Everything was edible.

The flowers had tasted like sweet and sour Gummy Bears and were massively high energy. The tree bark was varying flavors of chocolate. (I only peeled it away from fallen trees.) The water was pink lemonade and the plants tasted like fruit, even the leaves. The mushrooms—though they were the color and consistency of Hershey kisses—I hadn’t cared for. They’d been pretty much like those on Earth. Sautéed, breaded, or plain, mushrooms always tasted like dirt to me.

“I like mushrooms,” Dancer protested. “Have you ever tried a stuffed Portobello?”

Lying on my back next to him, I turned my head and narrowed my eyes. “I now find you completely suspicious and don’t think we can be friends anymore, Brain.”

He grinned. “Continue, Pinky. Tell me more about Dada.”

The plants were so large, with such mammoth, sturdy, coated leaves that Shazam and I had been able to pluck them from segmented stems and sail down pink rivers together, racing kaleidoscopic, flying fish. The sky was light lavender and, at dusk, it turned violet before settling into a deep purple twilight. True night never fell on Dada, beneath seven brilliant purple moons that peaked at intervals.

I had no idea how long I’d stayed on that planet. I’d counted it as four months. Four blissful, peaceful months that had undone a lot of the damage from the past three years. I’d arrived on Dada badly injured. I’d left ready to tackle anything, and a damn good thing, too, because the next world had been hostile and harsh.

“How did you keep track of time?” Dancer said.

“Sloppily,” I told him.

I’d had no watch and days Silverside unfolded in an unquantifiable blur, although I’d done my best to track it. Some planets had short nights, others felt like they lasted days, and on a few no sun ever rose. Those were the really bad ones.

Although I’d told people I’d been gone five and a half years, it was only a rough estimate. Still, I was pretty sure I was somewhere between nineteen and twenty-one.

“So, I might be a seriously younger man,” Dancer said, smirking. “You cougar, you.”

I snickered. Me, a cougar. Right. “Not in any way that matters,” I told him. Age didn’t exist when I was with him. He was just Dancer and I was just me. We were sprawled out on our backs on one of the counters in the physics lab, holding hands. I’d dropped by to stock up on food but had taken one look at the exhaustion in his face and ended up staying, searching for something to say that would make him light up, recharge.

He propped himself up on an elbow. “Tell me more about Shazam.”

I stared into those long-lashed, brilliant aqua eyes that I adored seeing light up with laughter and fascination, especially when they were turned my way. What deranged God would give him a damaged heart? I’d already told him how we’d met. So I told him why we had to leave Dada. “He ate all the fish. I think to extinction. The other animals found out and stampeded, chased us all the way to the exit portal I located shortly after we arrived. He was only gone an hour when he did it.” I frowned. “I’m not sure how he ate them all so fast. I think he has another form he never lets me see. Maybe more than one. There’s a lot about Shazam I don’t know. The whole hiding up in the air gig, he never taught me how to do it, though I pestered him relentlessly.”

And it would have proved invaluable if he had. Some worlds had shorted out my sidhe-seer gifts. Shaz had a theory those planets were heavily laced with some mineral my blood reacted to badly. I’d always felt sick on those worlds and been unable to freeze-frame. Those had been tough worlds to survive. I had no clue how ordinary folks got through the days.

“Shaz says there are things limited life-forms like me aren’t supposed to know until they reach that phase of evolution. You know, he’d been really good with his diet up until then, too. I’d had him restricted to plant life. I didn’t think it was fair for him to eat another living being on Dada. They were so funny and playful and curious. They had complex societies and strong familial bonds. I asked him how he would like it if something ate him. He sank into an enormous depression for days, weeping uncontrollably, then told me with regal ire that ‘For my Yi-yi, alone, I will starve if she so demands it.’ ” I added dryly, “She so demanded it. He wasn’t starving. Shazam has enough belly fat to live off for months. But I’d never tell him that,” I added hastily. “He’s super sensitive about his appearance.”

Dancer rolled over onto his stomach, head propped on fists, eyes dancing with excitement. I was relieved to see he looked far less tired than when I’d first arrived. “Mega, I’ve got to meet him! Why didn’t you bring him back with you?”

Just like that, the shining bubble of happiness I’d blown for us popped. I closed my eyes and focused on my breath. After a long moment I said, “I’m starving. Mind if I hit up your supplies?”

When I opened my eyes, he was still in the same position, watching me with that steady, brilliant gaze. “Why did he call you Yi-yi?”

I had no intention of answering him but this was the most freely I’d spoken to anyone about my time Silverside. I was finding it increasingly difficult to say no to Dancer about anything, and my mouth said, “It was his way of saying he loved me. He used to say, ‘I see you, Yi-yi.’ ”

Dancer smiled and pushed to his feet. “What are you hungry for? I’ll nuke us some lunch.”