Chapters (206)
- Praise for Maplecroft
- Title page
- Copyright page
- Contents
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- THESE ARE THE THINGS AN EARTHQUAKE BRINGS
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- A DOCTOR, A LAWYER, A MERCHANT, A CHIEF
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- Phillip Zollicoffer, Professor of Biology, Miskatonic University
- Lizzie Andrew Borden
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- BE SURE YOUR SINS WILL FIND YOU OUT
- • • •
- • • •
- I CROSS THE MAGPIE, THE MAGPIE CROSSES ME
- • • •
- Nance O’Neil
- THIS KNOT I KNIT, THIS KNOT I TIE
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- AND IF YOU HAVE A HORSE WITH ONE WHITE LEG . . .
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- THE WORST IS TO BE JUDGED WITHOUT HOPE
- • • •
- • • •
- Lizzie Andrew Borden
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- BUT NETTLE SHANT HAVE NOTHING
- • • •
- CUT THEM ON FRIDAY, YOU CUT THEM FOR SORROW
- Phillip Zollicoffer, Professor of Biology, Miskatonic University
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- HAPPY IS THE CORPSE THAT THE RAIN SHINES ON
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- A DWELLING PLACE OF JACKALS, THE DESOLATION FOREVER
- Lizzie Andrew Borden
- • • •
- • • •
- Nance O’Neil
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- Emma L. Borden
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- Owen Seabury, M.D.
- • • •
- • • •
- Lizzie Andrew Borden
- • • •
- RIGHT CHEEK, LEFT CHEEK—WHY DO YOU BURN?
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- Aaron B. Stewart, Fire Chief, Farthington, Mass.
- Emma L. Borden
- • • •
- Gerald Macintyre, Telegraph Clerk, Western Union
- Owen Seabury, M.D.
- • • •
- Physalia, Z. University I Was Not Now
- • • •
- DEPART, ALL ANIMALS WITHOUT BONES
- Emma L. Borden
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- Owen Seabury, M.D.
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- Lizzie Andrew Borden
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- Owen Seabury, M.D.
- Phillip Zollicoffer. Physalia Zollicoffris.
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- Christoff Dane, M.D., Ph.D., University of Rhode Island, Kingston
- • • •
- Emma L. Borden
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- Owen Seabury, M.D.
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- Emma L. Borden
- • • •
- • • •
- FAMILY SLAIN IN MAYFIELD
- Owen Seabury, M.D.
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- Lizzie Andrew Borden
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- Emma L. Borden
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- Owen Seabury, M.D.
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- Lizzie Andrew Borden
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- • • •
- Inspector Simon Wolf
- • • •
“Very good. Yes, that’s what it’s for. Now here—” She pointed at the rolled-up thing in the sheet and waved me closer. “Put it inside. Within a few hours, there’ll be nothing left but liquid, which drains out underneath the backyard. Please, help me lower it. It mustn’t splash; the contents of the cooker are highly corrosive.”
“They must be, indeed,” I agreed as I did what she asked. Sheet and all, I placed it within and resisted the urge to stir it up like a repulsive stew.
She shut the lid, set some dials, and a low, murmuring clank announced the steam was flowing and the cooker was doing its job.
Just as she went to close the cabinet door, I thought to exclaim, “Oh! But I would’ve liked to examine it, before we destroyed it. I’m in shock, I suppose. I should’ve said something sooner.”
“There wasn’t much left of it to examine, even by the time we got it to the stairs. Their soft tissue disintegrates very quickly, beginning almost as soon as they’ve stopped moving. The flesh melts down to gelatin, and the bones crumble, until they feel like pebbles in your hands. Still, I am happier to see them boiled down to nothing. At any rate,” she added wryly, “I doubt you’ll be forced to take my word for it. The odds are perilously high that you’ll meet another, if you continue to keep company here.”
“This isn’t the first?”
“No. This is the seventh, or eighth. I can’t recall right now. It’s been . . . such a day. Such a night, as the case may be.”
“Your stepmother, and your father. Is this what they were becoming?”
Softly she said, “I wish I knew for certain, but I have never—not once, in these last few years—ever doubted the course of action I took that night. They were becoming something else . . . and it wasn’t human.”
“Is that your confession?”
“Of something, yes. This has become my life’s work, Doctor Seabury—accidentally, unfortunately, but what else can I do? Surrender to what comes, and let the whole world burn?”
“Or drown,” I said, and I’m not sure why. It was a silly sentiment that sprang to mind, and I aired it.
She took it amicably enough. “Or drown, yes. These things, they have some connection with the ocean—that much is clear. The sea glass, the finned fingers and webbed toes . . .”
“Do they have such things? I didn’t see. There wasn’t time or light enough; thus I wished we’d taken a moment, before tossing it into the bath.”
“I’ll give you my notes, and you are welcome to every scrap of knowledge I’ve collected thus far. I’m afraid it isn’t much.”