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The horses must be dead; I knew that Why weren’t we? I breathed in the stink of burning flesh, and a tiny shudder arose, somewhere deep inside me Were we alive now, only because ere doomed to die in four years? When it came our turn, would we lie in the burnt ruins of our house, shells of charred and reeking flesh?

Burnt to bones, whispered the voice of my memory Tears ran down my face with the rain, but they were distant tears--for the horses, for my mother--not for myself Not yet

There were blue veins beneath the surface of my skin, more prominent than before On the backs of my hands, they traced a roadmapin the tender flesh behinde vein swelled snakelike, distended I pressed a finger on it; it was soft and disappeared, but cas ofslowlyoutside, exposed to the ele of the body Bone and blood push throughthere was an oozing graze on the top of my foot

Jamie was back, drenched to the skin and breathless froone, I saw

"Judas is dead," he said, sitting down beside me He took my cold hand in his own cold hand and pressed it hard

"Poor thing," I said, and the tears ran faster, war with cold rain "He knew, didn’t he? He always hated thunder and lightning, always"

Jaainst his chest,noises

"And Gideon?" I asked at last, raisingan effort to wipe my nose on a fold of sodden cloak Jamie shook his head, with a small, incredulous smile

"He’s alive," he said "He’s burnt down the side of his right shoulder and foreleg and his ed off entirely" He picked up a fold of his own tattered cloak and tried to wipe my face, with no better results than I had had myself "I expect it will do wonders for his te to make a joke of it

"I suppose so" I was too worn out and shaken to laugh, but I ood "Can you lead hiood for burns"

"Aye, I think so" He gave me a hand and helped me stand up I turned to brush down

"Look," I said, my voice no more than a whisper "Ja balsa branches charred and sed between one branch and the stue, rounded mass It was half black, the tissues turned to carbon--but the hair on the other half lay in sodden white spikes, the crea up at the corpse of the bear, his mouth half open Slowly he closed it, and shook his head He turned to me, then, and looked past htning flashed silently

"They do say," he said softly, "that a great storently

"Wait here, Sassenach, while I fetch the horse We’ll go hoe

October, 1771

THE SEASON CHANGED, froone to sleep in the cool bal, and wakened in the ht to the sharp bite of autule quilt Still drowsy, she couldn’t fall sleep again, not without ed slit-eyed out of bed, padded over the icy floor to check Jeh, sunk deep into his tiny featherbed, the quilt drawn up around his s for the reassurance of the rise and fall of his breath Once, twice, once ed for an extra quilt and spread it on the bed, reached for a cup of water to ease her dry throat, and realized with a grunt of annoyance that it was e back into bed, sinking into deep, war of thirst

There was a bucket of ater by the stoop Yawning and griently down--though Jeer of waking him

Still, she opened the door with care and stepped out, shivering slightly as the cold air twitched the shift about her legs She bent and groped in the darkness No bucket Where--

She saw a flicker of movement froht it was Obadiah Henderson, sitting on the bench beside her door, and her heart clenched like a fist as he stood up Then she realized, and was in Roger’s arms before her mind could consciously sort out the details of hiainst his: the arch of his collarbone against her face, the s unwashed that they didn’t ser, but of the wood he walked through and the earth he slept upon, and th of his arm about her and the rasp of his beard on her skin The cracked cold leather of his shoes beneath her bare toes, and the shape of the bones of his feet within the "You’re home!"

"Aye, I’m home," he whispered in her ear "You’re well? Jem’s well?"

She relaxed her hold on his ribs and he srowth of thick black beard, the curve of his lips faht?" She sniffed, eyes overflowing as she looked at hi out here, for heaven’s sake? Why didn’t you knock?"

"Aye I’ht I’d sleep out here, knock in the ?"

She realized then that he wasn’t whispering froed husk, warped and breathless And yet he spoke clearly, the words unforced, without the painful hesitation he had had