Maplecroft by Cherie Priest EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
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- Author:Cherie Priest
- Language: English
- Genre: Historical Fantasy
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THESE ARE THE THINGS AN EARTHQUAKE BRINGS
Lizzie Andrew Borden
MARCH 17, 1894
No one else is allowed in the cellar.
Emma has a second key, in case I am injured or trapped down there; but
Emma also has instructions about how and when to use that key. When she
knocks upon the cellar door, I must always reply, “Emma dear, I’m nearly
finished.” Even if I’m not working on anything at all. Even if I’m simply
down there, writing in my journals. If I say anything else when she knocks,
or if I do not respond—my elder sister knows what to do: She must
summon Doctor Seabury, and then prevent him from descending into the
cellar unarmed.
I wish there were someone closer she could send for, but no one else
would come.
The good doctor, though . . . he could be persuaded to attend us, I
believe. And he’s a large man, sturdy, and in good health for a fellow of his
age. Quite a commanding presence, very much the old soldier, which is no
surprise. During the War Between the States, he served as a field surgeon—
I know that much. He must’ve been quite young, but the military training
has served him well through the years, even in such a provincial setting as
Fall River.
Yes, I think all things being equal, he’s the last and best chance either
Emma or I would have, were either of us to meet with some accident. And
between the two of us, I suppose it must be admitted—to myself, if no one
else—that accidents are more likely to befall me than her.
Ah, well. I’d take up safer hobbies if I could.
I locked the cellar door behind myself, and proceeded down the narrow
wood-slat stairs into the darkness of that half-finished pit, once intended for
vegetables, roots, or wines. I’ve paid a pretty penny to refurbish the place
so that the floor is stable and the walls are stacked with stone. During wet
weather, those stones weep buckets and the floor creaks something awful,
but by and large it’s secure enough.
Secure and quiet. Dreadfully so, as I’ve learned on occasion. I could
scream my head off down there and Emma could be reading peacefully by
the fireplace. She’d never hear a thing.
Obviously this concerns me, but what can I do? My precautions are for
the safety and well-being of us both.
Of us all.
I lit the gas fixtures as I went. All three came on with a turn of their
switches, and by the time I reached the final stair I cast a huge, long shadow
—as if I were a giant in my own laboratory.
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