The staircase was straight, and very long, but eventually they reached the end of it. Another door. Fezzik gave it a push. It opened. Another corridor lined with cages, big ones though, and inside, great baying hippos and a twenty-foot alligator thrashing angrily in shallow water.
“We must hurry,” Inigo said, picking up the pace; “much as we might like to dawdle,” and he half ran toward a sign that said, “To Level Three.” Inigo opened the door and looked down and Fezzik peered over his shoulder. “Hmmm,” Inigo said.
This staircase was different. It was not nearly as steep, and it curved halfway, so that whatever was near the bottom of it was quite out of sight as they stood at the top preparing to go down. There were strange candles burning high on the walls out of reach. The shadows they made were very long and very thin.
“Well, I’m certainly glad I wasn’t brought up here,” Inigo said, trying for a joke.
“Fear,” Fezzik said, the rhyme out before he could stop it.
Inigo exploded. “Really! If you can’t maintain control, I’m going to send you right back up and you can just wait there all by yourself.”
“Don’t leave me; I mean, don’t make me leave you. Please. I meant to say ‘beer’; I don’t know how the f got in there.”
“I’m really losing patience with you; come along,” Inigo said, and he started down the curving stairs, Fezzik following, and as the door closed behind them, two things happened:
(1) The door, quite clearly, locked.
(2) Out went the candles on the high walls. “DON’t BE FRIGHTENED!” Inigo screamed.
“I’M NOT, I’M NOT!” Fezzik screamed right back. And then, above his heartbeat, he managed, “What are we going to do?”
“S-s-s-simple,” said Inigo after a while.
“Are you frightened too?” asked Fezzik in the darkness.
“Not… remotely,” Inigo said with great care. “And before, I meant to say ‘easy’; I don’t know how the ‘s-s-s-s-’ got in there. Look: we can’t go back and we certainly don’t want to stay here, so we just must keep on going as we were before these little things happened. Down. Down is our direction, Fezzik, but I can tell you’re a bit edgy about all this, so, out of the goodness of my heart, I will let you walk down not behind me, and not in front of me, but right next to me, on the same step, stride for stride, and you put an arm around my shoulder, because that will probably make you feel better, and I, so as not to make you feel foolish, will put an arm around your shoulder, and thus, safe, protected, together, we will descend.”
“Will you draw your sword with your free hand?”
“I already have. Will you make a fist with yours?”
“It’s clenched.”
“Then let’s look on the bright side: we’re having an adventure, Fezzik, and most people live and die without being as lucky as we are.”
They moved down one step. Then another. Then two, then three, as they got the hang of it.
“Why do you think they locked the door behind us?” Fezzik asked as they moved.
“To add spice to our trip, I suspect,” replied Inigo. It was certainly one of his weaker answers, but the best he could come up with.
“Here’s where the turn starts,” said Fezzik, and they slowed, making the sharp turn without stumbling, continuing on down. “And they took away the candles for the same reason—spice?”
“Most likely. Don’t squeeze me quite so hard—”
“Don’t you squeeze me quite so hard—”
By then they knew they were for it.