duster lands on rebar

“Jump!” I snarled, pulling Tripp against my chest and pitching backward, over the edge. I flung put my right hand and my will as I did, snarling, “Hexus!”
Between my hex and the otso’s bad things were going to happen.
There was a flicker of sparks and a fraction of a second later, the bomb went off.
As explosions go, I’ve been closer to worse--but I wasn’t falling toward the broken ground while I did it. The sound of it was enormous. The slope of the roof offered us some shelter, much of the blast followed its contour, carrying a cloud of shrapnel made from shattered concrete and broken glass up and away from us while we enjoyed the relative safety of being in the shadow of the blast. Even so, I picked up a few dozen minor cuts and abrasions and wounds--and that was before I hit the ground.
The spell-armored surface of my duster, at least, kept my from being impaled on the sharp end of rebar, and it likely stopped a lot of flying glass and rock--but it didn’t keep me from dislocating four ribs or from minor tearing of muscles in my lower back as Tripp Gregory landed on top of me, and the two of us bounded down the slope of rubble on the other side.
I lifted an arm to shield my eyes and threw my other arm across Tripp’s as the rubble from the blast began to rain down all around us.


The Law: A Dresden Files Novella Chapter 13, Page 87