The Blood Binding by Helen Stringer Read Free Book Online

spirits they were
trying to bind. What if they made it worse and released them by mistake? She
kept wishing that Miss Parker was around. But then maybe she’d say the same
thing as Mrs. Jay—that some things can’t be fixed.
    That was probably true, but
Belladonna couldn’t help feeling that the least a person could do was try.

 
     
    The next morning was overcast
but dry, and really cold. Belladonna bundled up, wore two pairs of socks,
sturdy boots, carefully packed the potion into her pink backpack and headed out
to the bus stop. Steve was already there, wearing a combat jacket over his
hoody, though his hair looked like it hadn’t seen a comb in weeks and there
were dark circles under his eyes.
    “Did you get any sleep at all?”
asked Belladonna.
    “Not much. There was some
zombie movie on when my dad and me got home, so we watched it. I think I got
about two hours.”
    Belladonna rolled her eyes
and was about to say something about taking things seriously, when the bus
arrived. She had expected it to be full of people with the kind of miserable
expressions almost exclusive to those who have to get up on a Saturday to go to
work, but everyone seemed remarkably cheerful. They were chatting to each other
and pointing out landmarks and scenery and generally having a good time. There
were no empty seats left, though, so she and Steve had to stand.
    At the next stop a man with
what seemed to be a heavy case got on. He hesitated near the front, gave
Belladonna and Steve a funny look, then inched past them and sat down.
    In a seat occupied by someone
else.
    Belladonna stared as the
ghost rolled its eyes and stood up. Two other ghosts made room on their seat
and the displaced phantom squeezed in.
    “Are they all…,” whispered
Steve. “I mean…except that guy, obviously… but are they all…dead?”
    “I…guess,” said Belladonna.
    They watched in silence for
the next two stops as some ghosts got off and others got on.
    “You’ve been seeing them
longer than I have,” said Steve, finally. “Have you ever seen this many in one
place?”
    “Never.”
    They got off at Staple Street, crossed the road and waited for the number 61 bus.
    “They’re everywhere,” said
Belladonna. “Look over there.”
    Staple Street was a busy
shopping street and there were plenty of people walking up and down and in and
out of shops, but for every living person, there seemed to be two or three
ghosts.
    “Is this because it’s
Halloween?” said Steve.
    “I suppose. But I’ve never
seen this before.”
    “Well, Elsie said they didn’t
celebrate last year. How long have you been able to see them?”
    “About three years.”
    “Were your parents…I
mean…were they…you know…when…”
    “Yes,” said Belladonna,
smiling at Steve’s efforts to avoid using the words “alive” or “dead.”
    “So that would explain it,
wouldn’t it? I mean you’d be at home with them.”
    “It started sort of
gradually. I couldn’t see all the ghosts at first, just a few. So I probably
wouldn’t have noticed. And sometimes it’s really hard to tell who’s alive and
who’s dead.”
    “That’s the really weird
part,” said Steve, as the 61 bus pulled up. “You’d think it would be obvious.”
    The second bus wasn’t as
crowded, though there was an Elizabethan lady with a Victorian gentleman
sitting together near the back.
    Belladonna and Steve got off
in Grafton village, which was quite pretty and featured large helpful signs
directing them to the Roman fort. After a fifteen minute walk they arrived in
the parking lot and stopped. There were ghosts wandering all over the ruins,
some looked like Roman soldiers, visiting their old workplace, while others
were from all sorts of different periods in history and seemed to be tourists.
The whole effect was like a costume party.
    “D’you think they’ll notice?”
    “I don’t know,” said
Belladonna. “I don’t suppose it matters…”
    “No,” said Steve. “Are