'You have confidence that your dearest love will save you, do you?'

'I never said he was my dearest love, and yes, he will save me; that I know.'

'You admit you do not love your husband-to-be? Fancy. An honest woman. You're a rare specimen, Highness.'

'The Prince and I have never from the beginning lied to each other. He knows I do not love him.'

'Are not capable of love is what you mean.'

'I'm very capable of love,' Buttercup said.

'Hold your tongue, I think.'

'I have loved more deeply than a killer like you can possibly imagine.'

He slapped her.

'That is the penalty for lying, Highness. Where I come from, when a woman lies, she is reprimanded.'

'But I spoke the truth, I did, I—' Buttercup saw his hand rise a second time, so she stopped quickly, fell dead silent.

Then they began to run again.

They did not speak for hours. They just ran, and then, as if he could guess when she was spent, he would stop, release her hand. She would try to catch her breath for the next dash she was sure would come. Without a sound, he would grab her and off they would go.

It was close to dawn when they first saw the Armada.

They were running along the edge of a towering ravine. They seemed almost to be at the top of the world. When they stopped, Buttercup sank down to rest. The man in black stood silently over her. 'Your love comes, not alone,' he said then.

Buttercup did not understand.

The man in black pointed back the way they had come.

Buttercup stared, and as she did, the waters of Florin Channel seemed as filled with light as the sky was filled with stars.

'He must have ordered every ship in Florin after you,' the man in black said. 'Such a sight I have never seen.' He stared at all the lanterns on all the ships as they moved.

'You can never escape him,' Buttercup said. 'If you release me, I promise that you will come to no harm.'

'You are much too generous; I could never accept such an offer.'

'I offered you your life, that was generous enough.'

'Highness!' said the man in black, and his hands were suddenly at her throat. 'If there is talk of life to be done, let me do it.'

'You would not kill me. You did not steal me from murderers to murder me yourself.'

'Wise as well as loving,' said the man in black. He jerked her to her feet, and they ran along the edge of the great ravine. It was hundreds of feet deep, and filled with rocks and trees and lifting shadows. Abruptly, the man in black stopped, stared back at the Armada. 'To be honest,' he said, 'I had not expected quite so many.'

'You can never predict my Prince; that is why he is the greatest hunter.'

'I wonder,' said the man in black, 'will he stay in one group or will he divide, some to search the coastline, some to follow your path on land? What do you think?'

'I only know he will find me. And if you have not given me my freedom first, he will not treat you gently.'

'Surely he must have discussed things with you? The thrill of the hunt. What has he done in the past with many ships?'

'We do not discuss hunting, that I can assure you.'

'Not hunting, not love, what do you talk about?'

'We do not see all that much of each other.'

'Tender couple.'

Buttercup could feel the upset coming. 'We are always very honest with each other. Not everyone can say as much.'

'May I please tell you something, Highness? You're very cold—'

'I'm not—'

'—very cold and very young, and if you live, I think you'll turn to hoarfrost—'

'Why do you pick at me? I have come to terms with my life, and that is my affair—I am not cold, I swear, but I have decided certain things, it is best for me to ignore emotion; I have not been happy dealing with it—' Her heart was a secret garden and the walls were very high. 'I loved once,' Buttercup said after a moment. 'It worked out badly.'

'Another rich man? Yes, and he left you for a richer woman.'

'No. Poor. Poor and it killed him.'

'Were you sorry? Did you feel pain? Admit that you felt nothing—'

'Do not mock my grief! I died that day.'

The Armada began to fire signal cannons. The explosions echoed through the mountains. The man in black stared as the ships began to change formation.

And while he was watching the ships, Buttercup shoved him with all her strength remaining.

For a moment, the man in black teetered at the ravine edge. His arms spun like windmills fighting for balance. They swung and gripped the air and then he began his slide.

Down went the man in black.

Stumbling and torn and reaching out to stop his descent, but the ravine was too steep, and nothing could be done.

Down, down.

Rolling over rocks, spinning, out of all control.

Buttercup stared at what she had done.

Finally he rested far below her, silent and without motion. 'You can die too for all I care,' she said, and then she turned away.

Words followed her. Whispered from far, weak and warm and familiar. 'As ... you ... wish...'

Dawn in the mountains. Buttercup turned back to the source of the sound and stared down as, in first light, the man in black struggled to remove his mask.

'Oh, my sweet Westley,' Buttercup said. 'What have I done to you now?'

From the bottom of the ravine, there came only silence.

Buttercup hesitated not a moment. Down she went after him, keeping her feet as best she could, and as she began, she thought she heard him crying out to her over and over, but she could not make sense of his words, because inside her now there was the thunder of walls crumbling, and that was noise enough.

Besides, her balance quickly was gone and the ravine had her. She fell fast and she fell hard, but what did that matter, since she would have gladly dropped a thousand feet onto a bed of nails if Westley had been waiting at the bottom.

Down, down.

Tossed and spinning, crashing, torn, out of all control, she rolled and twisted and plunged, cartwheeling toward what was left of her beloved....

FROM HIS POSITION at the point of the Armada, Prince Humperdinck stared up at the Cliffs of Insanity. This was just like any other hunt. He made himself think away the quarry. It did not matter if you were after an antelope or a bride-to-be; the procedures held. You gathered evidence. Then you acted. You studied, then you performed. If you studied too little, the chances were strong that your actions would also be too late. You had to take time. And so, frozen in thought, he continued to stare up the sheer face of the Cliffs.

Obviously, someone had recently climbed them. There were foot scratchings all the way up a straight line, which meant, most certainly, a rope, an arm-over-arm climb up a thousand-foot rope with occasional foot kicks for balance. To make such a climb required both strength and planning, so the Prince made those marks in his brain: my enemy is strong; my enemy is not impulsive.

Now his eyes reached a point perhaps three hundred feet from the top. Here it began to get interesting. Now the foot scratchings were deeper, more frequent, and they followed no direct ascending line. Either someone left

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