Cogling Read Free Page B

copper hair; since tomtars only grew hair in patches, the hat helped hide his bald spots. She’d seen the bald spots once, speckled with black moles like his face and hands. Despite his grotesque features, he never seemed to think he was ugly, and only hid his talons.
    “Mornin’, Miss Mather. Lovely day, ain’t it?” The stench of sage and earth wafted from his leathery skin, a dark tan that reminded her of caramel.
    She glanced at the gathering gray clouds, a downpour. “Lovely,” she echoed. Contradicting him might make his grin fade, and she loved how his smiles made his dark eyes glow.
    The tomtar swung open the gate. “Mornin’, Harrison.”
    Her brother didn’t answer. A shiver coursed along Edna’s spine, and she tugged her coat closer around her shoulders. Even though humans considered themselves better than tomtar slaves did, she wanted to make sure Harrison was polite. “You don’t have to be rude just because you don’t feel well. Since when do you pass up an opportunity to talk?”
    Harrison allowed her to lead him around the garden to the servant’s entrance, through the hallway to the dressing room, and stood in the corner until she threw him his uniform. At least she didn’t have to force him into the blouse and slacks.
    “Bloody luck, Harry-boy. It’s like you’ve never been here before!” Edna buttoned the front of her white blouse and stepped into her brown skirt, tying the apron overtop. So long as she kept her gloves clean, Lord Waxman allowed her to wear them. She set her dress on her hook, and hung Harrison’s discarded clothes behind it when he still didn’t move. She ground her teeth. Yelling at him wouldn’t help, especially if he felt ill.
    “Go find Teddy. The butler,” she added when Harrison stared with blank eyes. “He’ll tell you what to do today. Scamper before you’re late and get a walloping.”
    Harrison marched down the hallway. Edna wished she didn’t have to always take care of him. For once, she’d like to be his sister instead of his substitute mother.
    “I swear to the king,” Edna exclaimed when she entered the kitchen. “Harrison’s cute, but he needs to grow up. Today he’s acting like he can’t even tie his shoes right.”
    Chopped vegetables covered the table. Edna licked her lips. The engineered vegetables her family ate tasted like iron and copper. Only the smells matched real food. She longed to crunch on a cucumber fresh from the Waxman garden, but she only snuck leftovers when the cook was going to toss them in the garbage. Even though they tasted delectable, she didn’t want to risk being fired. In the cities, only the wealthy had the luxury of gardens tended by servants, who weren’t allowed to consume what they grew.
    The tomtar cook fiddled with the stove, a speckled apron stretching across her wide girth. A bonnet hid her bald spots, but copper curls stuck out around her elongated ears. “Lady Waxman wants you. She’s having a luncheon today for her bridesmaids.”
    Another damper on Edna’s foul day; she snorted. “I’m not her personal maid. If I was, I’d get more than a brittin a week.”
    Cook peeled back her black lips in a hiss, nodding her square head toward the shelves over the sink. Edna spotted a spyder perched on the corner.
    Too edgy to care what the Lord’s spy recorded, Edna snapped, “Everyone knows I’m not a lady’s maid. I’d have to be richer for that
privilege
.” Even if Lady Rachel wanted her for the post, Edna wouldn’t be allowed to accept it by society’s standards.
    “You shouldn’t be talkin’ to the likes of me.” Cook strode through a spill of flour to grab a rolling pin off the wall. Although Cook kept her dresses long to hide the bird feet, white talon prints followed her path.
    Edna averted her gaze to watch the spyder. If tomtars and human servants weren’t supposed to communicate, they shouldn’t work together. “I’ll talk to whoever I want.” By now, Lord Waxman should be