Playing with Shadows



  Corin is nearly done with his term amongst the priests. In a matter of months, he'll be able to return home and leave his miserably days in the temple behind him. He's tired of lazy priests, and tired of stories of demon shadows that move of their volition.

  Then Corin starts to see things, and the priests begin to act strangle, and he begins to wonder … is he losing his mind, or are the shadows more than they seem?

  This story was written for the Love is Always Write event at the M/M Romance Group on GoodReads. It was written for Tori, inspired by the author letter she wrote. Be sure to check the group out, and enjoy the hundreds of other free stories available there.

  Playing with Shadows

  By Sasha L. Miller

  Published by Sasha L. Miller

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the publisher, except for the purpose of reviews.

  Edited by Samantha M. Derr

  Cover designed by Megan Derr

  This book is a work of fiction and as such all characters and situations are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is coincidental.

  Electronic Edition June 2012

  Copyright © 2012 by Sasha L. Miller

  Printed in the United States of America

  Playing with Shadows

  Sasha L. Miller

  Love is Always Write

  Eight months left. Corin turned to lie on his stomach, burying his face in the straw pillow. It smelled stale, exactly like it had when he'd first arrived at the monastery. The pallet he was trying to sleep on was thinner, letting the cold of the stone beneath it leach up through the thin layer of blanket and straw.

  It wasn't supposed to be pleasant, Corin reminded himself. The year's service was supposed to teach humility and respect for the priests, not be a pleasant vacation from home. The only things it had taught Corin so far were that he hated being cold and hated being hungry and he hated all of the priests.

  Well, most of the priests. He couldn't bring himself to hate Rafferty, even if Rafferty was the one who'd dragged him to the monastery. He'd hated Rafferty to begin with—and easily. Corin's village was usually skipped when the priests made their yearly rounds to check to make sure the villages surrounding the monastery were sending in their young men and women.

  It didn't matter that Corin's father was dead three years, leaving his mother and four sisters dependent on him working to survive. He didn't know how they were doing without him, and it made him angry all over again to think of it. He should have been there, not here. He should have been working for them, not for a bunch of stupid priests who thought they were god's gift to the world.

  Flipping again, Corin laid flat on his back, staring up into the dark of the tiny room. He could hear the two men he shared with; Alan was breathing even and steady, fast asleep, and Mavir was snorting quietly in his sleep. If he were home and unable to sleep, Corin would go for a walk until his mind shut off. Unfortunately, it was forbidden to walk the monastery after dark, so he was stuck here, listening to Alan and Mavir sleep and listening to his own thoughts until they drove him mad.

  Scowling, Corin tugged the thin blanket up over his shoulder, hoping to regain some of the warmth he'd lost in his tossing and turning. It was an exercise in futility; there was no getting warm, not unless he tried crawling in with Mavir or Alan, and he doubted they'd be happy with that. They never seemed cold, despite having the same thin pallet and blankets that Corin did.

  It didn't matter, Corin told himself, finally giving up. Sitting up, he pulled the blanket around his shoulders and shuffled back to lean against the wall behind him. The room was oppressively dark with absolutely no light to see by. They weren't allowed candles on the grounds it would encourage them to be up during the night. Add to that the lack of windows in their room—it was tucked inside the monastery, far from any exterior walls—and Corin couldn't see anything at all.

  A shiver crept down his spine, and Corin shifted uneasily. It was only the cold, Corin told himself, pulling the blanket tighter around his shoulders. The room seemed warmer, but that was only because he was no longer lying on the stone. Despite those assurances, Corin sat as still as he could until the feeling passed, slipping away as quickly as it came and leaving him feeling colder than ever.

  He really needed to start sleeping more, Corin decided, but he made no move to lie back down. Staring into the darkness, Corin debated breaking the rules and leaving. He wasn't sure he could make it to the door without tripping, though; the stones were uneven and hard to navigate in the daytime, let alone when he couldn't see a damn thing. There would be no leaving if he woke Alan or Mavir.

  Corin didn't really want to venture into the monastery in any case. It was a spooky place when he was allowed to walk about; he couldn't imagine it would be any better in the dark of night. He was better off staying there, pretending to sleep and thinking too much. He wanted to go home. He missed his family, everything from his mother's scolding when he did something she considered stupid to Elisa's fretting about what ribbon to put in her hair to attract the attention of the baker's boy.

  Shifting against the wall, Corin tried to distract himself. His thoughts immediately slipped to Rafferty. He didn't often see Rafferty since he was one of the priests who was sent out often on one errand or another. He saw him enough to know that the other priests didn't seem to like Rafferty much, though Corin hadn't figured out why. Rafferty did everything the rest of the priests did, didn't seem to slack in his duties.

  He was nicer to them and maybe that was why the other priests didn't care for him? He never seemed mean or to take joy in ordering Corin or the other servants to do some arduous task that didn't really need doing. Honestly, who needed to scrub all of the walls on a weekly basis? Stone walls, at that. Rafferty only ever asked them to do normal things, like scrubbing floors that were actually dirty.

  If Corin were being honest, it wasn't any of that which had changed his mind on Rafferty. It had been the day he'd been up on the roof. One of the other priests had ordered Corin to the roof to sweep away stray leaves and dirt for some sort of ceremony they were doing. Corin had had the roof half done, going nice and slow to enjoy the sunlight for the first time since he'd been dragged to the monastery when he'd seen Rafferty.

  Rafferty had been standing at the top of one of the towers, his priesthood cloak discarded. He was wearing a white shirt that billowed gently in the wind, and he'd been staring out across the kingdom, a melancholy look on his face. He'd looked so sad and lonely up there, all alone, and Corin had made the mistake of letting it get to him. Rafferty hadn't seen him, and Corin had hastily gotten back to work. When he'd finished, Rafferty was gone, but Corin hadn't been able to look at him the same way since.

  He should hate Rafferty, he really should, but Corin didn't. He looked as lonely and alone as Corin felt, trapped in the monastery with no way to leave. Corin would be arrested if he left before the year was up, and then he'd never see his family again. Rafferty … Corin didn't know much about the priesthood, but he expected it wasn't easy to walk away from. At least Corin would get to leave after a year; Rafferty would be stuck there forever.

  Yawning, Corin shifted, sliding down the wall without relinquishing his hold on the blanket. He let his head touch the pillow and then shut his eyes again, hoping to fall asleep before he worked his head into further circles.

  Eight months left. He could do this.