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Chapters (206)
  1. Praise for Maplecroft
  2. Title page
  3. Copyright page
  4. Contents
  5. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  6. THESE ARE THE THINGS AN EARTHQUAKE BRINGS
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  12. A DOCTOR, A LAWYER, A MERCHANT, A CHIEF
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  20. Phillip Zollicoffer, Professor of Biology, Miskatonic University
  21. Lizzie Andrew Borden
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  26. BE SURE YOUR SINS WILL FIND YOU OUT
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  29. I CROSS THE MAGPIE, THE MAGPIE CROSSES ME
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  31. Nance O’Neil
  32. THIS KNOT I KNIT, THIS KNOT I TIE
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  37. AND IF YOU HAVE A HORSE WITH ONE WHITE LEG . . .
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  43. THE WORST IS TO BE JUDGED WITHOUT HOPE
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  46. Lizzie Andrew Borden
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  53. BUT NETTLE SHANT HAVE NOTHING
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  55. CUT THEM ON FRIDAY, YOU CUT THEM FOR SORROW
  56. Phillip Zollicoffer, Professor of Biology, Miskatonic University
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  62. HAPPY IS THE CORPSE THAT THE RAIN SHINES ON
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  67. A DWELLING PLACE OF JACKALS, THE DESOLATION FOREVER
  68. Lizzie Andrew Borden
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  71. Nance O’Neil
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  84. Emma L. Borden
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  88. Owen Seabury, M.D.
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  91. Lizzie Andrew Borden
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  93. RIGHT CHEEK, LEFT CHEEK—WHY DO YOU BURN?
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  101. Aaron B. Stewart, Fire Chief, Farthington, Mass.
  102. Emma L. Borden
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  104. Gerald Macintyre, Telegraph Clerk, Western Union
  105. Owen Seabury, M.D.
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  107. Physalia, Z. University I Was Not Now
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  109. DEPART, ALL ANIMALS WITHOUT BONES
  110. Emma L. Borden
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  115. Owen Seabury, M.D.
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  119. Lizzie Andrew Borden
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  130. Owen Seabury, M.D.
  131. Phillip Zollicoffer. Physalia Zollicoffris.
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  137. Christoff Dane, M.D., Ph.D., University of Rhode Island, Kingston
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  139. Emma L. Borden
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  144. Owen Seabury, M.D.
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  150. Emma L. Borden
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  153. FAMILY SLAIN IN MAYFIELD
  154. Owen Seabury, M.D.
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  165. Lizzie Andrew Borden
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  176. Emma L. Borden
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  186. Owen Seabury, M.D.
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  197. Lizzie Andrew Borden
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  205. Inspector Simon Wolf
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Traipse upstairs like the scandalous fools you are, get it out of your blood, and then get that girl out of our house. We have real problems here, and a real solution in sight—or at the very least, we have a real chance at an ally, and a shared wealth of added information. We can’t jeopardize it over a silly fluttering of the heart.

•   •   •

I pretended I didn’t notice, but just now Nance came downstairs. I don’t know what she wanted, and I didn’t ask. She made a show of getting a glass from the kitchen, collecting some water, and retreating again.

But she’s up to something.

She’s drawn to that damn cellar door, and drawn to what’s behind it. That part she can’t help; I know that, and I can’t even hold it against her. But we have to keep her out, and I am absolutely terrified that Lizzie is on the verge of some terrible decision, or terrible slip of her concentration, and we might all be lost.

What if Nance finds her way to the key, or to some other method of opening the door? It’s reinforced, yes. The lock is sturdy and expensive, yes.

But whatever is in those stones, those shiny bits of tumbled ocean glass (or so they innocuously appear) . . . it has an intelligence. Whatever voice cries through them, it cries not with words—yet it cries instructions, suggestions, and changes to a person’s ordinary behavior.

It commands.

That’s the word I’m looking for.

It commands, and it commands so forcefully that I must assume anyone snared in its call will find a way around whatever restrictions are tossed in front of her.

•   •   •

I caught Nance rifling through drawers, and she said she was hunting a pair of scissors. I directed her to the sewing room. I spied her examining the contents of Father’s old cabinet, and she said she was hoping for something hard to add to her tea. I said she should help herself. I found her fishing about under the settee, and she insisted she’d dropped an earring. I wished her the best of luck in its retrieval.

Really, she must think I’m a fool.

If she stays here much longer, she’ll find her way downstairs, and what will become of us then? What if she sees the whole lot of equipment, never mind what we added from the upstairs—the most incriminating books, charms, devices, and whatnot that we wished to remove from her view?

From a certain slant, it would appear that my sister and I are the witches we’re accused of being.