Page 37 of The Robin on the Oak Throne

“Are you a Druid, then?”

“She’s a High Priestess,” Graves said.

Gen gasped, her hand going to her chest. Kierse could see the hurt on her face. All this time they’d connected more closely than Gen had ever known. “You didn’t tell me.”

Niamh frowned. “Sorry, babe. I hated not telling you.”

A light went off in Kierse’s head. “You were training her.”

“Both of you, as much as I could,” Niamh admitted.

Kierse touched her ears, thinking about the little bit of glamour that could magically hide them when she wantedto appear wholly human. Or the healing abilities that Gen had been working on for Kierse’s nightmares. Both of which Niamh had shown them. “All of those books that magically appeared in your hand as if you knew exactly what we were looking for and how to find it.”

“I wanted to tell you,” Niamh said, momentarily sheepish. “I just liked you and knew you’d probably not take kindly to Druid interference after Lorcan’s bullshit.”

“As if you weren’tinterfering,” Graves said.

Niamh flipped him off. “This doesn’t change anything between us. Yes, I’m a High Priestess, and I’m even sort of in charge.”

“I thought Lorcan was in charge,” Kierse said. “I don’t understand how the hierarchy works.”

“He’s technically the head of the whole thing,” Niamh said on a sigh. “But you can’t think he can handle everything back home from Brooklyn, can you? Didn’t you lot throw tea into the Atlantic because you were upset with the Brits for doing exactly that?” Niamh winked. “Honestly, good for you.”

Gen giggled and then carefully forced her mouth back to neutrality.

“Sorry ’bout it, Brit,” Niamh said to Graves.

“I assure you that I am as much Irish as I am English, and I was never on the side of the colonizer in history anyway,” Graves said stiffly. “Could you get to the point?”

“Lorcan told me to ingratiate myself with you and report back,” Niamh said. “Well, then we met at the bookstore and you didn’t seem like what Lorcan had suggested.”

“And what did he suggest?” Graves asked, deadly low.

Niamh shrugged. “I gathered that he thought you mightbe controlling her. But you weren’t around. There were only two lost girls in my city, and I just couldn’t have that. So I offered to help. I haven’t been reporting anything to him, and here we are.”

“Obviously she’s lying,” Graves said.

Kierse tilted her head at Niamh. She’d known the girl for the better part of five months and felt an unexpected kindred connection with her. There was no way to discern the truth for certain, but Kierse usually trusted her gut.

“I don’t think she is,” Kierse said.

Graves clenched his hands into fists, but he said nothing further, though she knew he wanted to. He was inherapartment. She could make her own decisions. And despite everything, she liked Niamh. Maybe she was still working for Lorcan. Maybe she wasn’t.

“Come on. Oisín will tell you the right of it,” Niamh promised. She yanked the door open for everyone. “The man doesn’t lie.”

“At least someone doesn’t,” Kierse grumbled. But she followed everyone else out the door, double-checking the warding before taking the stairs.

“He knows how to twist the truth to suit him, though,” Graves said.

“Did he learn that from you?” Niamh asked, tilting her head. She might look like a bubbly Catholic school girl, but Kierse knew that there was more to Niamh than met the eye. Maybe that was what had drawn Kierse to her to begin with.

“From the Fae.” Graves turned away from Niamh in exasperation. “I agree that a trip to Oisín will be illuminating. He can convince you to leave this foolish task you are set on, as well,” he said, glancing at Kierse.

“What task?” Niamh asked as they reached the landing.

Kierse rolled her eyes. “I am not changing my mind about going into the market.”

“Wait, you’re goingintothe market?” Niamh asked in alarm. “What could you possibly want in Nying Market?”

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