Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 7

He'd figure something out; all Corin had to do was stay clear of it and not drink the wine.
    Knowing that and feeling it were two different things, however. Corin's stomach still wouldn't settle, and he had the uncomfortable feeling that someone was watching him, even after he left the library and headed back to the main parts of the monastery. Taking a deep breath to try and dispel the sensation, Corin wished fervently that the day would pass quickly, and he could get the ceremony done with and go back to feeling normal again.
    ****
    The day passed unbearably slowly. Corin ended up in the kitchen again, running errands for the cook, which helped keep him busy, but not busy enough that he stopped worrying. He didn't see Rafferty, didn't hear anything about it, and nothing seemed to have changed. Corin didn't feel right, however. He felt shaky, as if he'd been sick for weeks and was only now getting better. His stomach turned every time he smelled food, and he kept dropping things and tripping over his own feet.
    His arm felt fine at least, Corin thought, debating whether to skip going to the dining hall for dinner. The idea of eating anything was unpleasant, and sitting among a crowd of chattering people wasn't appealing either. He'd almost decided to head back to his room when he remembered Rafferty's instructions from that morning. Rafferty was supposed to pull him out of the hall so they could do the binding.
    Stifling a sigh, Corin trudged towards the dining hall. He could find a seat by the door, Corin decided, and wait for Rafferty there. Dinner, like breakfast, was typically served with tea. Maybe a cup of that would soothe his stomach, though Corin highly doubted it. He was sure it was some sort of lingering reaction to touching the apple, and Corin didn't want to know what was in the apple that had caused it.
    He did want to know how Rafferty had blocked it the first time Corin had touched the apple. He probably shouldn't want to know anything about his spirit energy or how to use it. It was dangerous and was too closely related to the demons, but it couldn't be all bad, could it? Rafferty seemed to be using it for good, and Corin wondered what all it could do and how it worked. Maybe when everything was over with, he could ask Rafferty to teach him.
    Entering the dining hall, Corin paused barely inside the doorway. The dining hall was much brighter than it usually was. There were extra candles scattered throughout the room, burning brightly. The room was warmer than usual, and everyone seemed louder as well. Corin frowned, rubbing his head. The scent of spiced meat was heavy in the air, and Corin turned to stare at the food tables.
    They never got meat, not unless it was cooked to death and spread thin through a stew or soup. There were platters of meat, however, alongside fruits and vegetables, rolls, and what looked to be some sort of dessert cakes. On either end of the serving tables sat a cask of wine, and Corin's blood ran cold. They drug the wine at dinner, wasn't that what Rafferty had said? It hadn't made sense—they never got wine, only tea—but now there was wine, which meant they were planning to kill him later that night.
    Where was Rafferty? Did he know? Suddenly, Tennyson pulling Rafferty back seemed much more sinister, and Corin hoped like hell that Rafferty was all right. Corin forced himself to walk over to one of the dining tables, sitting down without bothering to get anything to eat or drink. Rafferty had said the wine was spiked, but what was to keep them from spiking everything, just in case? There was no tea to be had, either, and Corin was positive he'd throw up anything he tried to eat.
    The uneasy feeling snaked up his spine, and Corin rested his arms on the table, then pillowed his head on top of his arms. He had to wait, to see if Rafferty showed up. If he didn't… Corin swallowed hard, ignoring the hubbub around him. If Rafferty didn't show, Corin would have to go find him. He'd check Rafferty's room, and if Rafferty wasn't there, he'd run. He had to at least warn Moori and keep her safe.
    Shutting his eyes, Corin focused on breathing, trying his best to ignore the chatter in the hall—louder than normal, likely because of the special drink and food—and the sour, uneasy sensation in the pit of his stomach that had been with him all day. It was stronger than ever, and Corin didn't know what that meant, only that he was sure it meant nothing good.
    Corin jumped, his heart