Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 7

sounded crazy, and how would demons in the shadows make an apple appear and move and disappear?
    "I was probably imagining it," Corin said hastily. He didn't know what to think anymore. Was he crazy? Was Rafferty? He'd been dead set against the idea of shadow demons earlier that morning. Why was he now acting as if they were real?
    "The priests conduct a test when the barrier against the shadows starts to fail to gauge the strength of the spirit energy of each person in the building," Rafferty said, and Corin stared at him uncertainly, not sure what that had to do with Corin's backtracking. "We pick five or so people and have them each pick up a magical talisman."
    "Is that what you've been picking people for at breakfast?" Corin asked, connecting the dots.
    Rafferty nodded, stepping away from the window and towards the door. Corin watched him uncertainly, but Rafferty turned after a few paces and headed back towards the window. He didn't look happy, and Corin shifted in place, wishing he were back in the sermon hall cleaning candelabras. Well, perhaps not there, since the strange incident with the apple had happened there. The room he slept in wasn't safe, either—that was where the strange feeling happened. Was there anywhere Corin would be safe?
    "You've probably heard about it; that everyone is made to clean a certain desk in the room," Rafferty said, breaking into Corin's dismal thoughts. "The talisman is on the desk. It's obscured, in the shape of an apple."
    "You think it's related?" Corin asked, immediately feeling stupid for asking that. Of course Rafferty thought it was related. Why else would he have brought it up?
    "The barrier must be failing more quickly than I thought," Rafferty said quietly. He stopped pacing, coming to a stop by the window. Corin wasn't sure if he was supposed to have heard that. Rafferty didn't seem to expect an answer, staring out the darkened window as though all the answers were hidden somewhere in the landscape.
    "What does that mean?" Corin asked, wiping his sweaty palms on the front of his trousers.
    "They shouldn't be able to move objects or manifest them, whichever it was. The barrier is weaker than I realized, which means we don't have a lot of time," Rafferty said, his brow furrowing in thought.
    "So we have to… do the spell thing sooner?" Corin asked.
    "It takes a few days to prepare for the ceremony," Rafferty said. Corin jumped when Rafferty suddenly slammed his fist against the window pane. "Dammit!"
    "What?" Corin asked, taking another step back. He nearly tripped over the writing chair behind him, barely managing to right himself before he fell.
    "If Tennyson notices the barrier is failing, he'll step up the testing," Rafferty said. "I've been keeping you out of the selection since you're strong enough that they'll stop looking, but if he steps up the testing, they'll find you much more quickly."
    "Tennyson?" Corin asked, not placing the name. It was easier to focus on that instead of his impending death. If Rafferty was telling the truth and not spinning some elaborate lie. What would he gain from that, however? Rafferty didn't strike him as deceitful, but what if he was an excellent actor?
    "The head priest," Rafferty clarified. "I'll figure it out, don't worry."
    Corin scowled because the way Rafferty said that, it sounded as if he was completely dismissing Corin, as though Corin couldn't handle it. "What happens if I don't trust you to handle it? I could run off for real."
    "Then they'll kill someone else in your place," Rafferty said flatly, scowling at him. "And next year, when your sister comes for her turn serving here, they'll pick her. She's almost as strong as you are."
    Moori was two years younger than he was. Rafferty wasn't lying when he said she'd be required to serve the following year. So if he didn't go along with Rafferty's plan, the other priests would kill him. If he ran off, they'd kill someone else, and either way, Moori would die the following year. Clenching his fists, Corin glared at Rafferty. "Fine."
    "I didn't mean—" Rafferty started, stepping towards Corin.
    "Don't you have preparations to be making?" Corin asked caustically, wondering if he could make a dramatic exit or if whatever Rafferty had done to the door would prevent him from leaving.
    "Right," Rafferty muttered. He gave Corin a look like he wanted to say something else, but in the end, he only turned away, stepping up to the window and touching it. The darkness slid away