The kitchen filled up again—I’m not sure how much was interest in my stories and how much was interest in the chocolate bars Jeb handed out. I declined mine, explaining to a disgruntled Jamie that I couldn’t talk and chew at the same time; I suspected that he would save one for me, obstinate as ever. Ian was back in his usual hot seat by the fire, and Andy was there—eyes wary—beside Paige. None of the other raiders, including Jared, of course, was in attendance. Doc was not there, and I wondered if he was still drunk or perhaps hung-over. And again, Walter was absent.

Geoffrey, Trudy’s husband, questioned me for the first time tonight. I was pleased, though I tried not to show it, that he seemed to have joined the ranks of the humans who tolerated me. But I couldn’t answer his questions well, which was too bad. His questions were like Doc’s.

“I don’t really know anything about Healing,” I admitted. “I never went to a Healer after… after I first got here. I haven’t been sick. All I know is that we wouldn’t choose a planet unless we were able to maintain the host bodies perfectly. There’s nothing that can’t be healed, from a simple cut, a broken bone, to a disease. Old age is the only cause of death now. Even healthy human bodies were only designed to last for so long. And there are accidents, too, I guess, though those don’t happen as often with the souls. We’re cautious.”

“Armed humans aren’t just an accident,” someone muttered. I was moving hot rolls; I didn’t see who spoke, and I didn’t recognize the voice.

“Yes, that’s true,” I agreed evenly.

“So you don’t know what they use to cure diseases, then?” Geoffrey pressed. “What’s in their medications?”

I shook my head. “I’m sorry, I don’t. It wasn’t something I was interested in, back when I had access to the information. I’m afraid I took it for granted. Good health is simply a given on every planet I’ve lived on.”

Geoffrey’s red cheeks flushed brighter than usual. He looked down, an angry set to his mouth. What had I said to offend him?

Heath, sitting beside Geoffrey, patted his arm. There was a pregnant silence in the room.

“Uh—about the Vultures…” Ian said—the words were forced, a deliberate subject change. “I don’t know if I missed this part sometime, but I don’t remember you ever explaining about them being ‘unkind’… ?”

It wasn’t something I had explained, but I was pretty sure he wasn’t really that interested—this was just the first question he’d been able to think of.