Gonna work more on this today, but it’s moving along now.
“You think that charm he’s got is letting him through?” Jim ground out through gritted teeth as he pushed back on a descending saw, its spinning blades inches from his head. Halflings are stronger than they look, thank Yig. “And how is this thing even working?”
“Magic,” I huffed back (I was holding back the other saw, you see). “Best maintenance program there is, right up to the second the spells go sour and suddenly you’ve got saw-monsters. Ev, how’s it going?”
“Just about ready. When I say shove, shove. Put your backs into it.”
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not.” I professionally respected the amusement in her voice, while personally objecting to it. She wasn’t the one with the shaft of a metal and wood deathtrap pushing against her shoulders. “We need space for the wedges. So… shove.”