A Vigil in the Mourning (Soulbound #4) - Hailey Turner Page 0,112
into dense fur slick with blood. Jono ran from the edge of the pier, and the pair of them missed getting crushed to death in the span of a single heartbeat. Cold water washed over them in a deluge that nearly knocked them off their feet. Patrick clamped his mouth shut against the water, shivering from the instant chill it left behind, freezing and half-numb. His teeth chattered as he struggled to bring up his tattered shields.
Wade roared a challenge and launched himself into the sky, spitting fire at the serpent in the lake. Oniare screamed at Wade when he broke the surface again, and Wade dove at him, claws raking deceptively smooth skin. Hinon threw lightning bolts at Oniare and didn’t stop.
Shaking from the cold and waterlogged clothes, soaked to the bone, Patrick let go of Jono. He searched frantically for Odin, finally spying where the Allfather lay motionless farther down the pier. The wave had pushed his body toward the stairs that led up to the amusement park rides. Before he could think about moving, lightning jumped from cloud to cloud above before careening down to slam into Thor’s hammer.
“You have ruined enough lives, Loki!” Thor bellowed.
“There was only one I ever wanted to take,” Loki snarled, raising Gungnir over his shoulder like a javelin.
When Thor let loose the lightning bolt, it exploded from Mjölnir like a storm. Lightning arced away from it in all directions, slamming into the museum, the pier itself, Loki, and the numerous rides on the second level. Patrick leaned hard into the soulbond, and through it, the ley line. He poured magic into his shields so they would hold against the lightning storm.
All the lights around them exploded in countless sparks as lightning cut through everything. The Ferris wheel rocked on its base in a dangerous way that had Patrick yelling a warning to anyone who would listen.
“Watch out!” he shouted.
The Ferris wheel tipped forward with deceptive slowness, falling with the screech of breaking metal to the museum below.
Loki threw Gungnir with only one target in mind.
Eir dove past Thor, sliding on one knee over slick wood as she spun her spear up and around. She used her weapon to knock Gungnir out of the air, Odin’s spear clattering to the pier rather than finding its target in Odin’s heart.
The Ferris wheel crashed into the Children’s Museum and through the underlying base of the pier, breaking the pylons that supported the entire structure. The sound echoed like a bomb in Patrick’s ears, and he felt the hit vibrate through his body.
Navy Pier shuddered. Then it started to tip, everything sliding toward the cold waters of Lake Michigan that churned with the dead.
Eir lunged for Gungnir at the same time Loki appeared beside it, the trickster god having escaped Thor’s wrath once more. Before she could get her hands on the weapon, Loki snatched it up, thrusting it at Eir. Put on the defensive, Eir scrambled back out of range, because dying on Odin’s spear was a painful way to go.
“What say you, Fenrir?” Loki asked, staring at Jono but talking to the god in his soul. “Put your teeth in the Allfather, and we shall have our Ragnarök.”
Lightning exploded overhead, careening through the sky to slam into Thor’s hammer. It half blinded Patrick, making it impossible to see where the enemy stood.
“You shall not start our end, Loki,” Thor snarled, swinging his hammer around, lightning crackling through every inch of it.
“Oh, but our end is just beginning,” Loki said with a Cheshire cat smile as he turned to face Thor, still clutching Odin’s spear.
When they clashed, they left a hole in the pier, the smell of burning ozone thick in the air.
Patrick twisted around as the pier shuddered and heaved beneath his feet. Heart pounding in his chest, Brynhildr’s words heavy in his mind, Patrick scrambled back to Odin’s side. He didn’t think beyond what had to be done to break the spellwork.
He vaulted over a broken piece of the pier, scrabbling for purchase on the other side. In the flashes of lightning overhead, Patrick could just make out where Odin’s body lay, protected from sliding into the water by a jutting piece of debris.
Patrick used his feet and one free hand to stop his momentum, coming to rest beside the god. Odin’s eyes were open, staring up at the sky and the snowstorm churning there.
Odin’s stash of souls, gathered over many decades, had proven enough of a seed for Yggdrasil to put