A circular lake of lava almost the size of a football field bubbled in an immense pit in front of me. It took up the entire floor of a huge cavern of shining black rock whose curved sides soared up above me into red-tinted darkness. The whole cave was made of obsidian, the black volcanic glass that was formed by fast-cooling volcanic eruptions.

An obsidian bridge of six feet wide and easily sixty feet long stretched from where I stood. It leapt up over the lava to meet a platform which hung, seemingly floating in mid-air, just above the center of the chamber.

If the place hadn’t set my teeth on edge, it might have reminded me of Bowser’s Castle. If there had been any doubt in my mind that dimensional magic was at play in the mansion, all such doubts were gone now.

I placed a single foot on the beginning of the bridge at the bottom of the staircase. It was black obsidian, carved in a graceful sweep from the floor where I stood to the central platform.

The bridge looked and felt sturdy enough. It was at least a foot thick, and the slick glassy obsidian span had been roughened so that a foot would not slip. Looking closer, I saw that the roughened, opaque surface had been carved into tiles, four across, with deep channels in between each. Well, at least I could be confident I wouldn’t slip, and the bridge didn’t feel like it would suddenly give way beneath my feet.

I took one step forward.

Behind me, there was a loud clang that echoed dully in the chamber. Glancing swiftly around, I saw that a heavy iron door had slammed shut over the entrance to the stairway. There had been no door a moment ago… I remembered what the two Outworlder women had said about Kyrine having the ability to change the physical characteristics of the mansion at will.

“Manifesting a massive iron door out of thin air?” I said out loud. “Definitely impressive!” I was pleased to hear that my voice didn’t shake. That was good. I had a feeling this dungeon core would not be impressed if I showed fear right now.

As I spoke, I heard the sound of bolts crashing into place on the other side of the door, and the relentless snapping of locks engaging.

“I think you’ve made your point,” I called out, wondering if the dungeon could hear me. I felt sure she could.

So, two locked doors between me and safety now. Great.

A chime sounded from the direction of the platform at the end of the bridge, and I turned back to look in that direction. Where the platform had been empty only a second ago, a small circular hole now formed at its base. I watched in amazement as a black polished obsidian plinth rose up from the center of the platform and stopped about waist high.