****
Corin didn't sleep well again that night, too keyed up with thoughts of his impending doom. It also didn't help that at some point around dinner, he'd realized that Rafferty had pulled his spirit energy out—like the demons did, at night, when no one else was awake. He'd spent a few hours fretting about whether they could drain him completely before finally falling into a fitful sleep.
He wasn't sure whether the demons had shown up; his dreams had been too chaotic for him to tell whether he was dreaming or awake the entire night. It certainly felt like he hadn't slept a wink, and even Alan had commented on how terrible Corin looked.
Corin made himself eat another spoonful of the tasteless porridge that was being served for breakfast. He wasn't particularly hungry, but he wasn't stupid enough to think skipping a meal would do anything other than make him feel worse. He glanced towards the door to the dining hall again, wondering when Rafferty would show with the head priest to pull more of them out.
He wouldn't be able to talk to Rafferty, not with another priest around, and Corin definitely didn't want to draw any attention to himself. Drawing attention to himself might cause another priest to see whatever it was that Rafferty saw that made him realize Corin had a lot of spirit energy.
If Rafferty wasn't leading him on, that was. Corin had no idea what to believe. Rafferty seemed sincere, seemed like he was telling the truth about the sacrifice. What if it wasn't true? What if he was working with the demons instead, trying to break them free? What if he wanted Corin's energy for his own purposes instead of to block the demons?
Corin didn't know, and he didn't know how to figure out if Rafferty was lying or not. If he went to another priest and Rafferty had been telling the truth, then Corin would probably be killed sooner rather than later. If he didn't, and Rafferty had been lying… Well, who knew what would happen then. Besides Rafferty, that was.
As though summoned by his thoughts, Rafferty chose that moment to appear in the doorway. Corin hastily jerked his gaze away, back to his bowl of porridge and cup of tea. His cheeks had to be red, and Corin hoped no one noticed because he didn't have an explanation for that.
Rafferty listed off seven names—Corin's omitted, as he'd promised. Corin frowned, wondering why they'd picked more people that day. Corin glanced at the doorway again, somewhat startled to meet Rafferty's gaze. He looked as tired as Corin felt; his face was cheerless and listless. Even his robe was mussed and wrinkled, as though he'd slept in it and had only just woken.
Looking away, Corin forced himself to eat more quickly. If Rafferty and the high priest—Tennyson, Corin recalled from his conversation with Rafferty the previous day—were there, then it wouldn't be long before the priest in charge of them came to hand out assignments.
Corin ended up assigned to clearing off the roof again. The priest who ordered him up there didn't say what for, as he had last time, but why else would he be cleaning the roof if not for a ceremony? At least the task left him unsupervised and alone, which would let him take it nice and slowly and maybe even catch a nap in a sunlit corner. It wouldn't be particularly comfortable considering the roof wasn't especially padded, but it was better than nothing.
The roof was accessible from four points throughout the monastery. A narrow set of stairs wound upwards through the monastery to each access. Corin climbed up slowly, taking his time and trying not to speculate what kind of ceremony the priests would be conducting on the roof within the next few days. It was an exercise in futility, especially as his mind had already decided that it was going to be the ceremony where he'd be sacrificed to beat back the demons.
What would they do with his body? What had they done with the bodies of previous sacrifices? Maybe they were eaten whole by the demons. Sacrifice of body and energy, perhaps. Corin shook his head, trying to dislodge the unpleasant thoughts as he reached the top of the stairs. Shoving open the door, Corin stepped outside into the sunlight.
There were clouds in the sky, scattered, white and fluffy. It was chilly, the last remnants of winter clinging to the breeze that scattered Corin's hair across his face. Shoving it out of his eyes, Corin stepped out onto the roof and pulled the access door shut behind him. It was a strange roof—most roofs were slanted to let rain and snow slide off them instead of building up. This roof was flat, likely because it was needed for ceremony space.
It required more upkeep, but it wasn't like the priests cared since they weren't the ones sweeping away snow or leaves. There was a low wall around the edges of the roof, barely reaching up to Corin's knee. It was slotted every foot or so to give rain and melted snow someplace to go. The roof itself was made up of interlocking octagon-shaped tiles. Corin didn't understand how that worked without leaking, but he also didn't care, so long as it worked.
The roof didn't look so terrible, Corin thought, rolling his eyes. There were a few dead leaves here and there, but not so much that it warranted another sweeping. He shouldn't have been surprised. The priests were always giving them tasks that didn't actually need to be done. No wonder no one questioned that a handful of them were being made to clean the same room over and over again.
Maybe that was why they kept making Corin and the others redo tasks that hadn't yet been undone. To make it seem less strange when they tested everyone in the same way. Or maybe to keep them all busy, Corin conceded. There were more servants than the priests or monastery warranted, but letting them have a day off now and again—sermon days didn't count—wouldn't teach them humility and austerity.
Half-heartedly pushing a few leaves towards the edge of the roof with his broom, Corin paused when he caught sight of something glowing. Frowning, Corin circled around the glowing spot on the roof. One of the octagon-shaped tiles was emitting a faint green light, only barely visible when he shadowed it with the broom.
Corin swept over the tile a few times with the broom, but the tile still glowed. It didn't do anything else, and Corin stared at it, perplexed. It hadn't done that the last time he'd been up there. He was sure of that; it had been cloudy that day. A glowing tile would have stuck out like a sore thumb.
Letting the broom fall to the rooftop, Corin circled around the tile so that it was in his shadow and he could see the faint glow again. Curious, he inched closer. The tile continued to glow and continued to do nothing. Giving into his curiosity, Corin knelt on the rooftop, keeping a very small distance between the tile and himself. Was this like Rafferty's magic, when he'd turned the glass dark? Corin hesitated, and then reached out and tentatively touched the glowing tile.
Nothing happened. Corin sighed, sitting back. What had he expected? For it to reach out and bite him? He desperately needed to get more sleep before he got any more stupid. Maybe he should take a nap before he started cleaning off the roof. That sounded like a good idea. The towers on each end of the monastery provided nice quiet corners out of the wind that were ideal for taking a nap.
Corin pushed himself to his feet slowly, yawning. A cloud passed over the sun, slowly blocking out the sunlight, and Corin made a face, glancing up at the sky and willing the cloud to move quickly so he could have the sun back. Looking back down at the roof, Corin froze, his eyes widening.
More than the single tile were aglow. It was one of a handful that glowed at the center of a circle of glowing tiles—a circle that Corin was standing in the middle of. Scrambling back, Corin removed himself from the circle as quickly as he could. He didn't know what the circle was for, but circles and ceremonies and demons didn't make for a good combination.
The minute he was out of the circle, the tiles all stopped glowing. Corin took a ragged breath, staring at the rooftop for a long moment. He was going crazy. Corin debated a moment, and then took a step forward. The tiles slowly started to glow again, and Corin hastily took a step back.
Something else to ask Rafferty about, Corin decided, wondering when he'd get the chance. He didn't cross paths with Rafferty normally. He mostly saw Rafferty from a distance. Rafferty might seek
him out, or he might not, considering the way they'd left things the previous day. No, Rafferty would probably only come to get him once everything was ready for his spell casting .
Rubbing a hand across his face, Corin eyed the broom. He'd left it in the center of the circle of glowing tiles. He was too awake to sleep now, but was he willing to venture into the circle to fetch the broom and get to work clearing the rooftop? It was that or return to the supply closet and fetch another. He'd have to sweep off that section of the roof at some point, anyway.
Corin glanced up at the sky again, noting that the cloud blocking the sun was nearly past. He'd wait until the sun came out again. If he couldn't see the glowing tiles, they weren't there, right? At least they didn't seem harmful, but Corin couldn't shake the idea that the glowing tiles were a prelude to his potential sacrifice, no matter how innocuous the glowing tiles seemed.
He cleared the roof relatively quickly then retreated to the farthest tower on the roof, even though it wasn't in the sunlight and would get cold quickly. Tucking himself into the corner where the tower met the roof, Corin closed his eyes and did his best to ignore the chill seeping through the stone behind him.
Corin woke suddenly with a fright, flailing wildly. He landed a solid blow to the shadow hovering above him, subsiding when the shadow yelped in pain. Blinking a few times to clear his vision, Corin stared wide-eyed at Rafferty. The sun was much lower in the sky, Corin noticed. He'd slept clear through the afternoon and almost into the evening, and he shuddered, wondering what would have happened if he'd been out and about after night fell.
He was getting as superstitious and paranoid as the rest of the servants, Corin thought, and then remembered it was for good reason.
"Sorry," Corin mumbled as Rafferty stepped back, holding one hand to the shoulder where Corin had thumped him.
"It's fine," Rafferty said, though he still looked faintly surprised Corin had hit him. "Are you all right? You seemed to be having a nightmare."
Corin frowned, trying to remember, but the only thing he could recall was waking up and hitting Rafferty. "I don't remember."
Rafferty nodded, his brow furrowing pensively. "Come on, we need to get inside."
Corin took the hand Rafferty offered, stumbling to his feet awkwardly. He ached from sleeping sitting up. He was also very, very cold. Hunching his shoulders against the breeze—even colder now than it had been earlier—Corin snatched up the broom and followed Rafferty towards the nearest door to the monastery.
"Why are you here?" Corin asked, and cringed because that sounded terrible, like he didn't want to see Rafferty. "I mean, how did you know I was up there?"
"Armin mentioned you were working on the roof, and I noticed you weren't at dinner," Rafferty said, his voice echoing oddly in the stairwell. "It's not safe out at night."
"Is it safe inside at night?" Corin asked sourly, wondering if there was any difference.
"Safer," Rafferty said, shrugging one shoulder. The stairs were dimly lit through small windows along the stairwell, and Rafferty was only a shadowy form in front of Corin. "You missed dinner, but there's nothing to be done about that now."
Corin didn't reply to that; there was nothing to say. If it was past dinner, then he needed to go to his room for the night. After sleeping all afternoon, there was no way he was going to sleep, which meant he was going to lie awake in the pitch black, listening to Alan and Mavir sleep and waiting for the demons to show up and pull out more of his energy.
"I had questions," Corin blurted out as they reached the first landing. The stairs took a sharp turn left, and Rafferty paused, glancing down the stairs before turning to Corin.
"About…" Rafferty began, but trailed off, not completing his sentence. His eyes narrowed, but not at Corin, and he abruptly started down the stairs again. "Follow me."
Corin glanced over his shoulder, but there was nothing there. He didn't even feel like he did when the shadows were around. Rafferty was taking the stairs much more quickly, and Corin hastened to catch up to him. About halfway down the tower, Rafferty stopped abruptly and opened a door, revealing a hallway. It was lit, unlike the lower levels where Corin's room was. Candles were set in holders every six feet or so, supplementing the dim twilight that spilled in from the windows along one side of the hall.
"Quickly," Rafferty said, an edge to his voice that Corin didn't like. Rafferty walked swiftly down the hall, half a stride from outright running. Corin followed, not looking around worriedly only because he had to push himself to keep up with Rafferty.
They passed a handful of small, narrow hallways before Rafferty finally turned down one. It was narrower and darker than the main hallway. There were candles lining the walls, but they were more widely spaced and seemed to throw less light. Rafferty didn't pause, heading down the hallway at the same fast clip. Corin's stomach flipped uneasily as they moved further into the gloomy hallway.
Rafferty didn't seem to notice, and Corin crossed his arms defensively over his chest, trying not to think about what was lurking in the shadows. Rafferty stopped suddenly, looking up and down the hallway once before lifting his hand to the door in front of him. He held his palm an inch away from the door. Corin watched, but nothing happened.
Dropping his hand, Rafferty opened the door and stepped into a dark room. Corin hesitated, but then scowled at himself. He wasn't afraid of the dark, and he wasn't going to start being afraid now—even if there were things in the dark to be afraid of.
Rafferty shut the door behind him and ignited a flash of green light around the doorframe. It was the same color as the tiles on the roof had been, and Corin stepped away from the light, startled. It faded quickly, gone before Corin blinked, and Rafferty brushed by Corin into the depths of the room. Corin could hear him shuffling things around, but there wasn't enough light to see what he was doing.
The unease was gone, Corin realized, shifting his weight from one foot to another while he waited for Rafferty to do or say something. Across the room, Rafferty lit a candle. Flickering light revealed the room to be a bedroom. It was about the size of the room Corin shared, but much nicer. Instead of a pallet, there was a real bed frame. There were multiple blankets stacked on the bed, and the pillow looked like it had five times the filling that Corin's did.
A dark colored rug covered most of the floor. It was circular in shape, the color impossible to tell in the dim light from the candle. Rafferty was standing at a wide writing desk, lighting a second candle by holding it to the flame of the first. The top of the desk was covered in scraps of paper and books that were stuffed with yet more pages.
The room had a window, too, Corin saw. It was covered by a dark curtain that blocked any hint of light from outside. Not that there would be much light, Corin thought, and he tried not to worry about how he'd get to his room after Rafferty answered his questions. He'd deal with that when he had to.
"What questions did you have?" Rafferty asked, setting the second candle back into its holder.
"How do you know I have a lot of spirit energy?" Corin asked, trying to remember what the other question was. He could ask Rafferty about the glowing tiles on the roof, but that hadn't been the question he'd thought of earlier.
"I can see it," Rafferty said, as though that made perfect sense. He stepped away from the writing desk, crossing the room to the bureau that was tucked against the bed. "Make yourself comfortable. You're going to be here a while."
Corin hesitated, then obstinately crossed the room to the bed and sat down there instead of the chair by the writing desk. It brought him closer to Rafferty, but the mattress was thick and soft, and Corin wanted the comfort. "Why can you see it?"
"This isn't the monastery where I was inducted," Rafferty said, pulling open one of middle drawers on the bureau and rooting around inside it. "I studied at a cathedral in Thoeri. They taught us how to use spirit energy in more than the few ways they use it here."
"So you cast a spell to see it?" Corin interpreted. "And that's
why you know the other spell to seal the demons?"
"Right," Rafferty said, straightening. He tossed something—a small bag—at Corin, and Corin reached up and caught it reflexively. "Help yourself."
Corin pulled open the drawstrings on the bag somewhat warily. He rolled his eyes at himself when he realized it was filled with small bits of dried fruit. Deciding it was better not to look a gift horse in the mouth and ask why Rafferty had food in his dresser drawers, Corin said, "Thanks."
"You'll have to spend tonight here," Rafferty said, shutting the drawer. "It's too dark to walk the hallways now."
It was warmer in Rafferty's room, Corin thought, and he wouldn't have to listen to Mavir's snores. He was still wary of Rafferty's intentions, but he doubted Rafferty would kill him before whatever it was he needed Corin's help for.
"The demons can't get in here, so you'll be fine," Rafferty continued, sitting down on the other end of the bed. "What else did you want to know?"
"How can the demons not get in here?" Corin asked, though in retrospect, that was probably obvious. Magic. It did explain why the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach had disappeared when he'd walked through the doorway.
"It's another spell. It takes a lot of time and energy to set, which is why it can't be done everywhere," Rafferty said, offering a faint smile that was barely visible in the candlelight from across the room. "If we don't end up arrested, I can show you some of the spells. You should be able to use them with the amount of energy you have."
"Why don't the other priests here know the spells you do?" Corin asked, curious. "I mean, you learned in the city, but why don't they ask you to show them? Especially the one where you can see energy. That seems like it would be a lot easier than an apple."
"They don't care," Rafferty said flatly. "If they cared about casting better spells, they'd do what I suggested without me having to sneak around and do it behind their backs."
"Oh." That made a certain amount of sense, Corin supposed. He ate some of the dried fruit slowly, trying not to scarf it down rudely. He was hungry for the first time in a while. Maybe having the demons trapped outside the room helped his appetite?
"I'm sorry," Rafferty said, abruptly breaking the silence. Corin froze, wondering what Rafferty was apologizing for—and if he was apologizing in advance. "About yesterday. I shouldn't have brought your sister into it."
"If it's true, it's true," Corin said, shrugging. He snuck a glance at Rafferty, flushing when he realized Rafferty was staring at him. "I could've handled it better."
"You handled it pretty well, considering everything I dumped on you," Rafferty said, and Corin's heart twisted at the melancholy look that stole across Rafferty's face. "I wish I could do it without your help."
"At least you're asking," Corin said, shrugging awkwardly. "They weren't going to ask before they sacrificed me." He ate another bit of dried fruit before he could say anything as stupid as that.
"True enough," Rafferty said, but his voice was hollow, as though he didn't quite believe what he was saying. "Did you want to know anything else?"
"Um." Corin frowned in thought, trying to remember what else he'd wanted to know that morning. "Oh, right. When I can feel the demons, that's them pulling out my energy?"
"Yes and no," Rafferty said, sliding down the bed closer to where Corin was sitting. "Hold out your hand."
Corin did so with only a small amount of hesitation, his cheeks heating when he remembered what happened the last time Rafferty had taken his hand. Rafferty didn't touch him, but held his hand out over Corin's so that there was about an inch of space separating them. He frowned in concentration, his brow furrowing, and Corin almost jumped as the uneasy, unsettled feeling flooded through him.
"Your energy reacts when there's a demon nearby," Rafferty said, his voice quiet and almost lyrical when he spoke. "It's pulled to the surface, and the sensation you feel is that reaction. They're not pulling your energy out of you, but they're pulling it to the surface, so to speak."
"So they can't take it?" Corin asked, dropping his voice to match Rafferty's.
"Not as they are now," Rafferty said, sitting up straight and dropping his hand to his lap. "In a few more days they might be strong enough. We'll do the binding spell before then."
"When?" Corin asked, ignoring the way his voice wavered on the question. A few days? That didn't sound good, and what if Rafferty underestimated? Corin didn't really want to know what it would be like when the demons could actually take his energy instead of only attracting it.
"Tomorrow night, if I can manage it," Rafferty said, running a hand through his hair. "The following morning, if not."
Corin nodded, hoping that was soon enough. He set aside the bag of dried fruit, not hungry any longer. "What happens when you cast the spell? What do I have to do for it?"
Rafferty hesitated then stood. He unfastened his priest's cloak, swinging it off his shoulders and dropping it on the bed. He was wearing trousers and a thin, white shirt beneath it, and Corin swallowed hard, his mind immediately remembering the rush of heat Rafferty had kicked off with his touch the previous day.
Corin watched as Rafferty crossed the room again, turning when he reached the far wall. He knelt next to the rug, rolling it up and across the room. The floor was glowing faintly, barely visible even in the dim light of the room. It was nothing like the pattern on the roof, which seemed to have been a random selection of tiles.
The pattern on the floor of Rafferty's room was done completely in shapes. Jagged slashes, random swirls, and interconnecting lines were all contained within a thin circle that glowed more brightly than the rest of the… whatever it was.
"It's a spell circle. You'll stand on one side," Rafferty gestured to a blank spot close to the window, "and I will stand here." Rafferty hesitated then stood, dusting his hands off on the front of his trousers. "We'll both have to cut ourselves to open a path to our energy. Then I'll cast the spell, and that will be it."
"How much of a cut?" Corin asked, frowning. Rafferty held up his hand, spacing his thumb and forefinger a few inches apart.
"It won't have to be deep," Rafferty said, crossing the room to the writing desk. He skirted around the circle, taking care to not step on the lines of the circle despite how much space they took up. It stretched nearly from one side of the room to the other. Corin made himself look away, but the room was still filled with the unearthly glow. Would he ever get used to it? Then again, hopefully he wouldn't have to.
"What happens after the spell is cast?" Corin asked. "It'll have to be renewed still, right?"
Rafferty nodded, picking up one of the candles. He blew out the other, but the light in the room didn't seem to dim. "The head priest can't argue with me after I prove that the spell works. It will need to be cast each year or so, but casting the spell is better than what they do now."
Corin accepted that, wondering why it seemed like Rafferty wasn't telling him something. It all seemed logical, and Rafferty didn't seem shifty or like he was trying too hard to sell Corin a lie. He was matter-of-fact about the ceremony, about the demons, and about the priests. He was probably reading too much into it all, Corin decided. The lack of sleep, not eating well, having to suddenly reconcile that demons were real… well, it was no wonder he felt off kilter.
Rafferty set the candle down on top of the bureau, the light highlighting the melancholy look on his face. It was the same look he'd had when Corin had seen him that one time on the roof when Rafferty had been standing at the top of one of the towers. It was a sad look, more wrenching than the look Moori had worn when the miller's son had broken her heart last summer.
"Why are you sad?" Corin asked, the words coming out before he could think twice about asking such a personal question.
Rafferty stepped back, out of the immediate range of the candlelight. He didn't answer, and Corin regretted saying anything. Why would Rafferty confide in him? He'd barely been speaking to Corin for two days and only because he had to. If
Corin didn't have the energy that Rafferty needed, Rafferty would have been ignoring him as he had the previous few months. That thought hurt, but Corin tried to ignore it.
"It's a long story," Rafferty said, his voice quiet. He sounded exhausted, his voice flat, as if he was tired. He skirted around the bureau, a shadowy shape in the candlelight as he moved over to the rug. He unrolled it slowly, covering the glowing spell circle again. Once he reached the other side, he paused, still kneeling on the edge of the rug.
Corin bit his lip, wishing again that he'd kept his mouth shut. Nothing good ever came from opening his mouth. He should have known that by now; it was what had gotten him in trouble at home, more often than not, and it was what had gotten him in trouble when he'd first arrived at the monastery, too.
"I grew up around here," Rafferty said, climbing to his feet. He brushed off the knees of his trousers, walking across the rug towards the bed where Corin sat. "It's a little village to the west of here, though I haven't been back in a few years."
Corin bit back his curiosity, waiting for Rafferty to continue. Why had Rafferty been sent to the city to be trained, if he was local? Maybe it was standard practice, Corin decided. It wasn't as though he was well versed in how priests were trained.
"I had a sister," Rafferty said, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He was looking at the rug, and the candle on the bureau highlighted the profile of his face. Corin curled his fingers around the edge of the bed, swallowing hard. Had. Rafferty had had a sister. "We were both tapped to come to the monastery the same year, even though I was a year younger than her.
"It was obvious from the start they wanted me as a priest. I didn't care one way or the other; it was become a priest or go back and work a farm for the rest of my life. Catria encouraged me to go with the priests. She thought I would be happier here, that I'd never have to worry about being fed if we had a bad crop year. So I did."
"What happened?" Corin asked quietly, almost dreading the answer.
"She had more spirit energy than I did. I had enough that they decided I would make a good priest, but she had enough to bind the demons," Rafferty said. His voice was hollow and he sat tensely, as though he expected Corin to scold him. "I don't know if they didn't realize she was my sister, but they told me the day after, showed me the secret, told me no one would think twice about the story about her running off."
"Oh, god," Corin breathed, wondering if the priests had really been that stupid. No wonder they'd sent Rafferty to the city. "Why did they let you live?"
"I didn't tell them," Rafferty said, his head dropping. "I pitched a fit over them killing her, but they assumed it was only because they'd killed her, not because she was my sister. I don't know how they didn't know or how they never figured it out, but it probably saved me. If they'd known… they probably would have killed me, too, and said Catria and I had run off together."
"And they won't listen to you now, either," Corin said, connecting the dots. The priests didn't like Rafferty because he was threatening how they did things—and had since the beginning. "I'm sorry."
"I'm going to fix it," Rafferty said fiercely. "I'm going to make sure they don't do it again. No one believed me when I told them what they do out here. They hide it so well, and no one in the city who is strong enough to realize what they're doing is willing to travel out here to see for themselves."
"What if they don't listen?" Corin asked, digging his fingers into the mattress. "What if they ignore you and continue to do it their way?"
"I'll make them listen," Rafferty said darkly. He sat up abruptly, glancing at Corin. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be putting you in the same position they put me."
"My sister is safe at home," Corin said, shaking his head. "It's not the same thing."
"It's blackmail. You help me, or both of you die. How is that any better?" Rafferty asked bitterly, his mouth turning down.
"You're not trying to kill me," Corin said, rolling his eyes. He knew Rafferty didn't see it. It was too dark, and Rafferty wasn't looking at him in any case. "You're trying to keep me from dying, which I do appreciate. I'm sorry I've been… hesitant."
Rafferty snorted, finally lifting his head to look at Corin. "You've had good reason."
"I'd help, even if I wouldn't die if I didn't," Corin said. He reached out and set his hand on Rafferty's shoulder, hoping to comfort or reassure Rafferty in some small way. Heat shot down his arm, unsettlingly close to the way Rafferty's touch had seared through him the previous day. Rafferty jumped, and Corin pulled his hand back, his face heating. "Why does that keep happening?"
"I don't know," Rafferty said, lifting his hand to touch his shoulder where Corin had touched him. "I've never had that happen before."
"Me neither," Corin said. He needed to keep his hands to himself so it didn't happen again. Crossing his arms, Corin stared at the rug, wondering if the ceremony would be as simple as Rafferty described. Probably. Rafferty did seem to know what he was doing, and Corin believed his story about his sister. It made sense, and Rafferty hadn't been faking his heartbreak.
"You can share the bed with me," Rafferty said abruptly, and Corin's fading flush flared back to life. Surely Rafferty didn't mean what Corin thought he'd meant. "You can't go back to your room now, and I'm not going to make you sleep on the floor."
Corin nodded. He didn't feel tired, but Rafferty hadn't slept the afternoon away. He'd probably been working on the casting circle all day, and he'd need his rest, especially if he was going to get the spell casting done for the following evening.
Standing, Corin pulled off his boots one at a time and tucked them next to the foot of the bed so neither he nor Rafferty would trip over them in the morning. Rafferty was pulling off his boots as well; they were tall, knee-high affairs that were in much better condition than Corin's ankle boots. Corin climbed into the bed, ignoring the part of his mind that insisted on focusing on the way Rafferty's touch affected him and wondering if Rafferty's gold-blonde hair was as soft as it looked, and whether his mouth was as malleable—
Corin cut that thought short, tucking himself against the wall and leaving plenty of room for Rafferty to lie down without touching him. Rafferty joined him a second later, sliding under the blankets and carefully arranging them so they covered both Corin and himself. It was a little uncomfortable, tucked against the wall on a third of the bed, but it was leaps and bounds above the thin pallet in his room or the hard stone of the castle roof.
There would also be no wandering demons, Corin realized. He was sharing a comfortable bed, safe from demons and away from Mavir's snores… and he was too awake to take advantage of it. Rafferty sat up to snuff the candle, and then lay back down, settling down quickly. He didn't say anything, and Corin debated briefly whether he should wish Rafferty a good night's sleep before deciding to keep quiet.
Rafferty seemed to fall asleep quickly, his breathing evening out into a slow, steady pattern. He didn't snore, which was nice, but it didn't help Corin fall asleep. He stared at the ceiling, slowly relaxing as Rafferty continued to stay still and quiet and asleep. What would happen after they bound the demons again? Somehow, Corin didn't think it was going to go the way Rafferty obviously assumed it would. The priests wouldn't take kindly to his interfering in their established ceremony again.
Would they kill him anyway? Possibly, though if Rafferty used up Corin's spirit energy in the ceremony, it wasn't as though it would do them any good. Perhaps they'd kill someone else? No, probably not. The demons would be bound; there would be no reason for them to kill anyone else to bind them. At minimum, they'd probably send Rafferty away again and make Corin's remaining months at the monastery miserable.
It would be worth it. Not only because Corin wouldn't die, though that was a decided plus. He could warn Moori and convince her to move away to somewhere they used Rafferty's method to seal the demons. He'd also be able to help Rafferty, and Corin couldn't help but think that a plus, even though it was stupid to think of it that way.
Shifting slowly, so as to not wake Rafferty, Corin rolled onto his side. The room was pitch black, like his room often was, but it was a comfortable darkness. It didn't chill him, didn't make him worry if he'd wake in the morning. It was also warmer, which probably helped with that perception.
Pillowing his head on his arm, Corin ignored the way his head was buzzing. He wasn't going to worry about the ceremony or the priests or the demons or Rafferty. It wouldn't do any good——he was still going to help Rafferty no matter the drawbacks. It was probably stupid to put all of his faith into a single person, but all the worrying in the world wasn't going to make Corin change his mind.
Playing with Shadows Page 4