The Humming of Numbers by Joni Sensel

curving out as if for that purpose. “I’ve never been here at night, but I won’t be too scared with you here. I know we’re safe from people, at least.”
    â€œThis is a good hiding spot,” Aidan agreed. He took a deep breath, trying to ignore a sudden reluctance to be separated from her. “But I’m going to leave you here safe by yourself for a while. It will be dark soon, and I’ve got to find out what has happened at the abbey and see if it is wise for us to return yet.”
    â€œNo! Don’t leave me!”
    Her plea dug at him. He gritted his teeth, reminding himself she would be far safer here than with him.
    â€œIf the abbey’s secure,” he promised, “I’ll come back to get you.”
    â€œWhat if you meet them again in the woods? And what if you can’t find your way back in the dark? And what if the abbey’s not safe? They might see you coming!”

    Aidan dropped to his haunches before her. “Lana, I can’t just hide here with you, not knowing. I’ll—”
    â€œWhy not?”
    â€œBecause.” He floundered for a better answer, and added, “If the Norsemen are still here, the survivors and any of your father’s men who escaped will be mustering to fight back. They’ll need anyone they can get. Like me.”
    â€œYou’re a monk! What do you know about fighting?”
    â€œAs much as any other commoner,” Aidan said, pushing back a hot flush of defensiveness. “I’ll be back for you as soon as I can.”
    â€œBut—” She stopped. Aidan could read the question in her eyes anyway.
    â€œIf I don’t come back,” he replied gently, “you’d better wait another full day before you come look, or at least until you’re so hungry you don’t have any choice. They won’t stay forever.”
    â€œAidan!” The fright in her voice tore at his skin.
    â€œYou’ll be all right,” he told her, trying to convince both of them. Though his head assured him this plan was best, his heart argued. Feeling his determination waver, Aidan turned to duck out before it failed completely. He hoped the hawthorn gate would let him go more easily than it had admitted him.
    â€œWait. Take this.”
    When he looked back over his shoulder, she drew her
red yarn necklace over her head. The crossed twigs tied at its center were wound with a separate length of red wool.
    â€œYour cross? Why?”
    She rose to drape it over his head and tuck the bits of wood down the neck of his robe. Her touch, too familiar to be polite, made Aidan’s skin tingle. He jigged nervously.
    â€œIt is not just a cross,” she said, not meeting his eyes. “‘Tis my charm from the flying rowan I showed you outside. ’Twill help protect you. Are the oak leaves still here or did they fall out?” She patted his chest.
    Aidan opened his mouth to protest her motherly fussing, raising a hand to push hers away. Before he could, she found the leaves snagged in the wool of his robe. Her palm flattened there and she shifted closer, raising her eyes. Suddenly her touch didn’t feel so motherly. The hand Aidan had lifted to remove hers only curled around her fingers instead. He could feel his heart beating hard beneath both of their hands.
    â€œLana,” Aidan murmured, unsure what words would follow.
    â€œBe careful,” she said. She tipped her face down toward their hands, but he saw her cheeks bloom. “Come back.” Though she didn’t look up, an impish grin appeared through her blush. “You still have to teach me to read.”
    That grin was worse than her blush. Never in his life
had Aidan wanted to kiss someone so badly. He hadn’t had much practice, and the scant kissing he had tried in the past had brought him more guilty thrill than pleasure. It had felt a bit sloppy and dangerous, as if drool might intrude at any instant. Kissing Lana