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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
  30. •   •   •
  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
  57. •   •   •
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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
  69. •   •   •
  70. •   •   •
  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
  138. •   •   •
  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
  206. •   •   •

Crawling around the house like spiders, their spindly white hands clutching at the windowsills, the stairs, the bricks, the shrubs. Tramping on the roses, marching through the bushes. I saw half a dozen at a hasty count, but there must have been more around the rear of the house, or the sides we could not see. They were battering the place, but not entering it . . . as if some strange boundary or supernatural order prevented them.

•   •   •

One by one they looked away from the house, and they stared at us with hateful, hungry eyes that were pale and white. Fish eyes. Watery eyes. Eyes with hate, but not intelligence—not the clever, conniving eyes of a cephalopod, or the serious squint of a seal. These eyes were cold and flat like a shark’s, but that is unfair. A shark’s eyes were only black and hungry. They were not shrouded, and full of malice.

One by one the creatures peeled themselves away from the mansion, their attention drawn to us. Moths, and we were the flame. All but two, who remained at the front door on all fours, padding back and forth, their backs arched and their fingers pointed, they slathered and stalked.

The front door was open. It took me a few seconds to notice. It was open, but still they paced before it, unable or unwilling to enter.

I was confident that I had closed and locked the door behind me. It was the last sane, deliberate act I performed before leaving the house, in fierce pursuit of the younger Borden sister—leaving the elder one behind. Therefore, something or someone had opened it. Something or someone had gone inside, for surely Emma lacked the strength or the stupidity to leave it ajar.

“Lizzie,” I breathed, drawing up to a halt.

She slowed to a sure-footed walk but did not stop. She adjusted her axe, twisting it back and forth between her hands. She said, “Stay with me.”

Stay with her? I supposed there wasn’t much choice.

She was armed and I was not—though I spent a frantic moment wondering if I shouldn’t take the axe away from her and wield it myself. But no, that would not do, if for no other reason than that I probably couldn’t. She might not leave me my hands. Or my life.

She was as single-minded as the creatures that stalked her porch.

I stayed close behind her as commanded, but I remained far enough back that she was unlikely to strike me—which was good, because the first creature reached her and she whipped the axe around, catching it in the head. Splitting it like a melon. Not even looking at it, not even checking to see if it was down and would stay that way . . . she moved onward, keeping her eyes on the front door.