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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“No!” she cried, and bless the poor woman, she tried to put herself between us. “You don’t understand . . .”
And that was an understatement, wasn’t it? But I was in the fray already, and there was no time to pause or regroup, not when the monster slathered and grimaced, seizing me and wrestling with me—grappling with its iron-hard fingers, crushing at my ribs and my arms, pushing against my belly in blows that would’ve stunned a seasoned boxer—blows that stole my breath and left me winded.
I am growing older, a fact that I do not contest or bemoan—but I am still a large man, and a strong one, too. No seasoned boxer, but well able to withstand a beating should one be delivered, or so I’ve told myself all these years.
So I stood against the thing, though its hands wandered and hit with such astonishing rapidity that even in the bright light of day, its motions would have seemed a blur. I was shocked, but not incapable of blocking and protecting myself with my arms; all my thoughts of assault having folded back in upon themselves, collapsing into the more immediate task of defense.
“It’s the iron,” Lizbeth wheezed. “Our bodies won’t stop them, but the iron . . .”
I did not see her, because I did not dare raise my head. I now bore the full brunt of the creature’s attention, and I would’ve told my companion to run for safety—if it would’ve mattered in the slightest. I’d interrupted her, and perhaps complicated her plans; except that no, she’d faltered and missed with her axe. I must have been some help, surely?
But not in that moment.
No, it was all her . . . when I heard the slice of the axe splitting the fog as neatly as a razor, and when the weapon came striking down—a vicious blow that took the creature in the shoulder, cutting past the collarbone and down into the lungs, if the thing had lungs at all.
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(There was no time to examine it more fully, but I’ll come around to that. I feel like I’m saying this too much, about too many things at once, but what can I do? There are too many things to say, so I must say them here and now, or remind myself to say them later. This is all I can do, and in this way I hope I’ll come around to everything, in time.)
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The creature stumbled forward and released me even as it crashed into me, knocking me backward and to the ground, where it jerked atop me, clawing at me—or clawing for purchase on the ground, I can’t say which. It flailed and seized, and I lifted one leg and used all my weight, and the weight of my boot, to leverage it away in a mighty kick.