He took the stone from its cloth, turning it over between his fingers, and looked thoughtfully at me, as though making up his mind whether to tell me something. Small hairs began to prickle on the back of my neck. “I dinna ken,” he said at last, shaking his head. “But I’ve seen ye there.” The prickling ran straight down the back of my neck and down both arms. “Seen me where?” “There.” He waved a hand in a vague gesture. “I dreamt of ye there. I dinna ken where it was; I only know it was there—in your proper time.” “How do you know that?” I demanded, my flesh creeping briskly. “What was I
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My brain, my body, my soul are all so ready for this. So. Goddamn. Ready.
