Page 224 of The Robin on the Oak Throne

“Ding, ding, ding.” He leaned forward. “Where is it?”

She shrugged. “Gone. Guess I wasn’t too bad of a thief, after all.”

“I see. She doesn’t know shit.”

He turned his back on her as if he really were ready to discard her. She couldn’t let that happen.

“Why did you do it?” she asked him before he reached the door.

He stopped. “Do what?”

“Erase my memories after you put the spell on me.”

He whirled around. Surprise lit his face. “So the spellisbroken?”

“Yes.”

All the puzzle pieces fit together, suddenly. Graves had never met Cillian. He wouldn’t have known Jason and Cillian were the same man, the one who had stolen her life away twice. Lorcan had said Cillian was dead—someone had killed himduring the Monster War.Shewas that someone. After she’d paralyzed him, he must have gone underground. Scrubbed his identity and started a new life. One where he was still a thief, but no longer the one who got his hands dirty. It was just like him. Everything fit—and still, the question lingered…

“Why did you do it?” she asked again. “I know that you’re Cillian Ryan. A Druid, cast out after you drained Sansara. You were doing dirty underground work using magic while you started your thieving ring. Before you became this…”

“Is that what you think? I wassavingchildren like you.” He gestured to her. “You were never going to amount to anything. You weren’t going to do anything except die like the rest of your kind. Just like the rest of my little ring of thieves.”

She bristled with indignation. “I’m a survivor.”

“You were a half breed,” he snarled. “Half of anything is a whole of nothing.”

“But you could havetold me,” she yelled at him.

He shrugged, unconcerned. “Then what use would you have been to me?”

And it was that simple. He’d stolen and used children as a way to bring in followers who were devoted to him. As she had been. As had they all. Now he had a cult around him and his stupid tree. More power, more followers, more devotion, just like he wanted.

This wasn’t how it ended. This couldn’t possibly be right.

“So, that’s it. You did it to get followers. You couldn’t earn anyone’s respect, so you stole our memories and made us your little devotees.”

“Not everyone,” he said with a one-shoulder shrug. “Just those with magic.”

“But youhavemagic. You’re a Druid. You have Sansara!”

“Power begets power,” he said. “The more power I had, the more likely I was going to be able to replant Sansara’s power, making my own power infinite.”

“But why would hiding our magic, taking our memories, give you anything?”

“It gave meeverything,” he said with the calm assurance of someone who had been doing this so long that he was fully convinced of his righteousness. “Just like draining Sansara did.”

She stilled at the smug look on his face. The spell. The block. The reason she couldn’t see into that room.

A horrible thought hit her. She had been weaker with the spell over her, but she could still access her powers. As if the spell had only been a dampener. But with Jason standing before her in all his pomp and egoism, she had another thought.

He’d siphoned away the magic of Sansara, letting the tree crumble to ash, and thenretainedthose powers for years, making him one of the most powerful people in the city. Then he’d rounded up a ton of children and made them his thieving guild. He could have had anyone at his side, but he’d chosen the most vulnerable.

A power source.

The spell hadn’t hid her magic at all. It was…a siphon.

“The spell wasn’t what you told my parents at all, was it?” she asked in horror. “The room in Tribeca…”

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