"Here I was under the impression it was a post-death paradise," Solomon murmured after they'd arrived, in the time it took for him to look around and extend his own senses. There were spots of death around, but they were the sort that were too old to indicate much in the way of present danger.

"Optimally, large enough to construct a doorway-sized portal," said Solomon as he approached the doorway, "but I rather doubt we'll find anywhere near enough to make one out of nothing but marble and obsidian--at least, not unless we happen to make landfall again. At minimum I'd need forty ounces of each in five or more pieces."

He needed at least eight ounces per point of stability; five points of stability in an archway, and that meant he needed the pieces to be separate so they could be equally distributed.

Fly to the first bend and then return, Solomon ordered the bird, and it took off from his shoulder, flying low into the mine, its wings brushing the floor.