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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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She’s changing. Turning into something piscine, or you could make the case for it. The gills she’s developed are small and unsatisfactory for oxygen, not for a creature of her stature; but they will grow if given the chance. Before long, she won’t be able to breathe air anymore. That’s my suspicion. And when that happens, what will Lizzie do? Put the damned wretch in an aquarium? Turn her loose at the ocean’s edge? Leave her in the tub, close off the washroom, and keep her as an exotic pet?

Really, I am at my wits’ end.

If it were up to me, I’d see her finished already. It’d be a kindness, and I think Seabury would agree with me there. Or perhaps he wouldn’t. He bears no specific love for the girl, but he’s fascinated by her. Quietly, he confessed to me that he does not expect her to survive any more than I do, but in seeing how she dies, we might learn how to save everyone else.

He’s a grim fellow, but I suppose he has every right to be. If the war hadn’t made him so already, surely our company would’ve done the trick.

I wish I still liked and trusted him. I want to like and trust him, but the affection isn’t there anymore—even though he now tries to confide in me, as if he has a secret large enough to trade for the one he broke.

Even so, he’s virtually all I have.

Lizzie still sees to it that I’m bathed and dressed and fed, but otherwise ignores me in favor of watching Nance struggle to breathe.

She’s torturing herself, and I can’t stop her, but I can’t help her, either. Except for my correspondents, she’s been my only companion since Father and Mrs. Borden died—and we are sisters, after all. The age difference notwithstanding, the bond should be greater than this, shouldn’t it? I should not have to grovel, should I?

If I were the sort to look on the bright side, I might smile piously and thank God for the time we’ve had together thus far, and the care with which she’s provided me. I’m fortunate for that, and also for the inheritance that would keep me convalescing in relative comfort even if she were to decide she’s done with me, and have me sent away.

But it bites. It feels like betrayal, every time she walks past my room and I call her name, and she pauses only to reply over her shoulder that she’ll check on me in a minute. I don’t always want to be checked on. Sometimes I’d only like a word, or someone with whom to confer about the matters at hand. The Problem.