Chapters (206)
- Praise for Maplecroft
- Title page
- Copyright page
- Contents
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- THESE ARE THE THINGS AN EARTHQUAKE BRINGS
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- A DOCTOR, A LAWYER, A MERCHANT, A CHIEF
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- Phillip Zollicoffer, Professor of Biology, Miskatonic University
- Lizzie Andrew Borden
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- BE SURE YOUR SINS WILL FIND YOU OUT
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- I CROSS THE MAGPIE, THE MAGPIE CROSSES ME
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- Nance O’Neil
- THIS KNOT I KNIT, THIS KNOT I TIE
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- AND IF YOU HAVE A HORSE WITH ONE WHITE LEG . . .
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- THE WORST IS TO BE JUDGED WITHOUT HOPE
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- Lizzie Andrew Borden
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- BUT NETTLE SHANT HAVE NOTHING
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- CUT THEM ON FRIDAY, YOU CUT THEM FOR SORROW
- Phillip Zollicoffer, Professor of Biology, Miskatonic University
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- HAPPY IS THE CORPSE THAT THE RAIN SHINES ON
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- A DWELLING PLACE OF JACKALS, THE DESOLATION FOREVER
- Lizzie Andrew Borden
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- Nance O’Neil
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- Emma L. Borden
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- Owen Seabury, M.D.
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- Lizzie Andrew Borden
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- RIGHT CHEEK, LEFT CHEEK—WHY DO YOU BURN?
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- Aaron B. Stewart, Fire Chief, Farthington, Mass.
- Emma L. Borden
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- Gerald Macintyre, Telegraph Clerk, Western Union
- Owen Seabury, M.D.
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- Physalia, Z. University I Was Not Now
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- DEPART, ALL ANIMALS WITHOUT BONES
- Emma L. Borden
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- Owen Seabury, M.D.
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- Lizzie Andrew Borden
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- Owen Seabury, M.D.
- Phillip Zollicoffer. Physalia Zollicoffris.
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- Christoff Dane, M.D., Ph.D., University of Rhode Island, Kingston
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- Emma L. Borden
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- Owen Seabury, M.D.
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- Emma L. Borden
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- FAMILY SLAIN IN MAYFIELD
- Owen Seabury, M.D.
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- Lizzie Andrew Borden
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- Emma L. Borden
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- Owen Seabury, M.D.
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- Lizzie Andrew Borden
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- Inspector Simon Wolf
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I went back inside, where Emma had successfully come downstairs by herself. I didn’t take the time to be surprised; her energy came and went. Some days were better than others, and under different circumstances, we’d celebrate her vigor with a glass of port—but I could only work with the spirits at hand, so there’d be no port.
“Brandy, maybe,” I said aloud, as I dropped to the floor beside Nance, who hadn’t moved.
Emma, ever to her credit, recognized my train of thought—or at least predicted its destination. “I’ll open Father’s cabinet, and find a clean glass.”
I didn’t really expect it to work, but it gave us both something to do.
I man-hauled Nance to the parlor settee and deposited her there, and soon Emma arrived with a decanter and a small glass. My hands shook as I filled it, and as I lifted Nance’s head in an effort to make her drink.
Much like her cooperative walking and stair climbing, she agreeably sipped the beverage and swallowed it. I hadn’t expected it, but I was relieved at this one small thing at least—she could drink, and presumably eat, and wasn’t quite so lost to the world that she might die of starvation.
And that’s preposterous, isn’t it? Starvation isn’t any real concern. If Nance is to die from this, it will almost certainly be at my hand. Whatever this illness is—be it infection, or some other form of affliction—it does not kill. It transforms, and inspires the victim to kill instead. They must be put down like rabid dogs, for the safety of everyone around them.
So already, kneeling on the floor beside her, with her lovely neck resting against my forearm as I propped her head into a drinking position, I was thinking ahead and planning for the worst.
“It might be,” Emma began softly, “she’s only stunned. You’ve been there yourself, and you’ve come back around again.”
“Not like this,” I said, and I would’ve sobbed if I hadn’t been all cried out for the moment. My eyes were sore from it. “I’ve never been this far gone.”
“She may need a little time, and that’s all. Give her overnight, and she may surprise you. Look, even now her breathing is calmed. It’s practically normal.”
She was right, but I didn’t dare believe that it was so simple as that. “Doctor Seabury may know of some treatment to help awaken her. He’s been working with . . .” I stopped myself. The only patients I knew who’d suffered anything like this had murdered, and then been killed.
“He’s a brilliant man, and he may have ideas. He may see patterns that have eluded us thus far.”