amused tone to it, that yovkews were bad for his liver. He wasn’t going to get sick from having a few, but scarfing them like potato chips would mean he needed to take a potion. They were more okay than delicious, and he liked all of his organs. So why risk it? He didn’t think eating (...)