THE DOOR, THE KEY, AND THE KINGDOM
by Emily-Jane Hills Orford
GENRE: Arthurian Fantasy
Blurb:
Life is complicated enough when living in one era, but when Anne finds herself gravitating back in time to the sixth century, she’s not sure what to expect, or what to believe. Pulling the legendary Excalibur from its stoney sheath, she’s amazed at the power she possesses and the chance to make some things right for the post-Arthurian era.
Excerpt:
She remembered lying in bed with Excalibur tucked closely beside her, one hand loosely grasping its hilt, the ring making a loose connection, while the other hand patted the key where it lay on her chest. She had been tired. Exhausted. Asleep before she was fully settled under her coverings. Nothing was making sense.
A clank startled her from her musings. A lock disengaged and a creak pierced the vacuous tomb. For that was what the room signified. A tomb. Glancing toward the door, she noticed it open. Slowly. Two men, clad head to foot in white, marched into the room. She quickly tucked the key underneath the gown and clutched a fist around the ring, hoping the motion hadn’t attracted any attention.
“Let’s go, my Queen,” one of the men spoke, but both guffawed at the title of ‘queen’. “Dr. Abrecan awaits. And he doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
The men grabbed Anne underneath her arms and yanked her to her feet. “Where are you taking me?” she shrieked, trying to resist.
“Look, lady.” The same man who called her ‘queen’ gripped her arm more tightly. “We can either do this the easy way or the hard way. Your choice.”
There was no point in resisting. She wouldn’t find her answers in this tomb. Giving in, she allowed the men to usher her out into the hall. The lights were brighter, but the air was just as stale, just as sanitized. Looking right and left as she trod along with her escorts, she noticed door after door, much like the one she had passed through. Moans and shrieks pervaded the walls from beyond the doors. Other than the sounds, there was nothing to suggest any other human presence. She wasn’t even convinced that her escorts were human.
The men’s feet clomped along on the hard, linoleum floors; Anne’s feet, cushioned inside some sort of slipper, merely scuffled. Everything echoed. Sounds bounced off the walls, the floor and the ceiling. The hall stretched on and on, with no intersections or exits to suggest an escape route or any other route for that matter. It was merely one, very long, very empty hall.
They reached the end. There was a door. Not like the cell doors that she had passed. This one was more official. A larger window than the one that graced her door was labelled with the words: “Dr. Abrecan, Chief Psychiatrist.”
The man who spoke knocked.
“Enter.”
He turned the knob and pushed the door open, then pushed Anne inside before slamming the door firmly shut behind her. The room was exceedingly bright. More so than the hall. She blinked, keeping her stance where she had been left, allowing her eyes to accustom themselves to the new lighting. When she could see better, she glanced around the room, studying it, taking in every little detail. The men who escorted her were gone. At least, she believed they were. Though it was possible they merely stood on the other side of the door, on guard to prevent her from trying to escape.
She felt very much alone. But she wasn’t; not really. A man sat at the large desk at the far end of the room, a room lined with rows of filing cabinets on one side and shelves stocked with peculiar bottles and boxes with syringes sticking out the open ends. It was the bottles and syringes that concerned Anne. Who knew what this mad wizard had in mind for her!
“Come in, Anne.” The voice was Abrecan’s, only this one had an air of professionalism. Firm, concise, neither warm nor cold. It was the voice she expected to hear from any physician in the twenty-first century.
“Abrecan.” Anne refused to move.
“Dr. Abrecan to you, my dear.”
“Queen Anne to you, wizard.”
He quirked his eyebrow quickly, a glimmer of agitation showing in his eyes like a flash of lightning, brief and then it was gone. “Very well, Queen Anne,” he snapped the words with precision. “As you wish. Stand if you must. I would like to ask you some questions. First, do you know what year it is?”
Anne had a feeling she was being tricked. This was not the sixth century. But was it the twenty-first century? And, if so, when? At the time she left it? Taking a chance, she chose the last year she remembered, before she had found the door. “2019.”
Abrecan appeared satisfied. “Very good. Now, who is the Queen of England.”
Another trick? “Queen Elizabeth II.”
“Ah! Good! We are getting somewhere. So, you admit that you are not the Queen of England.”
“Not in this era,” Anne muttered, then realized she should have remained silent.
“Then, in what era are you queen?” Abrecan wrote something on the pad of paper in front of him before returning his gaze to Anne, tapping the pen on the desk. It hit the surface with an irritating, hypnotic patter. Anne focused hard to avoid its influence.
“You know full well, wizard.”
“I am not a wizard. Not here. Not now. I am a very respected doctor in the field of psychiatry. Now answer the question.”
It was Anne’s turn to snort. “Psychiatrist, my ass.”
“Fitting words to come from the mouth of a queen.”
Anne grasped her hands tight in a grip. The ring bit into the palm of her right hand. Resisting the urge to study her hand, to look at the precious ring, or to reach inside the neck of her gown to check on the key, Anne glared at her adversary. Her enemy. Her half-brother. Ugh! She hated the idea that she was related to this monster.
Abrecan grinned and returned the girl’s stare. “We couldn’t remove the ring.” He knew what she was thinking. Unsettling. But then again, Merlin always knew, too. A wizard’s gift. “And, yes, I can read your thoughts.” Nodding at the girl’s clenched hand, he continued in a voice barely audible, “I didn’t want to cut off the finger. Not yet. But I will need the ring soon. It appears that only you have the power to remove it. Another one of Merlin’s tricks, I suppose.” Shaking his head as if to clear the cobwebs from his thoughts, Abrecan broke the gaze and studied the notes on the desk in front of him. “Now answer my questions. In what era are you queen?”
He obviously couldn’t read all her thoughts, or he would know she had been thinking about the key.
Anne allowed the silence to impregnate the space. She closed her mind to thoughts that might hinder her attempt to take control. If she could take control. She had to believe that this wasn’t real, that there was a way to escape this nightmare. Finally, she answered, in a clear, determined voice, with head held high, her gaze every bit the queen that she was. “In your era, Wizard Abrecan. And, if you know what is good for you, then you will get down on bended knee and beg for my forgiveness.”
The wizard cackled with laughter. Stilted. Harsh. He slapped a hand on the desk to emphasize his humor and bellowed, “Right. And I suppose you want me to pledge allegiance to you, too. Am I right?”
Anne didn’t answer. She waited, allowing the silence to penetrate. Finally, “Of course. But first I demand some answers. Where am I, Abrecan? Where is this place? And what is it?”
“It’s a mental asylum, my dear. You have obviously been rather unbalanced for some time and you were brought here to be treated.”
“Brought here? Where is here? And treated for what?”
“This is the Rideau Regional Psychiatric Hospital in Grenadier Falls. You are being treated for schizophrenia.”
“What? I am not schizophrenic! If anyone is, it is you.” And she dramatically pointed a finger at the accusing man.
He merely snorted in response. “Now. Back to my questions. What era, girl? In what era are you queen?”
My Review:
After perusing the synopsis and admiring the cover of The Door, The Key and the Kingdom by Emily-Jane Hills Orford, I was eager to immerse myself in the tale and travel back in time with Anne as she transformed into Princess Anne.
I appreciated learning more about Anne and her origins. I also found it enjoyable to discover Merlin and Excalibur. The magical elements were delightful, especially as I witnessed Anne uncovering more about her abilities and just how formidable she has become since her journey into the past.
I don’t often comment on book covers, but I have to express that the cover of The Door, The Key and the Kingdom is stunning, intensifying my desire to read the book even more. That cover raises many intriguing questions about what lies within and the universe that has been crafted. Additionally, I must mention that the world-building was enchanting and thoroughly engaging.
I would suggest The Door, The Key and the Kingdom to anyone who delights in tales involving Merlin, Camelot, and, of course, magic. If The Door, The Key and the Kingdom piques your interest, then be sure to get a copy today for an unforgettable adventure!
About the Author:
Emily-Jane Hills Orford is a country writer, living just outside the tiny community of North Gower, Ontario, near Canada’s capital city of Ottawa. With degrees in art history, music and Canadian studies, the retired music teacher enjoys the quiet nature of her country home and the inspiration of working at her antique Jane Austen-style spinet desk, feeling quite complete as she writes and stares out the large picture window at the birds and the forest. She writes in several genres, including creative nonfiction, memoir, fantasy, and historical fiction.
Connect with Emily-Jane Hills Orford
Giveaway:
$10 Amazon/BN
1 comments:
Thank you for hosting me and my book.
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