The Amnesian Hero pushed his torso up, then swung his sword around to attack. To his horror, he could barely touch the strange creature. His leg seemed to be stretching toward the puddle, and, at least where it was not covered by bronze armor, his flesh was turning as gray as the muck itself. He could no longer see the difference between the tendril and his own knee; the mud had already claimed everything below that, and he had a dead, tingling feeling in his toes.
The Thrasson thrust the tip of his sword, all that could reach, into the muck. The star-forged steel cut through the tendril easily enough, but the mud simply oozed back behind the blade. He rolled onto his side, then curled toward his feet and attacked the base of the appendage. The blow severed it cleanly, but his foot remained bound to the puddle by a curtain of mud dribbling from his shin. By the time he cut through this, the base of the tentacle had reattached itself.
The Amnesian Hero could no longer feel his toes. His thigh had turned as gray as pearls, and his knee had become an amorphous mass of muck. He could not believe that a simple mud puddle would accomplish what the Hydra of Thrassos and the Acherian Giant had not.
The Thrasson looked down the dark alley, straining to see his quarry. "Help! Tessali!"
No answer.
"Tessali, this is the Amnesian Hero! I won't harm you. Perhaps I will even surrender!"
Nothing stirred in the darkness. The Thrasson felt himself sliding back toward the puddle, and that was when he realized he had seen no footprints in the dirt before him.
The puddle had swallowed Tessali's party, too.
The Amnesian Hero wedged his sword between the stones of the alley wall, anchoring himself in place. Any normal weapon would have snapped, but it would take a far greater strain to break – or even bend – his star-forged blade.
The mud reached the hem of the Thrasson's loin tasset. He felt as though his ankle, all he could still sense of his foot, lay twice a leg's length from his hip. He might save himself by using his star-forged blade to cut off his own leg, but he refused to consider such a cowardly act. Who had ever heard of a one-legged man of renown? Better to suffer an ignoble death now.
The Amnesian Hero turned his face groundward. "How have I offended you, 0 Great and Wicked Hades, that you treat me thus? I deserve a death more glorious than this!"
"But Zoombee, I have told you-you are dead already."
"Jayk?" The Amnesian Hero craned his neck around to see the tiefling carrying his amphora down the alley. "Truly, the gods are watching out for me."
"You must not be so absurd, Zoombee!" Jayk scoffed. "I heard you when you called to Tessali."
The Thrasson flushed. "You do realize I had no true intention of surrendering?"
"But of course, Zoombee." Jayk smirked, then leaned the heavy amphora against a nearby wall. "Who would surrender when he can let an ooze portal suck him into a Paraelemental Plane?"
One of the stones anchoring the Thrasson in place popped free. He resumed his steady slide toward the puddle. "Jayk, will you please free me from this mud?"
"I will try, Zoombee." The tiefling reached under her cape. "It can be very difficult. Perhaps my magic works better if you help me with Trevant, yes?"
The Thrasson felt his free foot brush the puddle's surface. He tried to lift it free, but he was too late; a long cord of mud rose with his toes.
The Amnesian Hero returned his gaze to the tiefling. "If you think I'll buy my own life at the expense of an innocent…"
"How can you say Trevant is innocent? He betrayed me!"
"Be that as it may, I won't help you." Caught by both legs now, the Amnesian Hero began to slide more rapidly toward the puddle. He stared into the mud. "Will you help me or not?"
"I suppose I must." Jayk's voice was both sharp and resigned. "You are too handsome to become one with Ooze."
The tiefling threw a small sliver of glass into the mud, at the same time speaking the words of a simple incantation. The ooze started to stiffen, the writhing of the tendrils slowed, and a glassy sheen spread over the surface of the puddle. A deep, penetrating cold pierced the Thrasson's leg, then he ceased sliding.
"Why do you wait, Zoombee? Cut yourself free!"
With both legs caught, the Amnesian Hero found it much more difficult to reach the mud. When he did slice into the icy muck, however, it stayed cut, and he soon freed the newly caught foot. After that, it was a simple matter to hack a large block from the puddle. Dragging a leg twice its normal length behind him, he crawled a short distance down the alley and began to hammer at the frozen sludge.
A few blows later, he had knocked the worst of the icy mud off his legs. In the dim light, he could not tell how quickly the color was returning to his chilly flesh. He felt a slight, aching bum as his elongated leg resumed its normal proportions, then his skin began to nettle as it does after being extremely cold. He still had no feeling below the ankle, and the foot itself gleamed with the same faint glow he had earlier observed on the surface of the mud.
The Thrasson rose and limped along the edge of the puddle, both testing his legs and searching for clues as to the fate of Tessali and the white-gowned woman.
"Zoombee, what are you looking for?"
"Signs of Tessali and the woman we saw in Rivergate. They were supposed to have come down this alley."
"Who tells you a thing like that?"
The Amnesian Hero stopped and looked up. "A barbazu."
"And you believe him? I see Tessali in the street-searching for that glitter girl in white." Jayk shook her head sadly. "Poor Zoombee, he even trusts fiends."
The Thrasson flushed again, feeling foolish for allowing his enthusiasm to overcome his judgment. "I did have him at a disadvantage." Still, he sheathed his sword and, seeing no other way back to Jayk, went to the edge of the ooze portal. "Can I walk on this?"
"Until it thaws."
The Amnesian Hero limped across the ice, then stopped at Jayk's side. "I am in your debt. Perhaps I can help you recover your spellbooks, but I won't-"
"Harm Trevant, I know. That is fine. You must live by the rules of your delusions." Jayk looked at his sandaled foot, then added, "Now we must go. We must find a healer before your foot thaws."
The Thrasson scowled at his glimmering foot. "What happens then?"
"It probably does not matter, if you still wish to see the Lady of Pain." Jayk turned toward the mouth of the alley. "But you were in the ooze too long; it has taken your foot. If a healer does not restore it before the mud thaws, the portal will finish its work."
The Amnesian Hero cast an uneasy glance at his glimmering foot, then picked up the amphora and turned to limp after Jayk.
Two paces away, the tiefling had stopped to stare at four slender figures with clouds of white hair piled high atop their heads. They had small coin-shaped noses, deep-set eyes, and squat brows with two sets of horns – one pair straight and one pair curled. All four beings were calmly stacking stones across the mouth of the alley, an activity strangely at odds with their flowing, elaborately embroidered robes.
Jayk raised a hand to her mouth and retreated, backing into the Amnesian Hero. She stopped, but did not turn around or speak.
"What's happening here?" the Thrasson asked. "Why are you so afraid?"
"Dabus!"
When Jayk offered no further explanation, the Amnesian Hero pushed the amphora into her arms. Placing one hand on the hilt of his sword, he stepped forward and pointed at the wall.
"What are you doing here?"
In unison, the dabus stooped over as though to pick up something. Although the Amnesian Hero could see no loose stones on the ground, when they rose again, each held a flat rock in his hands. They placed the stones on the wall, then bent down to get another.