Lexia was kind to me in the days following my mother's death. Though the sting of the welts on my back served as a clear reminder that even she might make me suffer, I remained grateful my overseer's "lessons" did not continue. In return, I threw myself into my work with more vigor than ever before. No more did I complain about the aches and pains I still felt from my pregnancy. I jumped eagerly at any task I was given, hoping to prove my worth. My mother had wanted me to survive and preserve her legacy. I intended to do just that. My efforts did not go unnoticed.

     In spite of my young age, my skill in the kitchen was formidable. Tasing the food I prepared both human and sibla alike proclaimed my creations even more impressive than my mother's before me. By the time my nineteenth birthday came, I had been promoted to second in the line. By twenty I was kitchen head, only just under the sibla woman who oversaw our work.

      It didn't make me particularly popular among the rest of the house slaves, many of whom resented me for my position, age, and lineage. They assumed I'd taken my place on the shoulders of my mother. That I was just as determined to become a greyskin, as they believed her to have been. I didn't care. Mama had taught me the meaning of true strength. Of being a human and still living with dignity. I'd seen that clearly in her final send off and wanted nothing more than to emulate her, making her spirit proud.

         I ignored the gossip surrounding my promotions, determined to prove myself to the humans under my command by serving as a fair leader. Over time, I commanded more and more respect from those beneath me as I imitated the firm but gentle leadership style that once served my mother so well. My successes made it easier to ignore those who still grumbled to see me so high, whispering when my back was turned.

        But it was not just at kitchen tasks that I was given the chance to excel. Lexia's fondness for me was entirely transparent. Impressed by the recipes I managed to concoct in my head, she was insistent I learn to record my work properly. Though my mother had taught me to read and write, Lexia invested in my education to an unheard of degree, offering me books from her own collection for me to improve my skills.

         I was an eager student, devouring any reading material I was offered, learning new recipes and ingredients, and inventing my own creations to commit to paper. My mother had taught me many remedies in addition to her sumptuous dishes. These too I recorded, adding more details than she ever had in the few notes she'd left behind.

         The kitchen overseer only encouraged my efforts to improve myself. Though it would have been frowned upon to offer a human such knowledge and education had any other sibla caught wind of it, Lexia helped me by secreting book after book and my very own journal. She even went as far as to offer me reading material I might enjoy in any free time I could manage.

    My favorite was a worn storybook with tales of humans from the "Time Before," the age of earth when my own species had ruled. Stories of talking animals, and clever maidens allowed me the escape I so craved when life on the estate was difficult. With Lexia as my protector, I was able to live a life of more freedom and comfort than any other human on Dulane's estate might have hoped for.

     Of course, in spite of my sibla guardian, not all of my existence was pleasant. With my mother's protection gone, Everett was all the more determined to snatch me from Lexia's grasp and make me pay for the crimes he believed myself and my mother before me, to be guilty of. Any time I was given assignments outside of the kitchen, he was certain to find me and charge me with some infraction worthy of discipline.

        When he discovered a broken egg fallen from a basket I was carrying back to the kitchen, he nearly broke my arm in retaliation, twisting it so hard as to leave me with a splint for weeks. From then on my right wrist would always twinge when put under too much strain. Luckily I'd always favored my left hand and was able to make do in spite of the pain. I did my best to hide the incident even from Lexia, telling her the injury had come from my foolishness in carrying a basket too heavy for me to handle. I vowed to be more careful in the future and had every intention of doing so. I didn't wish to cause her trouble nor draw attention to myself by beginning any sort of fight with one of Dulane's head overseers.

        But when my next faux pas lead me to return to the kitchen with a black eye, ripped dress, and skinned knees, Lexia demanded to know the cause of my injuries, not placated by my assurance it was a mere "accident." I was forced to admit my wounds were the result of Everett's punishments. Lexia was livid, ranting that he had no right to damage her animals. I worried that her defense would only serve to make things worse.

        In the end, Lexia did not confront Everett on his behavior. Instead, she saw to my injuries and sent me back to work. But after the incident, I was given far fewer assignments outside of the kitchen. I was grateful for her protection and certainly had no intention of protesting her attempts to keep me from harm, though I knew well Everett's resentment of me would only increase with her efforts.

        With my further isolation in the kitchens, Lexia worked to find more tasks that might keep me occupied without sending me into the path of my enemies. Teaching me basic math, the sibla woman soon allowed me to help her with the official kitchen budget in addition to meal planning. I loved numbers almost as much as I loved words. The riddles presented in determining the kitchen's needs, allotting for both my Master's family extravagant menus as well as budgeting enough food for the humans they kept, were enjoyable puzzles to me.

         I tried not to think about the ramifications of all items included in the finances Lexia was privy to. The amount of formula needed to bring young humans to market weights. The ingredients for the gruel fed to all those destined for slaughter, designed to fatten them as quickly as possible. I could not change our reality on the estate but I was glad to be of help to the one sibla who seemed interested in my wellbeing. And though I wondered if my complicity in Dulane's business did indeed make me a greyskin, I took heart in seeing the benefits of aiding Lexia with a portion of the kitchen provisions. In having a handle on the numbers I was able to squirrel away a certain amount of rations that would not be missed.

        It was an agreement I made with myself the day Lexia formally presented me with the fall budget and her intended allocation of rations to the humans of Dulane's stock. If there was any excess to be gleaned, I would give it to others as my mother had done with her own privilege. By having insight into Lexia's finances, I could more carefully and tactically take without notice and offer aid to those in need.

        At first it was simple things. Mama had taught me basic remedies I might offer those who came looking for them. I knew how to collect certain herbs that grew not far from my sleeping quarters. Mama herself had begun a small cultivation of plants she knew might come in handy for curing headaches or helping women through labor. But after Lexia gifted me a book on herbology, I began to work at concocting more elaborate poultices and remedies. Slipping out to visit the infirmary barracks, where those humans that were ill or injured were sometimes sent, I had the chance to test my new skills.

        My Master was not one to invest money in animals who were failing. Most humans were given a week at most to recover from their infirmities and return to work. If they could not, they were brought behind the infirmary and shot, their bodies thrown in a shallow pit to be burned to ash. But disinfecting of wounds, properly applied bandages, and a bit of white willow bark to reduce fevers, all were potential remedies to improve survival if one was willing to invest the time. My secret care helped more than a few rise from their beds before they might be culled.

        Once I was able to prove the effectiveness of my cures on a few patients word began to spread among the human flock and it was not long before some of the more daring among Dulane's stock began pulling me aside after meals, begging whatever help I might have to offer. Dreda was among the first to approach me directly.

    Older than myself by at least fifteen years, Dreda was the head human in charge of Dulane's youngest slaves. It was one night after she'd arrived at the end of the day to retrieve a box of baby formula that had been delivered to the kitchen accidentally that she caught my attention.

        I was in the process of planning the next day's meals for Lexia's approval, but the sibla woman had stepped out, leaving me entirely alone. It was then that Dreda appeared. As one of the most prominent and powerful of Dulane's humans, I recognized her immediately.

        "You must be here for the formula," I said rising from my seat help her. "I have it right here."

    As I crossed the room to the where I had left the crate after we'd sorted the rest of the food shipment, Dreda remained entirely unmoving. I was surprised the woman came herself for such a petty task. I'd expected it would be one of the lower slaves who worked under the nursery head that might have been given the job.

        "Where is Lexia?" the woman asked as I brought the formula to her.

        "She is just bringing our Mistress some tea," I answered, somewhat surprised by the question. Dreda should have no business with the kitchen overseer. It was another sibla woman who presided over the young humans and would have handled any of Dreda's concerns or requests. "She should be back within the hour."

        The older woman's eyes scanned the room quickly as she nodded. "In fact, Alice, it was you I was hoping to catch alone," she said.

        I stared at the woman uncertainly, keeping my distance in case her intentions were not good. I wondered if the timing of her visit was no accident. Lexia delivered Dulane's wife's tea at the same time every evening, leaving me on my own. But I had no idea why Dreda would seek me out and her assertion put me immediately on edge.

        "I have heard that you have provided remedy recently to some who were in the infirmary," Dreda continued.

        I didn't answer. There was no way of knowing why she asked about such dangerous things. I'd hoped others would keep quiet as a courtesy for the good I had done. Moreover, she'd trapped me alone to make these accusations. Was this an attempt at blackmail? She had the power to manage it.

        "Your mother had a similar hobby," she added, eyeing me closely. "There are a few girls on this estate today who owe their lives to her efforts."

        Still I remained silent, not willing to implicate myself in the same activities as my mother nor taint Mama's legacy and reputation. I knew the remedies she'd provided on the estate had been given in secret. I wasn't even certain Lexia ever discovered her covert operations.

        "I beg your help, Alice," Dreda said. "There are two young girls in my care who have taken ill. If they are sent to the infirmary they are sure to be put down."

        "What's wrong?" I asked. My heartbeat quickened as I attempted to offer aide right there. In the kitchens of my Master's home. It was an offense I could be slaughtered for but I knew I had to help if I could. Even if I could not be certain of Dreda's intentions.

        "They are coughing," Dreda answered. "Both have a low fever and a rash has broken out on their skin. Anything you might have to help them would be appreciated."

        Nodding my understanding I went to the herbal remedy book Lexia had given me and thumbed through its dog-eared pages. Perhaps I should have been more wary of her motives, more cautious of my actions, but I had been long looking to truly prove myself as a friend to the other humans on the estate, not a foe. Dreda was not only powerful but well liked by human and sibla alike. I did not wish to disappoint her.

        The symptoms the woman described were not uncommon in children. It was possible they might resolve with rest, but anything that might heal the little ones more quickly could be the difference between life and death. If one of the sibla who oversaw the children was to believe there was a potential infection among them, the girls would be immediately culled to prevent the spread of the disease.

        "We don't have much time," I said. "Lexia will be back soon. Come here tomorrow morning and I will have what you need."

        "Thank you, Alice," the woman answered.

        In her expression, I saw nothing but gratitude. I knew my mother had held favorable opinion of Dreda while she still lived, but I'd never had much reason to interact with her. Humans on Dulane's farm were kept separate from one another unless we had true reason to communicate. It made it far harder to trust those that one didn't know. Most were far too willing to report on their fellows in return for some favor from a sibla overseer. Still, for whatever reason, I did trust this woman and was determined to do what I could.

        As soon as Dreda left I set to work, hoping to make use of what kitchen tools I could before I might get caught. Taking ginger, turmeric, garlic, milk, and some chilies, I set to work crushing and mixing up a concoction that I hoped to sooth the poor children's cough. I made a poultice for the rash.

        When Lexia returned and asked what I was doing, lies poured from my lips.

"I am trying a new recipe, Ma'am."

Looking at the ingredients laid out on the counter I could see the skepticism in the woman's eyes, but she didn't question.

        "I am going to bed, Alice," she said. "Promise me you will not stay up too late. I expect you on time tomorrow morning."

        "I will not fail you."

I knew well enough that she was overlooking whatever I was doing and that I could not take advantage of that kindness.

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        It was after 1 am by the time I finished my work and cleaned all signs of my makeshift apothecary. I'd created two different poultices and an elixir that would sooth the girl's throats, laced with a fair helping of honey to ensure they would drink the mix. The assortment of remedies I hid in my secret corner of the kitchens before creeping back to the bunks and slipping into bed fully clothed, hoping to gain a few hours sleep before I would need to return to work.
       
At 3:30 am I was up again. Though I'd managed little sleep, my body felt more alive than it had in some time, riding the high of exhaustion. I always hoped I might be given the chance to prove myself as my mother's true heir and not just Dulane's favored human. To show that I was one dedicated to helping her fellows as well. There could be no better opportunity.

    Of course, there was some part of me continued to remain ill at ease. Trusting someone as powerful on the estate as Dreda was fraught with risk. She was older than I, with more credibility among our sibla masters. What she had asked of me was forbidden and I had accepted. Were she to prove my enemy, this favor could spell my death in spite of Lexia's love. I tried not to think of the dangers as I quickly showered and dressed in fresh clothes, determined to be at the kitchens early. While the others I lived with were still only beginning to wake I was already out the door, claiming that I had work Lexia wanted done well before the breakfast shift
       
By 4:30 am I was in the kitchen. I went first to check and ensure none had uncovered my secret work in my absence. The bottles and jars I had prepared remained untouched. Looking for a rag, I wrapped up the remedies in a small parcel with a note of instructions for Dreda, hoping that she would be well enough educated to understand them. I even included two peppermint candies Lexia had gifted me.

    I knew the mint would be good for the children's sore throats and I hoped the sugar would cheer them. Even if my help couldn't save them, my mother always taught me that, as humans, we must make the most of the short lives we had and offer happiness to others when we could. I only wished I might be able to see my patients. Without seeing them in person I could hardly tell if their symptoms truly matched the examples I'd found in my book. But of course, my job had nothing to do with the nursery. Humans were not permitted to meddle in affairs outside of their assigned purview.

        I'd just finished tying off the package when I heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs and then the creak of the kitchen door as it swung open. I felt my stomach lurch for a moment. No one should have arrived yet and I did not wish to be caught appearing to be doing something I should not. But when I turned, I saw it was a child who stood there by the entryway. One I did not know. I went to greet her, looking to abandon my secret stash quickly lest it become known I had anything to hide.

        "How can I help you?" I asked, hoping my voice sounded calm and entirely unconcerned by her presence. "The rest of the kitchen team will not arrive for some time still."

        "Are you, Ms. Alice?" the girl asked.
        The child was young, with pigtail braids and freckles splattered across the bridge of her nose. Probably no more than five. Still too young to have been given any permeant assignments. I nodded in answer to her question.

        "Ms. Dreda sent me," the girl continued, her voice so sweet and innocent. "She said that Ms. Alice would have a package and that I was to deliver it as quick as I could and she wouldn't give me any breakfast until I did."

    It seemed Dreda hadn't been willing or able to risk coming back herself. That explained the young messenger. I realized had no choice but to trust the girl and have faith that Dreda knew what she was doing sending one so young in place of one who might better understand the importance of what she was carrying. I'd already agreed to help and wouldn't abandon the sick children now. Smiling at the girl as if her task was entirely ordinary I retrieved the bundle and placed it in her arms.

        "Be careful with that," I said, crouching down to meet with her face to face. "Ms. Dreda must think you are very responsible to send you on such an important errand. You must make certain this package gets to her and no one else. Do you understand?"

        The young one smiled and nodded, clearly proud to have such an important task.

        "Good girl," I answered, giving her a smile in return. "And for being such a good messenger I have a present for you."

        Going back to my stash of secret items I found a small piece of chocolate I had been hoarding for myself. Another gift from Lexia, the majority of which I had already finished some time ago. The little girl's eyes grew wide with awe as I showed her the candy, then wrapped it up again and tucked it into the pocket of her skirts.

        "Our little secret?" I said.
        The child beamed all the more as she nodded her head solemnly.

        My heart ached as I stared at her. I'd lost three children by now. My first little boy and a pair of twins a year and a half later. All had been born healthy. All had been designated as market stock. I did not even know if they still resided on the estate, crammed in some small cage awaiting eventual slaughter or if they had long since been sold off. They might already be dead. In this child's innocent face I saw what they might have become had they lived, the image threatening to evoke emotions I had worked so hard to suppress. Luckily I had no time to dwell on such sentimentality. Lexia and the other kitchen slaves would arrive soon and this girl could not be caught there without raising questions.

        "Run along," I said. "Straight back to Ms. Dreda."
       
It was not long after the girl left that others began trickling in for their shifts in the kitchen. None of them mentioned the child so I hoped she had indeed been unnoticed as she went about her clandestine mission.

        Lexia did not ask me about my late night experiments when she arrived and I tried not to think about it much as I went about my day. There was nothing I could do now but hope my remedy might help its intended recipients. That I might have been able to somehow prolong their young lives just a bit. That Dreda was trustworthy and would not betray me for my aide.

        It was only a few weeks later that another shipment of infant formula was mistakenly dropped at the kitchen. The two humans who showed up to take it back to the nursery were teens I recognized as girls who helped with the youngest of the flock, working under Dreda. Before they left, one slipped a piece of paper into my hand. On the sheet, only two words were written.

Thank You

D.