Grace and Duncan went back to their university, from which they could work remotely. Grace, to my shock, drew me aside before leaving. “You should know that just in case Jeremy leaves, we aren’t. We’ll work here as long as there are things to find and funding to find them. Duncan and I want to work here as long as we have funding. Which shouldn’t be a problem. But just know that you can come back if you want.”

So that was kind of nice.

The reason she’d said it was less nice.

We’d found so much. I was so thrilled. But we hadn’t found anything to support Ivernis. And I didn’t think we were going to.

Especially after we got the radiocarbon dates back.

I found Jeremy alone in his room on the first Friday in September, studying photos and papers. I closed the door quietly behind me, and he looked up with the frown that seemed to be engraved on his face these days. He slid a packet across the table.

I swallowed, reading the results in his eyes. Still, I took the papers out.

500 CE.

My gut clenched. My words came out as a whisper. “What are we going to do?”

He didn’t meet my gaze, just kept looking between his papers, pen occasionally trailing ink. “We’re going to keep looking.”

“Here?” I shook my head slowly. “I don’t know.”

“Not here.

But what about this site? I thought of Maggie, and Anna, of the Wójcik siblings, of Simon Daly. Of the tourists they hoped to bring, the jobs they wanted to create. I thought about the lay of Ireland in 500 CE, of the Gaelic period and the transition to Christianity and the warring kingdoms that stretched across the island. “There’s still something here.”

Now he finally raised his head. “We’re not looking for something. We’re looking for Ivernis. We’re looking for real, tangible proof of the connection between Rome and Ireland. I thought that was what you wanted too.”

Of course it was. “So what are we going to do?”

He sighed. “Try again.”

But what about the people here? Could I leave them for a dream, no matter how vivid? What about the site, the box, the beads?

But what about Ivernis?

“Jeremy—don’t you feel—There’s still a site here. There’re still people who want to work on it.”

He stood. “Then they can work on it themselves. Find another archaeologist who will lead them in another season. We have more important things to find.”

I sat back uncertainly. “I don’t know. Don’t you think we should stay here another season or two?”

“Natalie.” He sat down beside me, and placed his hands on my arms. “You can’t give up your dream just because you’re afraid of hurting people. So they’ll be upset for a minute. Then they’ll get over it. You can’t let a week of discomfort stop you from what you really want to do in your life.”

“But—Jeremy, I’m not sure what I want anymore.”

He frowned. “You’ve known what you wanted since you were seventeen years old. You’re just—confused right now. You had a complicated relationship with O’Connor. Don’t stay here just because you’re trying to hold on to him somehow.

That made sense. “But...”

“Natalie. You’re thinking too emotionally. Just take some time to reflect. Make sure you’re thinking about your dreams.”

But I’d always thought with my heart. My heart had always said to look for Ivernis, while everything logical sent me elsewhere. “I’ll think.”

He hugged me when he left. “You’ll make the right decision. I know you will.”

I smiled a little sadly. Because to him, the right decision was clearly marked by Roman writing, and to me, that might no longer be so.

* * *

The week was ugly.

I didn’t know what to do.

If I didn’t go with Jeremy, was I giving up? Or was going tantamount to chasing rainbows? Were the only people who found pots of gold those who sat by a river for months on end and mined it?

I wanted to talk to Mike about it.

I wanted to badly enough that my heart ached, that my head spun, that I picked up the phone a dozen times and wondered and worked myself into a fit. I talked to Cam, of course, but she just wanted me to do what would make me happy, and I had no idea what that was. I couldn’t talk to Jeremy and I wasn’t close enough to any of my other professors.

But I didn’t talk to Mike, because I already knew what I wanted to hear from him. I wanted a reason not to go with Jeremy, because if I wasn’t canvassing Ireland looking for a site, it would be much easier for me to go to New York and stay there until the next field season. And if I was in New York, maybe I could see Mike. Because even if we couldn’t be together because he needed someone who didn’t only see the end of things—he deserved someone who didn’t only see the end—maybe we could be friends.

But I didn’t want to make my decision about Kilkarten or Ivernis if it was really me making a decision about Mike.

The night before my flight home, I went to the pub with everyone. The amount of warmth that washed over me when I looked at these people almost drowned me, almost made me drown myself by turning into a blubbering mess. Instead, I cheered and toasted and drank down pints poured.

Paul dropped down beside me. “So I guess we won’t be seeing you around here anymore.”

“Why?” I swirled the dregs of my pint. “Because I’m just going to follow Jeremy?”

“Aren’t you?”

“I don’t know. Do you still talk to Lauren?”

He shrugged and looked away. “We were just having some fun.”

“Don’t give me that.”

He shrugged. “She lives in the States, I’ll be back in France for school. And we never talked much, so it would be pointless to keep in touch.”

“Direct quote, huh?”

He made a face and waved down Finn for another pint. “Since we’re both sad and lonely, maybe we should keep each other company tonight.”

I swatted the back of his head hard enough that his nose hit his glass. “Don’t be gross.”

He laughed, and then pinned me with those serious black eyes. “You two were good together, you know.”

“I know.”

“So what happened?”

“I told him I didn’t believe in forever. And he interpreted that as not believing in now.”

“You’re joking.”

I put my drink down and stared at all the rows of colorful bottles. “I’m not going to go with Jeremy. I’m not going to keep looking for Ivernis. I’m staying here.”

“That’s grand.”

My lip started to wobble. I’d wanted Ivernis for so long, but it wasn’t real. Or maybe it was, but so was this. What if Jeremy found Ivernis and I’d left?

But there was so much here I wanted.

I wiped away streaking tears. “I’m sorry. I never used to cry before I met Mike.”

Paul regarded me with frank terror. “Come on, then. Let’s get you to Aunt Maggie.”

She made me tea and gave me shortbread, and I felt better in minutes. I curled up on the faded couch in the fading light and imagined two men I’d never met playing here as boys.

Maggie sat down across from me. “I fell in love with Brian when we were fifteen years old. I thought we were soul mates.”

“But you weren’t.”

She regarded me with frank surprise. “Weren’t we?”

Oh. Foot in mouth. “I guess I just assumed—since you both married other people—”

“I never loved Patrick. Poor Patrick. Maybe he would have been happy with someone else.”

“But I don’t understand why you didn’t follow Brian. If you loved him, and he loved you. I mean, I know you were mad that he went off and that he spent all that money—but if you loved him—what was your reason?”

She sighed. “He destroyed my dream. That’s not easy to let go of.” When I just stared at her, she went on. “I’d started up a library and I agreed to let him take a loan out against it. Which he never paid back, so the bank foreclosed on the center.” She shook her head. “I loved him, but he was a mad one. Ruined his family. Ruined me. Sunk all his money into a cause but never knew when to stop, and ended up running from the gardaí to America. Left Patrick to clear everything up. Which he did, credit to him.”

“He sounds—” A little like me. “Like a jerk.”

She raised a brow. “Don’t most people, when they’re so single-minded in following their dreams?”

I blushed.

She shook her head. “There’s a difference between having a dream and never waking up.”

* * *

Jeremy drove me to the airport. I cleared my throat. I felt like I was breaking up with him. “I’ve been thinking about Kilkarten. And it’s a really hard decision, but I’m going to be working on my thesis for the next few years, and I think the best thing to do is to work on this site. And it’s something I find really interesting, and I really like the community here, and...yeah. That’s what I’m thinking. And doing.”

He was silent a long time. “I know.”

My head shot up. “You do?”

“You’re in love with him.”

I turned slowly. “Jeremy. That’s not why.”

“Yes, it is. Subconsciously, you’re hoping he’ll come back, and you’ll be tied together by this place.” He let out a long sigh. “I didn’t want to lose you like this.”

I kept shaking my head. “That’s not why.”

He slanted me a disbelieving glance.

And that’s when I saw it. I was just like him. He couldn’t see what he didn’t want to see. He couldn’t see that people had other reasons, and they were fine reasons, even if he didn’t agree with them. To him, I would always be the student who left because of her ex-boyfriend. The girl who traded Ivernis for a boy, not the person who gave up an intangible dream for something real. “I hope you find it.”