He didn’t wait for her agreement, so Esta didn’t have much choice but to leave Logan and follow the Professor down the hall to the elevator. They rode the ancient machine in silence, the cage vibrating and rattling as it made its way to the top of the building he owned. It had once been filled with individual apartments, but now Professor Lachlan owned all of it. She’d grown up in those narrow hallways, and it was the only home she could remember. It had been a strange childhood filled with adults and secrets—at least until Logan arrived.
When the doors opened, they stepped directly into the Professor’s library, its walls lined floor-to-ceiling with books. These weren’t like the unread, gilded spines of Schwab’s books, though. Professor Lachlan’s shelves were packed with volumes covered in faded leather or worn cloth, most cracked and broken from years of use.
No one had a collection like his. He’d purchased most of the volumes in his personal library under false names. Others, he’d had Esta liberate from reluctant owners over the years. Many of his colleagues knew his collection was large, but no one knew how extensive it was, how deep its secrets went—not even the members of his own team. In truth, no one dead or alive knew as much about the secrets New York held as James Lachlan did. Esta had spent almost every day of her childhood in that room, studying for hours, learning everything she needed to blend in during any time in the city’s history.
She’d hated those hours. It was time she would have rather spent on one of their daily walks, the long, winding strolls that Professor Lachlan used to teach her the city, street by street. Or better, prowling through the city herself, practicing her skills at lifting a wallet, or sparring with Dakari in the training room. The long hours she’d spent learning in that room had served her well, though. That knowledge had gotten her and Logan out of more than one tough spot.
But it hadn’t helped at Schwab’s mansion. She made a mental note to do more research on the blond—Jack—whoever he was. If their paths crossed again, she’d be ready.
Professor Lachlan made his way slowly into the room, straightening a pile of papers and books as he went. Clearly, he was in no hurry to get to his point.
It was a test, she knew. A familiar test, and one she was destined to fail.
“You said we needed to talk?” she asked, unable to stand his silence any longer.
The Professor regarded her with the expression he often wore, the one that kept even the people closest to him from knowing his thoughts. He might have made an excellent poker player, if he’d ever cared to gamble. But he never did anything unless he was already sure how it would turn out.
“Patience, girl,” he told her, his usual rebuke when he thought she’d acted impulsively—which was all too often, in his opinion.
He took a few more labored steps toward his desk, his lined face creasing with the effort. When his cane slipped and he stumbled, she was at his arm in an instant.
“You should sit,” she said, but he waved her off with a look that had her stepping back.
He hated it when anyone fussed. He never wanted to admit that he might need some fussing every so often.
Never expose your weaknesses, he’d taught her. The minute someone knows where you’re soft, they can drive in the knife.
“I don’t have time to sit.” He leveled an unreadable stare in her direction. “You allowed a member of the Order to see you.” His tone made it clear that the words were meant to scold as much as to inform.
“What was I supposed to do?” she asked, lifting her chin. “Leave Logan? I saved his life. I brought him back to you. I kept our team together.”
Professor Lachlan’s expression didn’t so much as flicker, but something in the air between them changed. “You lost sight of your assignment.”
“I got the dagger.”
His mouth went tight. “Yes, but that wasn’t the only thing you took, was it?”
“I tried to give you the diamond.”
“I didn’t send you to steal diamonds. If you had been on time, as was planned, none of this would have happened.”
“I can’t say that I’m sorry,” she told him, forcing herself to meet his eyes. “I saw an opportunity, and I took it. Just like you taught me.”
“You did, didn’t you?” He studied her. “You’ve always been a good student, possibly even better than Logan—though not as disciplined—but your impulsiveness had consequences this time.”
She’d learned long ago not to flinch under the weight and expectation of the Professor’s stare, so she didn’t now. But the reminder of her mistakes hit its mark.
Her throat went tight. “What do you want me to do? I can go back, fix it.”
“What would you do? Try to stop yourself??” Professor Lachlan shook his head. “I don’t know if it’s even possible. And I won’t risk any more damage to the stone for a fool’s errand.” He pinned Esta with his steady, patient stare just as he’d done since she was a small girl. “What’s done is done. We go on from here. As always.”
“But the Order,” she reminded him. “You said yourself, they’ve seen me now.” She looked up at him, forcing herself to meet his eyes the way he had taught her when she was a girl. “The whole point of stealing from the past is so the Order can’t see me coming, but now they’ll know. They might even be waiting for me.” I’m useless to you, she couldn’t stop herself from thinking.
And if that were true, what role could she play in the Professor’s world? If she couldn’t do the job he had groomed her for, where would she belong?
“They saw you in 1926, true. But that only means they’ll know who and what you are after that point.” He gave her a look that said she should have figured that much out on her own.
Understanding hit. “But not before,” she whispered.
“No, not before,” he agreed.
“There has to be plenty to take from the years before the twenties.”
Professor Lachlan leveled another indecipherable look in her direction that had her falling silent as he made his way steadily past the stacks of old newspapers and books to the large wall safe at the far side of his office.
He placed his hand against the sensor, and when the lock released, he took a large box from the recesses of the vault. Esta kept quiet and didn’t bother to ask him if he needed help with it, not even when it was clear he did. Finally, he managed to make his way to the large desk that stood at the midpoint of the room.
The heavy oak table was covered in piles of papers and stacks of books. Setting the box on one of the smaller piles, he sank into a straight-backed chair and set the crutch aside before he bothered to speak.
“Back when I found you wandering alone in Seward Park, I wasn’t in the market for a child. But when I discovered what you could do—your affinity for time—I realized you could be the key to my plans,” he said, leaning forward in his chair. “It’s why I’ve spent the last twelve years training you, teaching you everything you would need to know to go to any point in the city’s past and take care of yourself.