"What about spells? Have anything handy? I know I don't." He reached a hand out and touched the wall. It was solid and wall-like. Good, he thought. Things were getting better. Even if they weren't, at least they weren't getting worse. The disembodied whispering were back to intangibility. He'd rather they'd just stop, but beggars can't be choosers.

"If you don't have anything, I suppose, we could keep going. Not that I want to."