The Blood Binding Read Online Free PDF Page B

everyone?” asked
Belladonna.
    “Getting ready for
Halloween,” said Elsie. “Come on, she’s in the garden.”
    She led they way out of the
huge doors, across the pillared portico, and down to the garden that had so
impressed Belladonna the first time she saw it, with its lawns and arbors,
interlocking flower beds and meandering paths. It had been beautiful then, even
though everything had been dead, but now it was simply glorious, the flowers
and foliage cascading over each other in a riot of color and fragrance.
    Elsie walked to the small
pavilion in the center of the garden and tapped on the side of the open door.
    “Hello?” she called,
cautiously.
    “Just a moment! I’m thinning
a seedbox!” The voice was slightly husky and ridiculously posh, like people in
old movies.
    “I bet she’s got secateurs,”
whispered Steve.
    “Shh!”
    “Ah, well now! What can I do
for you?”
    Even though Belladonna knew
that the dead could choose to be any age they wanted, for some reason she had
still been expecting a ninety year old woman. But the girl who stepped out into
the sunlight was young and hearty, her cheeks flushed pink from working. She
was wearing an elegant pale blue and white striped crinoline dress, but had
hoisted the hem nearly up to her knees with yellow drawstrings knotted at her
waist. On her feet were a pair of high button boots, somewhat muddy from
working in the beds, while elegant gardening gloves protected her hands.
    “Hello, Miss Jekyll,” said
Belladonna, shaking her hand.
    “It’s pronounced Jeekle,
actually, but please just call me Gertrude.”
    “Really?” said Steve. “But
what about ‘Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde?’”
    “That is supposed to be
pronounced Jeekle too, dear. Robert Louis Stevenson was a friend of my
brother’s, you see. So…young Elsie, here, tells me you’re looking for a plant.”
    “Yes,” said Belladonna,
pleased that she wasn’t going to have to explain the whole thing again. “It’s
called…um…hang on…”
    She retrieved the list from
her pocket and handed it to Gertrude.
    “My goodness,” she said.
“What appalling handwriting you have. Don’t they teach copperplate any more?”
    “No,” said Steve. “They’re
mostly pleased if we can string a few sentences together without saying ‘axe,
‘like,’ or ‘y’know.’”
    “Dear me. You’ll be telling
me we’ve lost the Empire, next.”
    “Well, actually--” began
Steve.
    “It’s the last one,” said
Belladonna, hastily, digging Steve in the ribs.
    “Laserpiciferis,” read
Gertrude. “Well, I’ve heard of it, of course, but it was extinct well before my
time. Let’s ask Seneca, he’s up at the house.”
    “Really?” said Steve. “I
thought everyone was getting ready for these parties we’ve been hearing so much
about.”
    “Stoic philosophers don’t go
to parties, dear. Come along!”
    She grabbed a large sun hat
from a chair near the door, tied the ribbons under her chin, and marched back
toward the house with Belladonna, Steve and Elsie running to catch up.
    She finally stopped in the
middle of the rotunda, and yelled: “Seneca!”
    No reply.
    “Come along, Seneca, I know
you’re here! It’s Gertrude!”
    A door creaked open near the
stairs and a sour-faced man peered out.
    “I don’t care who it is. I’m
not going to any blasted parties!”
    “We’re not trying to get you
to go to a party, dear, we just want to know what a plant looked like.”
    “What plant?”
    “ Laserpiciferis ,” said Belladonna.
    “Are you alive?” asked
Seneca, looking her up and down.
    “Yes.”
    “Well, it’s extinct.”
    “We know that,” said Steve.
“We just want to know what it looked like.”
    “Humph,” growled Seneca.
“Wait here.”
    The door closed with a click
that was followed by the sound of rummaging and things falling off shelves.
Then, just as Belladonna had decided he wasn’t going to come back, the door
creaked open again and Seneca thrust an unrolled