Roland began to walk. His boots clicked against the teeth. He didn't think about the countless miles behind him or the ghosts that trailed in his wake like smoke. He thought only of the weight of the horn in his bag—the Horn of Eld, which he had finally remembered to pick up at the hill of Jericho Hill.
He stepped inside, and for the first time in a thousand years, the gunslinger felt the wind change direction. The Dark Tower
"Go then," Roland whispered, though whether he spoke to Jake, the Tower, or himself, he did not know. "There are other worlds than these." Roland began to walk
As he reached the foot of the Tower, the first toll of the bell shook the ground. The sound wasn't metal on metal; it was the sound of a billion voices screaming "Goodbye" at once. He thought only of the weight of the
"The Man in Black?" Roland asked, his voice like grinding stones.
"Worse," Jake said. "The Tower is shivering. It’s not just the beams anymore. Someone is ringing the bell at the top."
Roland pulled the horn from his belt. It was cold, smelling of ancient battles and lost honor. He didn't wait for the second toll. He put the horn to his lips and blew a note that defied the fading light. It was a brassy, defiant roar that tasted of gunpowder and home. The teeth in the ground shattered. The white sky cracked.
Roland began to walk. His boots clicked against the teeth. He didn't think about the countless miles behind him or the ghosts that trailed in his wake like smoke. He thought only of the weight of the horn in his bag—the Horn of Eld, which he had finally remembered to pick up at the hill of Jericho Hill.
He stepped inside, and for the first time in a thousand years, the gunslinger felt the wind change direction.
"Go then," Roland whispered, though whether he spoke to Jake, the Tower, or himself, he did not know. "There are other worlds than these."
As he reached the foot of the Tower, the first toll of the bell shook the ground. The sound wasn't metal on metal; it was the sound of a billion voices screaming "Goodbye" at once.
"The Man in Black?" Roland asked, his voice like grinding stones.
"Worse," Jake said. "The Tower is shivering. It’s not just the beams anymore. Someone is ringing the bell at the top."
Roland pulled the horn from his belt. It was cold, smelling of ancient battles and lost honor. He didn't wait for the second toll. He put the horn to his lips and blew a note that defied the fading light. It was a brassy, defiant roar that tasted of gunpowder and home. The teeth in the ground shattered. The white sky cracked.