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“Cordelia said that there was a professor you’ve been in contact with,” Esta pressed. “Who is he?”
For a second it looked like Maggie would try to lie to her, but then she relented. “I don’t know who he is, exactly. I don’t think he’s actually a professor.” She frowned. “Not like you’re actually a thief. It’s what everyone calls him because he knows so much about the old magic.”
“He’s in New York, isn’t he?” Esta asked, knowing already what the answer would be.
“Yes, but…” Maggie looked suddenly more alarmed. “You know of him?”
Esta ran her finger along the scar on the inside of her wrist once more. Its sudden appearance had told her that Nibsy still planned on using her, but she hadn’t considered that Nibsy could be involved with the Antistasi.
But I should have.
“What does he have on you?” Esta asked, instead of answering Maggie’s question.
Immediately, Maggie’s eyes widened and fear darkened her expression. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do.” Esta took a step toward Maggie. “He’s holding something over you, something so big that you decided to stay here with Cordelia and me instead of going off with North like I know you wanted to.”
“I didn’t—” Maggie’s voice broke, betraying her once more.
“You did,” Esta said, looking almost sympathetic. “It was right there, plain as day on your face, how much you wanted to say yes to him. But you didn’t. You let Cordelia threaten you. Why?”
Maggie was shaking her head. “I can’t… I’m not supposed to—not even Jericho knows about it.”
“But Cordelia does,” Esta pressed. “You didn’t know that, though. Did you?”
Maggie looked completely miserable. She lifted her eyes to Esta, but still didn’t explain.
“If Cordelia is working with this professor of yours, Maggie, you’re in bigger trouble than you think.”
“You can’t know—”
“I do know. The man I told you about, the one who raised me?” Esta said, interrupting. “We called him Professor Lachlan. I would bet everything that they’re the same person.” Maggie was still shaking her head to deny it, but Esta wouldn’t allow her to. “Think about it, Maggie. Two people who call themselves Professor, who both have deep knowledge about the old magic, and who both happen to live in Manhattan? You know I’m not lying about this,” she pressed, using her situation to her advantage. “Cordelia made sure of that.”
Maggie stared at her for a long, terrible moment before her face crumpled.
“Whatever he’s holding over you, there has to be a way around it,” Esta promised.
“There’s not,” Maggie whispered. “I thought I was helping, but I’ve made everything worse. You couldn’t possibly understand.”
“I do understand, Maggie,” Esta said gently. “I know exactly how persuasive he is. He makes you feel important, like you’re the only one who can help him, the only one capable of doing whatever he needs done. But he was only ever using you. It’s what he does. He manipulates people, and when he’s done with them, he discards them.” She thought of Dolph, cold on the bar top, and Dakari falling lifeless and bloodied to the floor. But Esta pushed those memories away because she had to focus on this moment and especially on making Maggie understand. “He’ll discard you, and he’ll discard North as well.” She took another step toward Maggie. “You don’t have to let him, though. I can help you. We can do this—”
“I can’t,” Maggie moaned, cutting her off. “If I don’t do what I’ve promised and bring you and the artifacts to New York, he’ll kill Ruth and everyone else we left back in St. Louis.”
“How?” Esta challenged. “He’s trapped behind the Brink.”
“But the Antistasi aren’t,” Maggie told her. “They’re his.”
“What do you mean?” Esta asked, trying to make sense of Maggie’s fear. “The Antistasi are ancient—you said that yourself.”
“The stories are, yes, but the network Cordelia’s been talking about? He’s the one who organized it,” Maggie explained. “Maybe once the Antistasi were a loose organization, but that hasn’t been the case for a couple of years now. The whole network is loyal to him. The Professor doesn’t need to be anywhere close to St. Louis to hurt the people I care about there. He has plenty of others who will gladly follow his orders.”
“Was Ruth following his orders too?”
“For a while,” Maggie admitted. “But she grew tired of the arrangement. She thought there was a better way to fight the Brotherhoods, so she cut him out. I was worried about her plan to break away from the larger network, so I agreed to be his eyes—his spy. I thought I was helping her.” Maggie paused, clearly gathering her thoughts. “When you arrived in St. Louis, the Professor promised he would forgive Ruth and her followers if I could bring you to our side. I sent him a message when we left St. Louis to let him know I was with you and that we had two of the artifacts. But after Harte took the stones, I didn’t tell him they were gone. I thought I could get the dagger instead. I hoped it would be enough to replace what I’d lost. When Cordelia tells him—”
“We can stop her before that happens,” Esta said.
“It’s probably already too late,” Maggie said, sounding deflated and resigned. “Cordelia probably went straight to the telegraph office. He might already know—” Her voice broke, and she buried her face in her hands.
