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Jeremy exhales loud enough for the whole room to hear. He shakes his cell at me. “Keep us posted.”
I wiggle my hand at him as if I’m holding my phone. “I promise to text you and Colleen when we leave Robbie’s, and once we’re on the train with our Dublin ETA. Are we good?”
After a hug from Colleen and another that goes on a beat too long from Jeremy, the trio heads back downstairs. Charlie is the only one who leaves the room with unhunched shoulders.
As soon as they’re gone, I reluctantly scoot out of Sion’s protective custody. “Well, partner, your close personal attention convinced our audience we’re definitely into each other despite our rocky public start. A little hanging out at Charleville castle and a single sneaky night telling stories in the woods…I think we’ve redefined whirlwind romance.”
Sion’s face flames as he pops up off the couch. I hit a nerve. I’m just not sure which one.
He paces in a lap around me. “You should know, it’s been longer than that for me.”
I stare at him. “Longer than what?” My stomach performs an unpleasant twist.
His shoe paws the carpet. “The time here in Ireland.”
I’m gripped in the all too familiar feeling of Sion knowing scads more than he communicates.
There’s serious curl scratching while he blows out three slow breaths. “I haven’t told you all, but will you accept my word that it’s not because I’m lying or deliberately keeping you blinded? There’s a world to say and?—”
A rush of anger, or maybe the infusion of coffee, prompts me to cut him off. “You don’t trust me to handle it even after I’ve survived the boatload of weird you’ve dumped on me already?” I smack the couch cushion. “Time travel, the soulfall, Pwyll, the oubliette—hello? And again…what the hell do you mean by it’s been longer than our time in Ireland?”
Sion stands behind an armchair, fingernails digging into its back. “I told you Finnbheara intended you to be by my side for this final go at the soulfall.”
I twirl my hand, signaling him to keep going.
“To understand who you’d be…” His words drift off as he struggles with the rest of the explanation. He punches the chair’s headrest. “I’ve seen...”
His evasiveness sets off a dull ache at the base of my neck. “Spit it out, Sion.”
He wilts, closing his eyes as if he’s afraid to meet my gaze. “Finnbheara showed you to me.”
I press a hand to my racing heart. “What does that mean? Did you spy on me in New York?”
His eyes pop open. “No, it’s not like that.” He rubs his forehead and then looks back at me. “Himself offered me visions.”
An image of Sion sitting next to a fairy king, watching blurry videos of my life streams through my mind. “Of what exactly?”
The tension in Sion’s features relax, and a shy smile plays upon his lips. He leaves the barricade of the armchair to sit on the coffee table facing me. “You helping tend a garden. A kind smile for a troubled soul. Spinning tales before your class. Grand appreciation for trees in a great park shedding their summer green for wondrous gold.”
“Was anyone else in the visions?” The concept of these intrusions unsettles me. I don’t like the idea of anyone I care about being pulled into this morass of the soulfall and time travel.
His voice is quiet and gentle. “Only you, love. Only you.” He meets my gaze, his own inscrutable as he waits for my response. When I don’t answer right away, he continues. “Those moments showed me your enthusiasm, a generous heart, kindness. I...” He trails off.
The look in his eyes mirrors the same pull that’s been simmering inside me.
“Eala.” He takes my hands in his. “I need you to know if I could ask for one thing apart from ending the soulfall, it would be to spend easy days with you without unforgiving time hanging over our heads. I want to learn more of your beautiful heart.”
This earnest, soft-spoken version of Sion is my favorite one yet. My frustration with him and the creepy notion he’s magically spied on me begins to ebb. Visions, seeings, and premonitions are all elements of the folklore my scholarly life is steeped in. If I continue to embrace the truth that I’m currently rooted in parallel realities, it’s not far-fetched to be tangled up with the intangible.
In a neck-cracking change of mood, Sion drops into a crouch next to me, pressing his body against my legs. Words spill from him like a dam burst. “When you toppled on the hillside, my chest near tore in two. Fear I’d caused you harm shook my bones. Fool that I am, I convinced myself you were fine when we came from the woods.” He’s now hugging my knees. “I should have kept a closer watch. Travelling once in a night when you’ve never done so before is hard enough and here, I ripped you through the Veil half a dozen times.” Sion drops his head onto my lap. “It’s a gift from above that I didn’t kill you.”
Both his voice and body shake. It’s my turn to comfort him. I stroke his russet curls, thoroughly enjoying their soft silkiness. This intimacy is not for the benefit of our friends. Could it be this brash and unpredictable man is catching feelings for me the way I am for him? I decide to wait. He’s said he wants to know me better. Good advice. That goes both ways.
I tilt his chin so he’s looking up at me. “I’d wish for more easy days with you as well—to help me get to know you better.”
His eyes shine with relief. He plops down next to me on the couch and stabs the biggest piece of roasted potato with a fork. “We may not have days, but we have now. Ask away.”
I take another gulp of coffee. “Given our situation, I suppose I’ll have to look at time differently.” Leaning my head back, I stare at Robbie’s white ceiling. “I’ve had two regular plus one Celtic day with you versus you watching me for a lifetime. Not exactly a balanced investment.”
