They reached Periphetes. The wind was squeezing under the giant's bent legs with a chugging roar, blasting ash into their faces and threatening to sweep them from their feet. The Thrasson scooped Jayk into his arms, then pinched his eyes shut against the stinging dross and ducked through the archway. Hard as he tried, he could not drag his mother's name from the depths of his mind. He recalled only what he had learned during his vision.

A few steps later, the gale diminished to a bluster. The Thrasson opened his eyes, blinked away a flood of sweat, and, through the billowing haze ahead, saw the dark mouth of a side passage. He still could not remember his mother's name.

"What of… the name?" asked Tessali.

"If I say I saw my mother, then I saw my mother!" The Amnesian Hero scowled over his shoulder. "And even if I am wrong, I am still bound to deliver this amphora to the Lady of Pain!"

Tessali could only shake his head. "It is no wonder… we are in the mazes."

"I would not wish anguish on anyone, elf, but I liked you better when you were too pained to speak."

Too hot and drained to continue carrying Jayk, the Amnesian Hero returned her to the ground and, still supporting her with an arm, clumped into the side passage. This corridor looked much the same as the one from which they had come, with high, powdery walls and a whirling ash haze that at times reduced visibility to an arm's length. Being careful to stay within Silverwind's sight, the Thrasson worked his way along the wall, taking first two right turns, then shifting to the opposite side of the passage and taking three lefts. At last, they stopped to rest in a short dead-end blind where, with no wind howling down the passage, the ash remained on the ground.

The Thrasson wiped the sweat off his face, only to find fresh runnels pouring down it before he finished. He took a long drink of wine – it tasted cooler than before – then offered the skin to his companions. "Does anyone want some before I go?"

"Go?" Jayk clutched his arm. "Where?"

The Amnesian Hero pointed up the short passage, to where a curtain of blowing ash marked the corridor from which they had just come. "Someone's got to keep watch."

"No wine… for me," said Tessali. "And you shouldn't…"

"I've told him so." Silverwind, already examining one of the elf's wounds, did not look up as he spoke. "But he is a stubborn one. No need to worry, though; I imagine that fever of his will knock him out soon."

"You imagine wrong, Silverwind." The Thrasson turned to clump toward the intersection. "When you finish with Tessali, I will be waiting."

"And I will be with him," said Jayk. "Maybe some wine will take the bite off this headache."

"It would be better to wait until I can imagine some water." Silverwind looked up from Tessali's wound. "With that head injury, I fear wine could undo you."

Jayk whirled on the bariaur. "Life is an illusion, but this pain is not!" She pursed her lips and spewed a plume of damp ash in the general direction of the bariaur's hooves. "I spit on your water!"

The Amnesian Hero passed the wineskin to the tiefling. "Jayk, it is good to have you with us again."

They went to the intersection together. The Thrasson slipped the amphora off his back and leaned it against the ash wall, then sat down amidst the eddies of dross swirling in from the main corridor. He felt more overheated than feverish, and it seemed to him that the weakness in his muscles resulted more from thirst than illness. Nevertheless, when he reached around to touch the scratch on his side, he was surprised to feel how sore it was, and how hot it seemed under his fingertips.

The tiefling settled in beside him, and they sat quietly for a time, passing the wine back and forth, washing the dross down with long sips of sweet ambrosia. When they had both drank their fill, Jayk pushed the stopper into the mouth of the wineskin. She placed the sack between them, then braced her elbows on her knees and held her head between her hands.

After a time, the tiefling said, "Tessali, maybe he is right." She picked up an ash clod and tossed it at the amphora. "You should throw that jar over the wall."

The Thrasson was glad he was not drinking at the moment, for he would have spewed a mouthful of good wine onto the ground. "Jayk, what's wrong with you? Better than anyone, you know why I can never do that."

The tiefling shot the amphora a black look. "You are so simple, Zoombee. Poseidon, he tricked you."

"Nevertheless, I promised to deliver the amphora to the Lady of Pain, not to cast it away in the mazes."

"What does your promise mean here?" Jayk thrust a hand skyward. "The Lady of Pain does not want the jar, and it is only trouble to us."

"It is more than that to me."

"Pah! That vision was meant for the Lady. Why would Poseidon put your memories in a gift to someone else?"

"I don't know-he promised to restore my memories after I delivered the amphora." The Thrasson found himself staring at the jar and, through an act of will, looked back to the main corridor. "Perhaps he wanted them to return to me when the Lady of Pain opened the jar. The gods enjoy spectacles like that, you know."

Jayk rolled her dark eyes, then winced at the pain it caused her. "If Poseidon wishes to impress someone, I think it is the Lady, not you."

Unable to argue with the tiefling's point, the Thrasson snatched the wineskin. "I can't explain why the vision came from the amphora, but I know it was my mother." He swallowed a mouthful of wine, then said, "Maybe what the amphora holds aren't memories, but spells that summon lost memories."

"Or maybe they are spells that make you think you remember what you don't, or maybe they are djinn tricksters, or maybe they are what could be but isn't," Jayk scoffed. "We don't know. You must throw that jar away before another giant gets loose. We have enough trouble."

"I would never think to hear you sound like Tessali." The Amnesian Hero raised his sweaty brow, unleashing a cascade of salty drips that had been gathering above his eyes. "You're scared!"

Jayk began to rub her forehead with the heels of her hands, but not quickly enough to hide the flash in her eyes. "Scared? Of what, Zoombee?"

"You tell me – I know you're not afraid of dying." The Amnesian Hero pointed at the amphora. "It's something in there."

The tiefling pulled her hands away from her face, and, a little too steadily, she locked gazes with the Thrasson.

"What is in the jar makes no difference to me; if you think it has your memories, why don't you open it?" She stood and stepped over to the amphora. "I will do it for you, yes?"

"No!" The Thrasson jumped to his feet. Jayk was scared; he knew that, though not as certainly as he knew she would pull the stopper just to prove him wrong. He grabbed her arms and drew her away. "You mustn't open it!"

"Why not, Zoombee?" Jayk's smirk was just broad enough to betray her relief. "I thought you wanted to know who you are."

"You know why you can't open it," the Thrasson growled. "No matter what the amphora contains, it's not mine to open."

"Too bad." Jayk thrust out her lip in an exaggerated pout, and that gesture was what betrayed her secret fear to the Amnesian Hero. "I know how important it is for you find out who you are."

"And why should that frighten you?" the Thrasson demanded. "Are you afraid that if I remember who I am, I'll forget about you?"

Jayk could not hide the force with which the question struck. Her pupils instantly took the shape of diamonds, and the tips of her fangs dropped into view. Her murky face grew even darker, though it was impossible to say whether in anger or sorrow, and she slumped to the ground.

"Jayk, you have nothing to worry about. I have promised to return you to Sigil." Had the Amnesian Hero not witnessed the deadly effects of her bite, he would have squatted down to embrace her. "By now, you must know I am a man of my word."