The Amnesian Hero thumped down beside Sheba, his star-forged blade already biting into her leg. In the next instant, a deafening bellow reverberated down the iron passage, then a huge hand came from nowhere to crash into the Thrasson's shoulder. He lost his sword and went tumbling across the bricks and, three somersaults later, slammed into a scorching wall. There was a loud sizzle and the smell of burnt flesh, yet the Amnesian Hero felt only a faint nettling where his bare flesh touched the blistering metal. He pushed off the wall and tumbled to his knees, then found himself staring up at a curtain of matted fur. A huge, black-taloned mitt was reaching down to clutch him.

The Amnesian Hero ducked his shoulder and rolled, only to have Sheba pivot around before he could get his feet under him. He glimpsed a stripe of oozing black sap where his star-forged blade had bit into the knee, but the limb appeared discouragingly whole. He saw no sign of his weapon; the sword lay lost somewhere in the steam. The monster reached for him again, and the Thrasson began to wonder if his companions had abandoned him.

"Jayk?"

His scream was answered by the hail-muffled syllables of the tiefling's incantation. A pair of yellow streaks flashed through the orange steam, pulsing into the monster's shoulder, then bursting in a spray of golden light and silver fur. Sheba grunted and stumbled a single step back.

The Amnesian Hero crab-scrambled around behind the monster, frantically sweeping his hands across the bricks in search of his sword-and hoping he would not find it by slicing his fingers off. Sheba gave a baffled growl, then her head began to pendulum back and forth as she searched for him.

Silverwind cast his spell, filling the passage with a booming incantation even louder than the pounding hail. A roaring wind came blasting down the corridor to sweep the steam around the comer and blow the hailstorm back the way it had come.

When the tempest cleared, Sheba was staring directly at the Thrasson's sword, which lay less than three paces in front of her foot. The Amnesian Hero, slightly behind her and off to one side, found himself well beyond the limit of her peripheral vision – at least that was what he hoped. The amphora was tucked beneath the monster's arm on his side of her body. He considered trying to knock it free and dive for his sword, but decided that he had a better chance of getting stuck in her gummy fur than coming up with either his weapon or the jar.

The monster pivoted, her head tipped forward to search for her foe. The Amnesian Hero started to crab-walk around behind her, hoping to complete the circle and grab his sword – and that was when he noticed a huge black shadow slipping around the comer.

At last.

The Amnesian Hero let his brick foot clatter on the ground behind the monster, then he threw himself in the opposite direction, diving for his sword. Sheba was already spinning; her talons raked furrows of cold pain down his spine, but he was much lower than she had expected and going in the opposite direction. He belly-flopped onto the bricks and crawled to his sword, then whirled onto his mangled back, bringing the blade around just in case she attacked him instead of switching to Karfhud,

Sheba was nowhere in sight.

The Thrasson found himself staring directly up at the fiend, whose smoldering eyes were focused somewhere up the passage. The Amnesian Hero rolled once more and saw the monster, with the amphora tucked beneath her arm, loping past his companions. They were so terrified that they did not seem to notice their backs pressed tight against the scorching iron walls. The Thrasson hoisted himself to his feet and clumped up the corridor in his best imitation of a sprint. Karfhud's massive hand caught him by the shoulder. "It is too late." The evenness of the fiend's tone was surprising; certainly, the mind-reading tanar'ri knew how the Thrasson had tried to play Sheba off against him, yet his voice betrayed no ill will. "Now we must do this the hard way."

"Do what the hard way?" the Amnesian Hero asked.

"Only what we both wish to do – hunt down Sheba."

Karfhud watched the monster disappear around a comer, then turned his gaze upon Tessali and Silverwind. The pair were staring at him and looking even more frightened than they had when Sheba was chasing them.

"But first, Thrasson, we must do something about your brick foot," said Karfhud. "We will both need to be at our best Call your friends; they will be of use."

"You won't hurt them?"

Karfhud shook his head. "I told you, they will be of use."

Thus reassured, more or less, the Amnesian Hero waved his companions down the passage. Led by Jayk, they approached to within a few paces and stopped. Silverwind promptly began to chastise himself for failing to retain better control over his evil side.

"We are all tired." Karfhud spoke over Silverwind's rantings, at once silencing the old cleric and taking command of the little company. "We will rest here."

Always one to challenge another's authority, Tessali shook his head. "We must reach the ash maze as quickly as possible." He raised his arms, displaying the bandaged wrist stumps. "My hands were cut off, and we must-"

"Your hands are not there. I have already eaten one." Karfhud reached into his back satchel and produced the elf's remaining hand. "And I fear your tiefling friend overcooked the other one."

Tessali stared at the charred hand for a full twenty heartbeats before uttering a sound. Then he let out such a shriek that it sounded as though he was dying of shock. At length, it became clear that he was actually screeching a question.

"You what?'

Karfhud shrugged. "It was a mistake – but I warn you, I will eat the other one if you do not quiet yourself."

Tessali fell silent, but made the mistake of reaching for the charred hand. Karfhud pushed the elf to the ground, then stuffed the appendage back into his satchel.

"I will keep this one, to insure your cooperation – and your silence." Without awaiting a reply, the fiend turned to Silverwind. "Bariaur, you will prepare your healing magic."

The fiend's command seemed to jolt Silverwind out of his confusion, at least for the moment. "Healing magic – for what?"

"We must change the Thrasson's brick foot for a flesh one." Karfhud removed his back satchel, then opened it and pulled an enormous wineskin from inside. This he held out to the Amnesian Hero. "You may drink your fill."

Jayk quickly intercepted the skin. "That idea, she is a very bad one. When he drinks-"

"I know what happens." Karfhud jerked the wineskin away, then thrust it into the Thrasson's hands. "Drink. I will clean your sword for you."

The Amnesian Hero accepted the skin and yielded his sword, which was still coated with Sheba's saplike blood. The Thrasson pulled the stopper from the wine sack and took a long swallow. The stuff tasted like stump water, but it was powerful, and it quenched his thirst. Without asking the fiend's permission, he poured a long draught into Tessali's mouth, then passed the sack to Jayk and Silverwind.

Karfhud made no comment on the Amnesian Hero's generosity. Instead, the fiend slashed open one of his own veins, then dribbled his blood over the Thrasson's star-forged sword. The foul-smelling stuff hissed and bubbled and instantly dissolved the sticky black gunk that Sheba's wound had left smeared over the blade.

"Tanar'ri blood: the best cleansing agent in the multiverse." Karfhud dried the star-forged blade, then took the wineskin from Jayk's hands and passed it back to the Amnesian Hero. "Drink; this will hurt."

"What?" The Thrasson demanded.

Karfhud ignored him, instead motioning Jayk to sit down in the middle of the passage. "Tiefling, you will hold the Thrasson – and no biting."

The Amnesian Hero was beginning to understand the fiend's plan. "Karfhud, I am not going to-"