The air tasted foul, and it wasn't just because of the burning hay fumes that clung to the back of my throat but the uncleared animal excrement that'd been trodden into it beforehand.
Immortal, magic-inclined and experienced, yet my senses were still as vulnerable as if weren't any of those things. I felt a scolding heat hit my forehead only to fade right away; then another landed on my hand. It was raining fiery embers.
'Who's attacking?'
'Rac?'
'Who else, Jake? Our scanners aren't telling us anything, only that the bulkheads are getting trashed throughout the stables; there goes another! Stop them before they rip the ship in half.'
I cursed, struggling to see beyond the webbing and smokey veil. The spear-thrower was gone, seemingly timing each movement with the cries of our passengers.
'Poor bastards. We've only rescued them from one hell and brought them to another.'