“I don’t know,” Roland said. “For every thing I do know, there are a hundred things I don’t. You-both of you-will have to reconcile yourselves to that fact. The world has moved on, we say. When it did, it went like a great receding wave, leaving only wreckage behind… wreckage that sometimes looks like a map.”

“Well, make a guess!” Eddie exclaimed, and the raw eagerness in his voice told the gunslinger that Eddie had not given up the idea of returning to his own world-and Susannah’s-even now. Not entirely.

“Leave him be, Eddie,” Susannah said. “The man don’t guess.”

“Not true-sometimes the man does,” Roland said, surprising them both. “When guessing’s the only thing left, sometimes he does. The answer is no. I don’t think-I don’t guess-that these portals are much like the doors on the beach. I don’t guess they go to a where or when that we would recognize. I think the doors on the beach-the ones that led into the world you both came from-were like the pivot at the center of a child’s teeterboard. Do you know what that is?”

“Seesaw?” Susannah asked, and tipped her hand back and forth to demonstrate.

“Yes!” Roland agreed, looking pleased. “Just so. On one end of this sawsee-”

“Seesaw,” Eddie said, smiling a little.

“Yes. On one end, my ka. On the other, that of the man in black- Walter. The doors were the center, creations of the tension between two opposing destinies. These other portals are things far greater than Walter, or me, or the little fellowship we three have made.”

“Are you saying,” Susannah asked hesitantly, “that the portals where these Guardians stand watch are outside ka? Beyond ka?”

“I’m saying that I believe so.” He offered his own brief smile, a thin sickle in the firelight. “That I guess so.”

He was silent a moment, then he picked up a stick of his own. He brushed away the carpet of pine needles and used the stick to draw in the dirt beneath:“Here is the world as I was told it existed when I was a child. The Xs are the portals standing in a ring at its eternal edge. If one drew six lines, connecting these portals in pairs-so-”

He looked up. “Do you see where the lines cross in the center?”

Eddie felt gooseflesh crawl up his back and down his arms. His mouth was suddenly dry. “Is that it, Roland? Is that-?”

Roland nodded. His long, lined face was grave. “At this nexus lies the Great Portal, the so-called Thirteenth Gate which rules not just this world but all worlds.”

He tapped the center of the circle.

“Here is the Dark Tower for which I’ve searched my whole life.’’

13

THE GUNSLINGER RESUMED: “At each of the twelve lesser portals the Great Old Ones set a Guardian. In my childhood I could have named them all in the rimes my nursemaid-and Hax the cook-taught to me… but my childhood was long ago. There was the Bear, of course, and the Fish… the Lion… the Bat. And the Turtle-he was an important one…”

The gunslinger looked up into the starry sky, his brow creased in deep thought. Then an amazingly sunny smile broke across his features and he recited:

“See the TURTLE of enormous girth!

On his shell he holds the earth.

His thought is slow but always kind;

He holds us all within his mind.

On his back all vows are made;

He sees the truth but mayn’t aid.

He loves the land and loves the sea,

And even loves a child like me.”

Roland uttered a small, bemused laugh. “Hax taught that to me, singing it as he stirred the frosting for some cake and gave me little nips of the sweet from the edge of his spoon. Amazing what we remember, isn’t it? Anyway, as I grew older, I came to believe that the Guardians didn’t really exist-that they were symbols rather than substance. It seems that I was wrong.”

“I called it a robot,” Eddie said, “but that’s not what it really was. Susannah’s right-the only thing robots bleed when you shoot them is Quaker State 10-40. I think it was what people of my world call a cyborg, Roland-a creature that’s part machine and part flesh and blood. There was a movie I saw… we told you about movies, didn’t we?””

Smiling a little, Roland nodded.

“Well, this movie was called Robocop, and the guy in it wasn’t a lot different from the bear Susannah killed. How did you know where she should shoot it?”

“That I remembered from the old tales as Hax told them,” he said. “If it had been up to my nursemaid, Eddie, you’d be in the belly of the bear now. Do they sometimes tell puzzled children in your world to put on their thinking caps?”

“Yes,” Susannah said. “They sure do.”

“It’s said here, as well, and the saying comes from the story of the Guardians. Each supposedly carried an extra brain on the outside of its head. In a hat.” He looked at them with his dreadfully haunted eyes and smiled again. “It didn t look much like a hat, did it?”

“No,” Eddie said, “but the story was close enough to save our bacon.”

“I think now that I’ve been looking for one of the Guardians ever since I began my quest,” Roland said. “When we find the portal this Shardik guarded-and that should only be a matter of following its back-trail-we will finally have a course to follow. We must set the portal to our backs and then simply move straight ahead. At the center of the circle… the Tower.”

Eddie opened his mouth to say. All right, let’s talk about this Tower. Finally, once and for all, let’s talk about it-what it is, what it means, and, most important of all, what happens to us when we get there. But no sound came out, and after a moment he closed his mouth again. This wasn’t the time-not now, with Roland in such obvious pain. Not now, with only the spark of their campfire to keep the night at bay.

“So now we come to the other part,” Roland said heavily. “I have finally found my course-after all the long years I have found my course-but at the same time I seem to be losing my sanity. I can feel it crumbling away beneath my feet, like a steep embankment which has been loosened by rain. This is my punishment for letting a boy who never existed fall to his death. And that is also ka.”

“Who is this boy, Roland?” Susannah asked.

Roland glanced at Eddie. “Do you know?”

Eddie shook his head.

“But I spoke of him,” Roland said. “In fact, I raved of him, when the infection was at its worst and I was near dying.” The gunslinger’s voice suddenly rose half an octave, and his imitation of Eddie’s voice was so good that Susannah felt a coil of superstitious fright. “If you don’t shut up about that goddam kid, Roland, I’ll gag you with your own shirt! I’m sick of hearing about him!’ Do you remember saying that, Eddie?””Eddie thought it over carefully. Roland had spoken of a thousand things as the two of them made their tortuous way up the beach from the door marked THE PRISONER to the one marked THE LADY OF THE SHADOWS, and he had mentioned what seemed like a thousand names in his fever-heated monologues-Alain, Cort, Jamie de Curry, Cuthbert (this one more often than all the others), Hax, Martin (or perhaps it was Marten, like the animal), Walter, Susan, even a guy with the unlikely name of Zoltan. Eddie had gotten very tired of hearing about these people he had never met (and didn’t care to meet), but of course Eddie had had a few problems of his own at that time, heroin withdrawal and cosmic jet-lag being only two of them. And, if he was to be fair, he guessed Roland had gotten as tired of Eddie’s own Fractured Fairy Tales-the ones about how he and Henry had grown up together and turned into junkies together-as Eddie had of Roland’s.

But he couldn’t remember ever telling Roland he would gag him with his own shirt if he didn’t stop talking about some kid.

“Nothing comes to you?” Roland asked. “Nothing at all?”

Was there something? Some far-off tickle, like the feeling of deja vu he’d gotten when he saw the slingshot hiding inside the chunk of wood jutting out of the stump? Eddie tried to find that tickle, but it was gone. He decided it had never been there in the first place; he only wanted it to be there, because Roland was hurting so badly.