CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
Thor stood alone in a vast field of scarlet flowers lit by a blood-red sunset. Over his head, somewhere high up, circled Estopheles, screeching. Up ahead, in the distance, there was a lone figure, lying limp in the grass. He could not tell who it was.
Thor walked toward it, his heart pounding as he went. The sky darkened with each step, and he felt an increasing sense of foreboding. Something inside told him it was the body of someone he loved.
As he approached, he could tell, from the flowing white lace spilled on the ground, it was a woman. With dread he saw her long, blonde hair, spilling out around her shoulders, and before he reached her, he knew who it was.
Gwendolyn.
Thor reached out with a trembling hand, grabbed her shoulder, and slowly turned her over, a
