I nodded.

“How many eyes?”

“Twelve—one at each juncture of the leg and the body. We didn’t have lids, just a lot of fibers—like steel wool eyelashes—to protect them.”

He nodded, his eyes bright. “Were they furry, like tarantulas?”

“No. Sort of… armored—scaled, like a reptile or a fish.”

I slouched against the wall, settling myself in for a long conversation.

Jeb didn’t disappoint on that count. I lost track of how many questions he asked me. He wanted details—the Spiders’ looks, their behaviors, and how they’d handled Earth. He didn’t flinch away from the invasion details; on the contrary, he almost seemed to enjoy that part more than the rest. His questions came fast on the heels of my answers, and his grins were frequent. When he was satisfied about the Spiders, hours later, he wanted to know more about the Flowers.

“You didn’t half explain that one,” he reminded me.

So I told him about that most beautiful and placid of planets. Almost every time I stopped to breathe, he interrupted me with a new question. He liked to guess the answers before I could speak and didn’t seem to mind getting them wrong in the least.

“So did ya eat flies, like a Venus flytrap? I’ll bet you did—or maybe something bigger, like a bird—like a pterodactyl!”

“No, we used sunlight for food, like most plants here.”

“Well, that’s not as much fun as my idea.”

Sometimes I found myself laughing with him.

We were just moving on to the Dragons when Jamie showed up with dinner for three.

“Hi, Wanderer,” he said, a little embarrassed.

“Hi, Jamie,” I answered, a little shy, not sure if he would regret the closeness we’d shared. I was, after all, the bad guy.

But he sat down right next to me, between me and Jeb, crossing his legs and setting the food tray in the middle of our little conclave. I was starving, and parched from all the talking. I took a bowl of soup and downed it in a few gulps.

“Shoulda known you were just being polite in the mess hall today. Gotta speak up when you’re hungry, Wanda. I’m no mind reader.”

I didn’t agree with that last part, but I was too busy chewing a mouthful of bread to answer.

“Wanda?” Jamie asked.

I nodded, letting him know that I didn’t mind.

“Kinda suits her, doncha think?” Jeb was so proud of himself, I was surprised he didn’t pat himself on the back, just for effect.

“Kinda, I guess,” Jamie said. “Were you guys talking about dragons?”