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At her comment, Sion gives my hand a bone-crushing squeeze. A glance at his face tells me something is off, but he recovers in an instant, flashing me another mushy smile. “As emerald as morning dew on the grass.”
What is he talking about? My eyes are as far from emerald as dew is from sand. They do go greener if I’m wearing green, but aside from that, they’re closer to dove gray with a sprig of mint.
Colleen’s gaze assesses Sion from cowlick to sneaker. She leans close to whisper to me. “Are you going to tell me the words on your ring mean, find him?”
“We’ll talk later,” I whisper back.
Charlie’s eyes narrow. “So you two are a thing?”
A thing. That may be the best description of us yet. At the same time, Sion and I both say, “Yeah.”
“As new a thing as you two,” I say, shooting Sion my version of an adoring smile that somehow feels real. “We stayed up all night besting each other with Irish folktales. Kindred spirits you might say.”
Sion trains a strand of hair behind my ear while staring into my eyes. “This lovely one’s rendition of Deirdre’s story ‘twas wondrous.”
Even though he must be doing it for Colleen and Charlie’s benefit, I can’t look away.
“When Eala told the part of the story when the fir that grew from the grave of Deirdre on one side of the loch reached…” Sion raises his arm, fingers stretching wide. “…And then the way the other tree across the water rose from the grave of her one true love, Naois…”
I lift my hand and thread my fingers through his. His voice trails off as we float in each other’s gaze. How have I become bound to someone so completely in a single Celtic day? A man devoid of a single drop of the stability and comfort I crave.
I finish Deirdre’s tale I know well from Máthair’s telling. “The two branches unite in a knot in the sky above the water—forever.”
Desire to kiss Sion pools in my chest. As if reading my thoughts, he leans in. My heart races. Charlie kills the moment by grunting and pawing a mound of grass like he’s trying to bore a hole to the center of the Earth.
“Uh…ah…well…shite,” he stammers, sticking to his attempts at Irish lingo. “I might have, ah?—”
Colleen rubs his arm. “Are you okay, C?
He pats her hand. “Uh, huh, C.”
Their cute factor spikes high enough to rival Veil travel nausea.
Charlie flings an arm at the woods. “When I came here to take a piss, I heard you guys and?—”
I don’t realize I’m squishing the bones of Sion’s fingers together until he gives my hand a shake. I frantically replay our woodland conversation. Did Charlie hear any of our talk about heart attacks, soul saving, or Veil travel?
Sion’s thumb gives my hand a series of taps as if he’s sending me a coded message to let him do the talking. He shoots me a suggestive smile. “Eala tells Faerie stories with high-volume enthusiasm.”
Obviously, a master at thinking on his feet, I imagine Sion has faced more precarious pickles than convincing Charlie nothing otherworldly went down in Farmer McKean’s woods.
Charlie holds up both hands as if preparing to ward off a punch. “What I’m trying to say is—I mentioned to Professor Olk you guys went off together.”
I drop Sion’s hand and take a step away from him. “You did what?”
When the four of us turn toward the stones, my eyes lock on a figure streaking across the campsite in our direction.
Charlie tucks in his lower lip, voice curt. “You brought Olk’s reaction on yourselves. If you’d given us warning about your sneaky rendezvous?—”
Last night, Jeremy Olk checked every box in my dream man scenario. Sion checks none of them, yet here I am with a gut full of tumbling emotions for this character that could star in one of Máthair’s folktales. On top of that, I certainly wasn’t prepared to announce I’m part of an insta-couple, but the bizarre circumstances of our partnership obliterates any subtle reveal of our togetherness.
Sion catches sight of the approaching ground level Olk storm at the same time I do. “Damn,” he mutters. “Feller’s wearing a pair of boss eyes for both of us.”
“Don’t say anything to make things worse,” I hiss, half-expecting the current mood of Kennard Park U’s newest professor to trigger more lightning.
We meet Jeremy halfway to the campsite. He throws a protective arm around my shoulders. Sion plays it smart instead of confrontational and gives us space.
Jeremy cups the side of my face. “Are you all right, Eala?” Before I get a word in, he launches a venomous stare at Sion. “You, Loho, are no longer welcome with our tour. I don’t know what you pulled to separate Eala from the rest of us?—”
