“yes,” i said, backing away, still heaving with gasps of unhinged laughter. “yes, i am a witch! to you, i must be. i’ve never had smallpox, but i can walk through a room full of dying men and never catch it. i can nurse the sick and breathe their air and touch their bodies, and the sickness can’t touch me. i can’t catch cholera, either, or lockjaw, or the morbid sore throat. and you must think it’s an enchantment, because you’ve never heard of vaccine, and there’s no other way you can explain it.”
“the things i know — “ i stopped backing away and stood still, breathing heavily, trying to control myself. “i know about jonathan randall because i was told about him. i know when he was born and when he’ll die, i know about what he’s done and what he’ll do, i know about sandringham because ... because frank told me. he knew about randall because he ... he ... oh, god!” i felt as though. i might be sick, and closed my eyes to shut out the spinning stars overhead.
“and colum ... he thinks i’m a witch, because i know hamish isn’t his own son. i know ... he can’t sire children. but he thought i knew hamish’s father is ... i thought maybe it was you, but then i knew it couldn’t be and ...” i was talking faster and faster, trying to keep the vertigo at bay with the sound of my own voice.
“everything i’ve ever told you about myself was true, “i said, nodding madly as though to reassure myself. “everything. i haven’t any people, i haven’t any history, because i haven’t happened yet.”
outlander, chapter 25 #outlander#jamiefraser#samheughan#clairefraser#caitrionabalfe#dianagabaldon#muukalainen