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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
  69. •   •   •
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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
  103. •   •   •
  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. •   •   •

But Doctor Seabury has surely seen the bodies. Some of them, anyway—a pair of sailors were shipped back to their homes up north before he might’ve gotten a look at them, but yes, come to think of it . . . he would’ve certainly seen some of the victims.

I could ask him about them. What they looked like, what carnage had actually occurred.

Not yet, of course. Not yet.

But it feels like . . . it might be worth the risk to court his friendship and confidence. Gently. Slowly. Cautiously. If I approach it carefully, he could become our greatest ally.

Our only one, if I’m to be honest.

•   •   •

Another note, recorded here so I do not forget. (And I’ll transfer these to my lab books downstairs later, when I’ve had time to think on them more thoroughly.)

Is it possible that the creatures are spreading the sickness? Could it be some strange ichor they leave in their wake, or share with their oozing skin? Is this how these creatures reproduce, by sickening a host until the host evolves into that final, disgusting state?

Maybe, but if so, you’d think that Emma or I would be well contaminated by now, unless my improvised defenses have worked better than I’ve known. All along I’ve wondered if I wasn’t wasting my energy with the folklore, the charms, the nails, the lines and symbols . . . but so far, nothing insidious has found its way inside the house; and so far, neither Emma nor myself is any sicker than we ever were, back at the Borden homestead.

Then again, that might not be fully true of Emma. But I have no way of knowing if her state is the result of the creatures and their poison, or some unfortunate, unrelated ailment. Either way, our proximity to the first bad outbreak can’t have helped her condition.

I wonder if she knows how closely I watch her, every day. Every time I brush her hair, every time I bathe her . . . I check her skin inch by inch, and I watch her weight, her shape, her eyes, for some incremental change brought about by whatever foul agent has settled into our lives.

Thus far, I’ve seen nothing but an ordinary woman, sick in an ordinary way. Daily I pray it remains so.

•   •   •

I made some offhanded comment to her about this; I told her that of course, yes, absolutely, I pray for her condition to hold steady at worst, and improve at best. I am a loving sister, after all, and what else would I pray for?

She shook her head. “Who are you praying to?”

I was taken aback. “The Lord in Heaven, same as any other God-fearing Christian.”

Wryly, she told me, “This isn’t what our library would suggest.”

“So I read about the faiths of others. Their beliefs pose no threat to my own.”