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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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I shouldn’t have bothered to visit the late, lamented Mrs. Easley. I’d known already what I would find, and I contributed nothing to the conversation as to her demise. It would’ve served no purpose to tell the young officers that she’d been driven mad and committed suicide because there was a monster who had been transformed by something pulled from the ocean last year. It would’ve done nothing to help, if I’d added that the monster was on his way, and the nearer he drew, the more events like this we ought to expect.

On the other hand, he’s almost made it to town—and the worst he can do is kill us all, and then it’d all be over.

I laughed at the thought. Alone in my cluttered, increasingly musty, and foul-smelling parlor, I laughed out loud and then sobered quickly, because laughing aloud, alone, in dirty rooms is what madmen do. I had this much awareness about me, still. I thought of my scissors, and then I wondered where my scissors were located in this jumbled wreck of a house. Couldn’t think of where they might be. At first I was angry with myself, for having allowed my living circumstances to come to this. But then I found this thought reassuring, for if I couldn’t find them, then I couldn’t stab myself in the eyes, now could I?

You see? Madness, creeping in around the edges.

So soft, so subtle, that it goes unnoticed until you try to speak the process aloud. For now, when I hear my own words pronounced in my own voice, I recognize the insanity for what it surely is. For now, I am able to draw myself back from that precipice.

“I was angry because I did not know where I had placed my scissors, because I might need them. I might be required to stab myself in the eyes.”

I suppose the next step will be more difficult. Next, I will need to hear someone else speak aloud before I recognize how strange I have become. I need to spend more time at Maplecroft. I need to visit with the ladies there, for they are the only ones who will know when I go mad—and who will know the difference between confused and afflicted, and gone beyond all hope of retrieval.

Or perhaps I ought to avoid them altogether. At this rate, I do not know how much longer I will be a help to them, and how soon the transition might make me a danger to them.

•   •   •

Ah, you see? I just read that last short paragraph aloud, and it made sense. I am still here. I am still sane. I am still a knight of this place, this town, that house. Not prisoner, but sentry. Though I didn’t do much to preserve or protect Nance.

Since we lost her, and all.

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