First novel: Chantry of the Hierophim

Most people who know me, know that I've been working on a number of novel ideas over the years.  Some have coalesced more than others.  I've been working on this particular one for about two years.  I've now made enough progress on it that I can announce this work will be my first publishing effort in the realm of fantasy fiction.

Please enjoy this excerpt from Chantry of the Hierophim (Copyright © 2019, E.J. OakLore, all rights reserved):

Hours later, Manu and I were still pouring over books, journals, and loose scrolls.   Having found nothing helpful so far, we had moved our search from the parlor to the study, where the rarest and a great many unmarked volumes were kept.

“Ugh,” I said, resting my head against a bookshelf.  “There must be a thousand unmarked books here.  How are we ever going to find what we’re looking for in time ... assuming it’s even here?”

“There’s only one way I know of,” Manu said.

“What’s that?”

“Keep doing what you’re doing,” he said with a smile, glancing my way.

Though I sighed heavily I was smiling inwardly.  I couldn’t help it.  It was the effect of his smile that did it to me.  Manu and I had known each other for many years.  In all that time I never really thought I’d have a chance with him.   He was so ... magnificent ... so talented ... so good-looking ... so intelligent!  Dare I admit I have always had a crush on him?  But I never acted on it, for I always felt I knew where I stood with him, which was nowhere apart from a plutonic acquaintance ... or friend, maybe?  Certainly not a romantic interest, though.  No, his attentions would certainly be drawn by a more spectacular specimen than me ... certainly a more magickal one.   Yet in the past day or so ... I find myself wondering, is he sending me signals?   He couldn’t actually be interested in me, could he?   I shook it off for the moment and pushed away from the bookshelf, resuming my search.

As I flipped through yet another volume written in yet another language I could not understand, I heard a familiar shuffling behind me.   I turned to see Seamus there, shuffling into the room.   His eyes were glazed over, almost zombie-like.   I’d never seen him quite that ... blank.   I’m guessing he must have just woken up.   “We haven’t found anything useful yet, Seamus,” I said, turning back to books.   “Can I get you something?   Coffee?   Tea?   Something to eat?”

Seamus did not respond.   He seemed to be standing still for the moment.   Perhaps he was thinking.   Or perhaps he was disoriented.

I turned around just in time to see Seamus produce a kitchen knife from his robe and lunge at Manu.  “MANU!  LOOKOUT!” I shouted, as I dove to grab Seamus’ arm.   Seamus and I tumbled to the floor.  I had the arm he was holding the knife with in a death grip.  Suddenly, with the other arm, Seamus took hold of my throat.  I looked into his eyes ... and I saw ... pure evil!  “GARETH!” I shouted with what breath I had left.  “Get out of him you MONSTER!” It was of no use.  Seamus--or Gareth--tightened his grip on my throat, and was able to bring his other arm closer to threaten my face with the knife.   With my other arm I began to lift him by the collar of his robe and slam him back to floor as I brought my knee up and planted it on his pelvis.  “Seamus!” I called, struggling for breath, “You’ve got to fight him!  Get him out of your head!  You can do it!”

“Foolish cowan!  You will never know magick!  You will never be worthy of Lilly’s legacy!” Gareth rasped.   

“Neither will you!” I managed to say, rage building up inside me.   With a sudden rush of adrenalin, I twisted his wrist effectively causing him to drop the knife.   With my other hand I grabbed his other wrist--the one at my throat--sank my fingers in and twisted as hard as I could.   Before I knew it, I had both his hands pinned beside his head, and the rest of him pinned with my legs.

Manu, ever one for perfect timing, had been knocked off his feet and, I assume, temporarily incapacitated.  At last regaining his faculties, he rushed over to us.  He sat up on his haunches, extended his hand over Seamus’ head and began chanting something in ... I don’t know ... Latin?

Gareth shook Seamus’ head violently.  “NOOOO!” he howled.

Manu kept chanting, undaunted.

“I...” Gareth said, struggling hard against whatever Manu was doing to him, “...will kill...” * huff * puff * “...you all!”

“Always good to know where you stand with people,” I said, bobbing my head with a wink and a smile.

Manu kept chanting, and suddenly Seamus passed out.

“Is he free?” I asked.

“He’s free,” Manu said, breathing heavily.

“I thought we were safe from this sort of thing here?”

“Evidently,” Manu said, wincing and short of breath, “Gareth has found a way around Seamus’ wards.”

“Then, we have to find a way to reinforce them.  And quickly!”

Manu took a labored deep breath and let it out slowly.  “Agreed,” he said, his upper body swaying from side-to-side.

“Manu?” I said, worried. 

He went side-to-side one more time, then, head down, he went forward, unconscious, landing on Seamus.

“MANU!” I shouted, shaking him.   Worry turned to horror, and the horror tore through me as I noticed the blood pouring from his back.   Seamus’ blade had found purchase!