Kilkarten was the main topic, of course. Jeremy took center stage as he recalled how the quest for Ivernis had begun. “It started when I was excavating a site in southern Italy. It was a second century site, and everything we found was exciting but expected—except for the toggles.”
Lauren and Mike both kicked me. “Beads without holes,” I said quickly. Jeremy was still talking.
“They had similar patterns and colorants to ones found in Ireland, so much that I was convinced they were connected. But the connection between Ireland and Rome is contentious. It’s much easier to believe all trade went through France and Britain. I wrote papers on the subject and did extensive research, and spent a decade excavating potential sites.
“When nothing showed up right away, people lost faith—though not Natalie.” He paused and smiled warmly at me. “She kept doing research back home, while I headed over to Ireland to see what I could find on this side. It took years, but I finally tracked down references in the scribblings of illuminated manuscripts. You see, Ireland has several great oral poems, such as The Tain, but while that one was actually preserved, many more were lost. However, when the monks started transcribing the Greek and Arabic works, they often used young boys to write who’d grow bored and doodle in the margins.”
He gestured at Dr. Grady. “Aware of this, I gained permission from the university to study the off-drawings in their extensive hold of manuscripts. And I was able to put together the narrative about the Iverni people, also called the Erainn. And you can follow that to the Dáirine, known in the Ulster Cycle of legends. And so with the help of Dr. Grady, we combed the materials for any mentions of land and location, which were usually put as mythological. But with Natalie’s research into the geography we were able to find the probable location of Iverni.”
I sighed happily. Jeremy’s perseverance always made me warm and fuzzy and delighted.
Mike turned to me. “So you knew Ivernis was supposed to be somewhere nearby, and used all your geophysical whatever to figure out the most likely place for a city back then.”
I nodded.
“Isn’t that sort of like figuring out what you want your evidence to prove before actually gathering it?”
Look who suddenly had opinions about something he’d spent weeks shunting aside. “Of course not. I mean, the evidence that a site was located here is strong enough even without Jeremy’s research. It’s not like I made anything up.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, so, your research holds up that maybe there’s a site. But why assume it’s Ivernis? Isn’t that like the same as Schliemann’s Troy?”
I went hot and cold and wished I’d never told him anything. “Mike.”
Jeremy and the others regarded him with some disdain.
Mike relaxed back into his chair. “Just saying.”
“Don’t.” I kicked him again. Hard.
Anna—blessed, oblivious Anna—took that moment to interrogate the professors about studying archaeology at college. Kate, sensing her daughter’s active interest in an academic field, also leaped in the conversation.
Mike excused himself first. “Nice to meet all of you,” he said as he stood, and the professors all looked up at him. “Welcome to Kilkarten. Be sure to let me know if you need anything.” He strode off.
Across the table, Lauren’s brows shot up. I quickly tucked my legs out of reach in case she wanted to kick me, just to make sure I’d noticed Mike’s somewhat aloof manner.
Which I definitely had. I smiled at the table and excused myself, and then ran out after Mike.
It was drizzling again, so light it almost just felt like a heavy mist, and gray blurred out everything two feet beyond me. Mike’s hair, like always, carried an extra gleam, like a copper penny cutting through the haze. I caught up with him, grabbing his arm. In the fog, he stood out like a moonbeam on the water. “‘Welcome to Kilkarten’?”
He stared stubbornly ahead as we continued on the path back to the inn. “It’s my land.”
“We are all well aware of that, Mr. O’Connor. Did you need to rub our noses in it?”
“‘Our’? You’re an ‘our’ with that group?”
“Mike! What is going on with you? There’s no reason to get so worked up.”
His lips pressed together into a narrow, thin line. “How can you like a guy who takes credit for your work?”
“What?” I shook my head. “What are you talking about? Jeremy is a genius. He’s not taking any undue credit.”
“Yeah, he is. So he found some stupid beads—and don’t even get me started on the fact that this entire thing is based on ‘non-beads.’”
“You’re already started.”
He glared at me. “So he found them and decided that meant Ivernis existed. Great. You’re the one that found this location. You figured out where the river used to be and the likeliest place for a settlement. Why the hell aren’t you getting the credit?”
“Because. Jeremy’s my professor. Anyways, he’s been studying manuscripts and finding other sources that mentioned Ivernis.”
“I don’t get why you’re so loyal to him.”
Please. I looked down at my feet as they moved over long grasses. We paced as quickly as we spoke, a frantic energy surrounding our words and movements. Something was off with us. “What about your coach? Aren’t you loyal to him?”
“That’s different.”
“I don’t think it is.”
“It is, because I don’t spend so much one-on-one time with him. I don’t do things for him, like you secured the funding and the permission and the lodging. And I get paid a ton, while you do this out of personal emotions.”
“I’m loyal to Jeremy because—because—” I’d never tried to psycho-analyze my relationship with Jeremy. “He’s a great person. He’s brilliant, and intense, and sincere, and dedicated. And he has helped me so much.”
“He’s not interested in you. Oh, he finds it cute and flattering, but he’s not interested.”
I jerked to a stop, enlightenment finally descending. “You’re jealous.”
He wrenched around to face me. “Yeah, fine. I’m jealous.”
Wow. Wonder bloomed in my chest as I studied the simmering anger in Mike’s gaze and clenched jaw. “Mike, no, I don’t like him. I like you.”
“Except you think he’s brilliant and wonderful.”
“I think my best friend Cam is brilliant and wonderful, and I don’t want to date her either.”
I could see him trying to pull all his emotions away and bury them behind his mask of calm, the mask he usually covered with another of charm. I didn’t want that. I wanted Mike, raw and unfiltered, and I wanted to understand why he was upset. “Mike, I’m confused. What are you trying to get at?”
He studied me. “I guess I’m just interested if he’s the kind of guy you’d consider lifetime monogamy for?”
I scrunched up my forehead. “What?”
“You said you didn’t believe in love, but in lifetime monogamy with someone you’re compatible with. He seems like a good candidate. What do you think?”
“Why are you pushing this?”
“I just want to know.”
Irritated across all bounds, I answered honestly. “Sure, I could see that. We have similar interests and career goals and values. We’d probably always be interested in each other as human beings.”
“You’d rather be with some guy you’re well-matched for then someone you love.” Then he shook his head. “Sorry. You don’t believe in love.”