The Princess Bride

knees obediently, but that wasn't enough, not nearly, so Inigo slammed him again crying, 'Flat, flat, all the way down,' until Fezzik lay on the black stairs shaking and Inigo knelt above him, the great six-fingered sword flying into his hands, and this was it, this was a test to see how far down the ninety days of brandy had taken him, how much of the great Inigo Montoya remained, for, yes, he had studied fencing, true, he had spent half his life and more learning the Agrippa attack and the Bonetti defense and of course he had studied his Thibault, but he had also, one desperate time, spent a summer with the only Scot who ever understood swords, the crippled MacPherson, and it was MacPherson who scoffed at everything Inigo knew, it was MacPherson who said, 'Thibault, Thibault is fine if you fight in a ballroom, but what if you meet your enemy on terrain that is tilted and you are below him,' and for a week, Inigo studied all the moves from below, and then MacPherson put him on a hill in the upper position, and when those moves were mastered, MacPherson kept right on, for he was a cripple, his legs stopped at the knee, and so he had a special feel for adversity. 'And what if your enemy blinds you?' MacPherson once said. 'He throws acid in your eyes and now he drives in for the kill; what do you do? Tell me that, Spaniard, survive that, Spaniard.' And now, waiting for the charge of the king bats, Inigo flung his mind back toward the MacPherson moves, and you had to depend on your ears, you found his heart from his sounds, and now, as he waited, above him Inigo could feel the king bats massing, while below him Fezzik trembled like a kitten in cold water.

'Be still!' Inigo commanded, and that was the last sound he made, because he needed his ears now, and he tilted his head toward the flutter, the great sword firm in his right hand, the deadly point circling slowly in the air. Inigo had never seen a king bat, knew nothing of them; how fast were they, how did they come at you, at what angle, and how many made each charge? The flutter was dead above him now, ten feet perhaps, perhaps more, and could bats see in the night? Did they have that weapon too? 'Come on!' Inigo was about to say, but there was no need, because with a rush of wings he had expected and a high long shriek he had not, the first king bat swooped down at him.

Inigo waited, waited, the flutter was off to the left, and that was wrong, because he knew where he was and so did the beasts, so that meant they must have been preparing something for him, a cut, a sudden turn, and with all control left to his brain he kept his sword just as it was, circling slowly, not following the sound until the fluttering stopped and the king bat veered in silence toward Inigo's face.

The six-fingered sword drove through like butter.

The death sound of the king bat was close to human, only a bit higher pitched and shorter, and Inigo was only briefly interested because now there was a double flutter; they were coming at him from two sides and one right, one left, and MacPherson told him always move from strength to weakness, so Inigo stabbed first to the right, then drove left, and two more almost human sounds came and went. The sword was heavy now, three dead beasts changed the balance, and Inigo wanted to clear the weapon, but now another flutter, a single one, and no veering this time, straight and deadly for his face and he ducked and was lucky; the sword moved up and into the heart of the lethal thing and now there were four skewered on the sword of legend, and Inigo knew he was not about to lose this fight and from his throat came the words, 'I am Inigo Montoya and still the Wizard; come for me,' and when he heard three of them fluttering, he wished he had been just a bit more modest but it was too late for that, so he needed surprise, and he took it, shifting position against the beasts, standing straight, taking their dives long before they expected it, and now there were seven king bats and his sword was completely out of balance and that would have been a bad thing, a dangerous thing, except for one important aspect: there was silence now in the darkness. The fluttering was done.

'Some giant you are,' Inigo said then, and he stepped over Fezzik and hurried down the rest of the darkened stairs.

Fezzik got up and lumbered after him, saying, 'Inigo, listen, I made a mistake before, you didn't lie to me, you tricked me, and father always said tricking was fine, so I'm not mad at you anymore, and is that all right with you? It's all right with me.'

They turned the knob on the door at the bottom of the black stairs and stepped onto the fourth level.

Inigo looked at him. 'You mean you'll forgive me completely for saving your life if I completely forgive you for saving mine?'

'You're my friend, my only one.'

'Pathetic, that's what we are,' Inigo said.

'Athletic.'

'That's very good,' Inigo said, so Fezzik knew they were fine again. They started toward the sign that said, 'To Level Five,' passing strange cages. 'This is the worst yet,' Inigo said, and then he jumped back, because behind a pale glass case, a blood eagle was actually eating what looked like an arm. And on the other side there was a great black pool, and whatever was in it was dark and many armed and the water seemed to get sucked toward the center of the pool where the mouth of the thing was. 'Hurry,' Inigo said, and he found himself trembling at the thought of being dropped into the black pool.

They opened the door and looked down toward the fifth level.

Stunning.

In the first place, the door they opened had no lock, so it could not trap them. And in the second place the stairs were all brightly lit. And in the third place the stairs were absolutely straight. And in the fourth place, it wasn't a long flight at all.

And in the main place, there was nothing inside. It was bright and clean and totally, without the least doubt, empty.

'I don't believe it for a minute,' Inigo said, and, holding his sword at the ready, he took the first step down. 'Stay by the door—the candles will go out any second.'

He took a second step down.

The candles stayed bright.

A third step. The fourth. There were only about a dozen steps in all, and he took two more, stopping in the middle. Each step was perhaps a foot in width, so he was six feet from Fezzik, six feet from the large, ornate green-handled door that opened onto the final level. 'Fezzik?'

From the upper door: 'What?'

'I'm frightened.'

'It looks all right though.'

'No. It's supposed to; that's to fool us. Whatever we've gotten by before, this must be worse.'

'But there's nothing to see, Inigo.'

Inigo nodded. 'That's why I'm so frightened.' He took another step down toward the final, ornate green- handled door. Another. Four steps to go. Four feet to go.

Forty-eight inches from death.

Inigo took another step. He was trembling now; almost out of control.

'Why are you shaking?' Fezzik from the top.

'Death is here. Death is here.' He took another step down.

Twenty-four inches to dying.

'Can I come join you now?'

Inigo shook his head. 'No point in your dying too.'

'But it's empty.'

'No. Death is here.' Now he was out of control. 'If I could see it, I could fight it.'

Fezzik didn't know what to do.

'I'm Inigo Montoya the Wizard; come for me!' He turned around and around, sword ready, studying the brightly lit staircase.

'Now you're scaring me,' Fezzik said, and he let the door close behind him and started down the stairs.

Inigo started up after him, saying 'No.' They met on the sixth step.

Seventy-two inches from death now.

The green speckled recluse doesn't destroy as quickly as the stonefish. And many think the mamba brings more suffering, what with the ulcerating and all. But gram for gram, nothing in the universe comes close to the green speckled recluse; among other spiders, compared with the green speckled recluse, the black widow was a rag doll. Prince Humperdinck's recluse lived behind the ornate green handle on the bottom door. She rarely moved, unless the handle turned. Then she struck like lightning.