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Perilous Plants 6


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#1 Laufey

Posted 10 January 2005 - 06:38 PM

Chapter 6

I've given you southern exposure
To get you to thrive.
I've pinched you back hard,
Like I'm s'posed ta.
You're barely alive.
I've tried you at levels of moisture
From desert to mud.
I've given you grow-lights
And mineral supplements.
What do you want from me- Blood?

‘Grow For Me’, Little Shop Of Horrors


While Edwin was explaining his attempts at genetic duplication to Edwin 3, his tutor had a worrying experience of his own. Dekaras was down in the garden and his mood as he watched his employer cooing and clucking over Elvira 2 like a hen over its chicks was very dark indeed.

"Oh, would you look at that!" Galen gushed, stroking the ugly plant. "Look at Daddy's good girl…she's almost twice as big as yesterday, isn't it marvellous?"

"It certainly is unexpected," Dekaras said, glaring at the plant. Elvira 2 poked a few tendrils out past her fleshy petals, almost looking as if she was laughing him in the face. In a sense it was good that the thing was growing of course, it wasn't as if he particularly wanted to be forced into Rory Ravonar's service, and a healthy, vigorous Elvira 2 should make it easier to avoid such a dreadful fate. However, he still didn't like the plant, nor did he trust it one bit after its attack on Edwin. In fact, that attack made him have some very nasty suspicions about the reason for the sudden growth spurt. "If I may be so bold as to ask, Master…did you water this thing late last night, after dinner? Or perhaps give it some plant food, or cast a spell on it?"

Galen blinked. "Why…no. Though now that you mention it, I'm sure some applied magic would be very helpful! Thank you so much for suggesting it, I will go and look some things up at once!" He rushed off, his robes flapping against his legs and his hair sticking out in all directions.

Dekaras sighed quietly. He hoped his employer wouldn't manage to do too much damage with his magic - not that there was a high risk of that. Anyway, he didn't really think that it was magic as such that had caused the unnatural sudden growth. Not when there was another, more sinister source of nourishment that he knew for certain that Elvira 2 had been supplied with. Blood. That…thing…may not have managed to do Edwin any serious harm, but it did manage to draw blood. And then, it grew. Given that there is no other obvious cause, the connection seems a likely one. What to do about it though? Keep Edwin far away from the thing, of course, as much as possible. But apart from that? I wonder…yes, some applied gardening seems to be prudent here. I think I know just the thing to do, too.

About twenty minutes later, any casual onlooker who had wandered into the Odesseiron gardens would have been treated to an unusual sight. Granted, a man carrying a watering pail isn’t all that unusual in a garden. But this particular tall man in black didn’t look much like your regular gardener. Nor did he seem particularly fond of the writhing plant on the ground in front of him, judging from the evil glare he aimed at it. And then there was the matter of what was inside the watering pail…

“Come on out, boy,” Dekaras said, not turning around. He had heard the little noises in the bushes behind him for a minute or two now, and thought it best to acknowledge them. Otherwise, Edwin would only get overexcited and likely get himself into trouble. “You can help me, if you like, as long as you do exactly as I say.”

“I can?” Edwin eagerly said, popping his head out from behind a hedge. “What are you doing? Are you watering Father’s plant? You shouldn’t have to do that, that’s the gardener’s job, isn’t it? Is that blood you’re feeding it? Did you kill somebody just to get it?”

“To answer your questions,” the assassin replied, still not taking his eyes off Elvira 2, which was snarling and hissing as it devoured the blood. “Yes, I am watering it. No, I don’t have to do that, but I prefer to take an active hand in matters concerning my own welfare. Yes, it is blood, and no, of course I didn’t kill a person simply in order to get it. It comes from the pig.”

“What pig?”

“The pig you will be having for dinner tonight, along with gravy and roast plums I believe. Pigs are fairly close to humans in terms of anatomy – hopefully it will be close enough.”

“Oh…” Edwin said, looking a little dejected. “Poor pig. I wish it could have been some mean person instead. Somebody pig-like.”

“Edwin, there are many reasons why you may want to kill somebody, but believe me when I say that using them for plant food is not one that I approve of. Now try to curb your bloodlust a little and help me tilt this thing – but mind that you stay well back from the plant.” As the boy approached, Dekaras watched carefully to make certain Edwin was out of Elvira 2’s reach, and it wasn’t until they were almost done that he felt able to relax enough to pay attention to other matters. “Edwin? What happened to your face?”

The boy’s hand immediately rose to touch his black eye, and he looked suddenly very guilty about something. “Oh…this? Er…nothing! Nothing at all!”

“Did somebody hit you?” the assassin asked, and his voice took on the dangerous note that made grown men try to remember if they had updated their wills recently. “Who was it? Tell me, and I will be only too happy to deal with them.”

“Nobody, really, I promise!” Edwin hastily said. “I mean, I did it myself. Really!”

“Hmmm…” Dekaras said. He could usually tell exactly when Edwin was lying, and he didn’t get quite that sense right now. And yet, he also felt certain that the boy hadn’t told him the entire truth. Clearly he is up to something. I will have to find out exactly what, but it must wait for later. For now, let him believe that he has got away with it. “Very well,” he simply said. “I will take your word for it. I hope you will not disappoint me.” The way the boy squirmed at that was very telling indeed. Yes, definitely up to something. Perhaps I should search his room later, to make certain he isn’t attempting to hatch basilisks under his bed again…

-*-

Not long after the assassin and they boy had left the garden, Elvira 2 got her next visitor. Her namesake stood watching the plant for a little while, her painted lips twisted into a contemptuous sneer. “I will aid you for now, weed,” Elvira said a in a low voice. “And if you know what is good for you, then you will grow healthy and strong, and you will win my husband’s foolish bet for him. If you do not…why, then I believe I will want a nice, hot fire in my bedroom, to cheer me up, and I will be searching these gardens for fuel. Do we understand each other?”

Elvira 2 hissed a little, tendrils writhing angrily. “Good,” Elvira said, and her smile was completely without mirth. “Then you may have what you want.” She spoke a few arcane syllables, threw a small scrap of raw meat on the ground, and made some gestures over it. After a few seconds, a dark fluid began to seep from the meat, gushing towards the plant. Dependable old Seeping Blood spell, Elvira thought. When was it I last used that one…oh yes. When I wanted to terrorize Aunt Devanna into terminating her Solstice visit early. Better hope my darling baby never learns it, or he’d probably ruin all the carpets. She watched for a few moments, until the stream of blood dried up, and then she nodded to herself, feeling satisfied. “Remember what I told you,” she coldly informed Elvira 2. “I will hold you to it.” Then she left, still smiling. Whoever said that talking to plants helped them grow, might actually be onto something.

After Elvira had left, there were a few moments of silence. Then, a small boy, with dark hair and a big bruise covering his left eye, peeped out from behind a hedge. “Wow…” he whispered. “That is so great…I bet I can do it too, and then I will be the one who’ll make sure Teacher Dekaras gets to stay here. And I’ll be Edwin 1 too, as I should be, since I’m obviously the better of us.” He ran off again, heading for the kitchen. There’d be bound to be some meat around there.

Galen Odesseiron arrived about ten minutes later, huffing and puffing with exertion since he was dragging a large wheelbarrow. He stopped in front of Elvira 2, and smiled broadly as he wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his robe and smoothed his disorderly brown hair back. “I’m back, little one!” he gushed. “Daddy’s got some very special stuff, for his very special little girl…just you wait!” From the wheelbarrow, he took a large cage, one containing about a dozen very nervous pixies. “Now then,” Galen told them. “Sing as nicely as you can, and I will let you out afterwards.” The pixies sang, a piping, screeching little song. After a little while, Elvira 2 began to nod and sway in time with the music. “Oh yes, very good!” Galen said, beaming at the plant. “Dance for Daddy, that’s a good girl!” Once he was satisfied, he opened the cage, and walked off, whistling cheerfully. The confused pixies fluttered about for a while, uncertain about where to go. Before they had the time to fly off, a shadow loomed above them. There was a swift movement, and several brief squeals, and then silence. Elvira 2 let her tendrils slowly stroke her fleshy petals, wiping away a small bit of pixie wing that was stuck to them. She was humming softly to herself – and she was growing.

Edwin spent the afternoon with his two clones. He had sometimes wondered what it would be like to have a brother or sister – why, he had even wished for a little brother or sister as a Solstice present more than once, but still not received one. Now he was rapidly reaching the conclusion that if the potential sibling was going to be anything like the clones, then he’d much rather be an only child. Edwin 2 and Edwin 3 were so incredibly annoying that he wanted to make them disappear back to wherever they had come from, and never see them again. They were so…so loudmouthed! And they kept boasting all the time, and they seemed to think they knew everything about everything, even when it was obvious they didn’t. Edwin sighed. There must have been something wrong with the spell. Those two are nothing like me. He desperately tried to calculate how long the spell might last, but this was made a little difficult by Edwin 2 loudly reciting all his many splendid accomplishments, including a long list of difficult spells. Edwin was sure his counterpart had to be lying about those. After all, he didn’t know Powerword Kill, and so it was absolutely impossible that this inferior replica of him might. And Edwin 3 wasn’t any better. He was currently explaining how he had spotted their father instructing Elvira 2 in music, and suggesting that all three Edwins should go out and try the same. “Or perhaps only me,” Edwin 3 said. “After all, I have a perfect singing voice, unlike you lot, I’m sure. You would probably only make her wither.”

“Go ahead and try it,” Edwin said, glaring at his clone. “I think you should stick your stupid head right close to her too, so she can hear you properly.” And with any luck she’d bite it off, and I’d be rid of him. At least the copies had agreed that three Edwins were enough, and that they shouldn’t make any more for the moment.

“Don’t listen to him,” Edwin 2 said, once again with that annoying little smirk. “He is only trying to trick you. That is really so path…pathet…pethi…stupid. Which probably explains why Edwin 1 thinks anybody would fall for it. He thinks everybody is as simple as he is.”

“I am not simple!” Edwin angrily protested. His eyes were fixed on the pearly white teeth of his antagonist, and although he remembered what his teacher had said earlier, he still felt tempted to try to collect some. Even if the Tooth Fairy won’t take them, at least it would serve him right. “I’m the original around here, and you are just the stupid copy!”

“Ha! I’m the refined Edwin, so there! You are only the rough first draft!”

“You are both hopeless,” Edwin 3 calmly remarked. He was lying on top of Edwin’s bed, his foot resting against his knee, and it was swaying gently back and forth in time with some music only he could hear. “You don’t understand music at all. And you’re both ugly, just look at you with those black eyes of yours. Now, I on the other hand have a perfect face. Should be easy enough for our parents to choose which one of us to keep…”

“Maybe I’ll just remodel that so-called perfect face for you!” Edwin snarled, thoroughly enraged with the casual arrogance of the simulacrum.

“There won’t be enough of you left to keep in a shoe box!” Edwin 2 simultaneously stated, and then pandemonium was well under way, as all three boys came together in a hissing, spitting, clawing and biting ball of fury. Edwin managed to get out of it relatively unscathed this time, except for a few minor scratches, but Edwin 3 was less lucky.

“By dose!” he wailed, tears streaming down his face and mixing with the blood gushing out of his nose. “I thidk you broke by dose!”

“Serves you right,” Edwin 2 muttered. He was lying curled up on the floor, rubbing his tender ribs.

“And don’t be such a baby,” Edwin chimed in. “It’s not broken, it’s only a nosebleed. Can’t you at least pinch your nose shut; you’re bleeding all over my stuff! Look at poor Mr Bobo, he’s getting all sticky!” The unfortunate toy bear was looking from one Edwin to the next, its head whirring with the strain of trying to figure out who was its real owner. Being bled on didn’t seem to help him much. “Oh, take this,” Edwin eventually said, handing the simulacrum one of his nightshirts. “Press it against your nose until the bleeding stops. And don’t let Mother find it afterwards, you know what she gets like if we get our clothes dirty.”

“She’ll get really mad at you,” Edwin 2 said, sounding very pleased about the prospect. “I’d like to watch that. You’d deserve it too, for pulling my hair like you did.”

Edwin 3 sniffled a little longer, but eventually he calmed down. “You’re both bean,” he sulked. Since this was met only with looks of complete bafflement, and not with the sympathy and contrition he thought was his due, he sighed loudly, looking very petulant. “What do we do dow?”

“Well,” Edwin began, “I think we should…” Then he suddenly gulped, feeling an icy shiver run down his back. He had heard footsteps approaching the bedroom door…coming closer. Not just any footsteps either. They were firm and decisive, and utterly unmistakable. “It’s Mother! Hide!”
Rogues do it from behind.




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