Back Maplecroft
Chapters (206)
  1. Praise for Maplecroft
  2. Title page
  3. Copyright page
  4. Contents
  5. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  6. THESE ARE THE THINGS AN EARTHQUAKE BRINGS
  7. •   •   •
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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
  30. •   •   •
  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
  57. •   •   •
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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
  69. •   •   •
  70. •   •   •
  71. Nance O’Neil
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  84. Emma L. Borden
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  88. Owen Seabury, M.D.
  89. •   •   •
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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
  103. •   •   •
  104. Gerald Macintyre, Telegraph Clerk, Western Union
  105. Owen Seabury, M.D.
  106. •   •   •
  107. Physalia, Z. University I Was Not Now
  108. •   •   •
  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
  138. •   •   •
  139. Emma L. Borden
  140. •   •   •
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  144. Owen Seabury, M.D.
  145. •   •   •
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  150. Emma L. Borden
  151. •   •   •
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  153. FAMILY SLAIN IN MAYFIELD
  154. Owen Seabury, M.D.
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  165. Lizzie Andrew Borden
  166. •   •   •
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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
  206. •   •   •

Any minute. That’s what I told myself as she languidly moved her legs up and down, not really catching the steps in order to climb them, but going through the motions through the sheer memory of her muscles. (Any minute, she’ll come to her senses. Any minute, she’ll find her footing. Any minute, and I’ll have her back.)

I slammed the cellar door, but didn’t lock it yet. I still wasn’t sure where the key was, and anyway, the damage was done.

Emma was calling for me, but I couldn’t deal with her, not quite yet. Not when I had Nance out of the basement at long last, but sprawled now upon the kitchen floor and looking like a corpse.

I slapped her again, until I was afraid I’d harm her should I hit her any harder, but I received no response. Her breathing slowed somewhat, as if distance from the cupboard had allowed her body to return to something like normalcy; but still she didn’t blink, didn’t answer, didn’t show any sign that she knew where she was or what she was doing there.

Upstairs, I heard Emma shake the bell one last time and then in frustration, she flung it into the hallway. “Lizzie!” she shrieked, though her voice was almost gone. It came out in a fierce whisper with an edge like a razor.

At a loss, I replied, “Coming!” and on the way up the stairs again, I realized I hadn’t used our secret phrase—but then again, I’d been replying from the kitchen, not the cellar.

I dragged myself up the steps to the second floor, and by the time I reached Emma’s room I could scarcely stand. I was drained and aching, and my brain wouldn’t yet stop sloshing around in my skull. Whatever Nance had given me, it’d done its job well, and it wasn’t quite finished working.

Emma was out of her bed, leaning against the tall wooden post at the foot. She asked me, “Well?”

“Nance got into the cellar,” I replied, summing up the situation.

She closed her eyes and took a slow, deep breath. “And?”