Wizard and Glass

tumbling out of the waves each night.

Ka is a wheel, he thought. Or, as Eddie liked to say, whatever went around came around.

When the rope was finished, he fashioned a loop at the bottom of the braided section. Jake stepped a foot into it with perfect confidence, gripped the rope with one hand, and settled Oy into the crook of his other arm. Oy looked around nervously, whined, stretched his neck, licked Jake's face.

'You're not afraid, are you?' Jake asked the humbler.

' 'Fraid,' Oy agreed, but he was quiet enough as Roland and Eddie lowered Jake down the side of the Barony Coach. The rope wasn't quite long enough to take him all the way down, but Jake had no trouble twisting his foot free and dropping the last four feet. He set Oy down. The bumbler trotted off, sniffing, and lifted his leg against the side of the terminal building. This was nowhere near as grand as the Cradle of Lud, but it had an old-fashioned look that Roland liked—white boards, overhanging eaves, high, narrow windows, what looked like slate shingles. It was a Western look. Written in gold gilt on a sign which stretched above the terminal's line of doors was this message:

ATCHISON, TOPEKA, AND SANTA FE

Towns, Roland supposed, and that last one sounded familiar to him; had there not been a Santa Fe in the Barony of Mejis? But that led back toward Susan, lovely Susan at the window with her hair unbraided and all down her back, the smell of her like jasmine and rose and honeysuckle and old sweet hay, smells of which the oracle in the mountains had been able to make only the palest mimicry. Susan lying back and looking solemnly up at him, then smiling and putting her hands behind her head so that her breasts rose, as if aching for his hands.

If you love me, Roland, then love me . . . bird and bear and hare and fish…

'. . . next?'

He looked around at Eddie, having to use all of his will to pull himself back from Susan Delgado's when. There were thinnies here in Topeka, all right, and of many sorts. 'My mind was wandering, Eddie. Cry your pardon.'

'Susannah next? That's what I asked.'

Roland shook his head. 'You next, then Susannah. I'll go last.'

'Will you be okay? With your hand and all?'

'I'll be fine.'

Eddie nodded and stuck his foot into the loop. When Eddie had first come into Mid-World, Roland could have lowered him easily by himself, two fingers short the full complement or no, but Eddie had been without his drug for months now, and had put on ten or fifteen pounds of muscle. Roland accepted Susannah's help gladly enough, and together they lowered him down.

'Now you, lady,' Roland said, and smiled at her. It felt more natural to smile these days.

'Yes.' But for the nonce she only stood there, biting her lower lip.

'What is it?'

Her hand went to her stomach and rubbed there, as if it ached or griped her. He thought she would speak, but she shook her head and said, 'Nothing.'

'I don't believe that. Why do you rub your belly? Are you hurt? Were you hurt when we stopped?'

She took her hand off her tunic as if the flesh just south of her navel had grown hot. 'No. I'm fine.'

'Are you?'

Susannah seemed to think this over very carefully. 'We'll talk,' she said at last. 'We'll palaver, if you like that better. But you were right before, Roland—this isn't the place or time.'

'All four of us, or just you and me and Eddie?'

'Just you and me, Roland,' she said, and poked the stump of her leg through the loop. 'Just one hen and one rooster, at least to start with. Now lower away, if you please.'

He did, frowning down at her, hoping with all his heart that his first idea—the one that had come to mind as soon as he saw that restlessly rubbing hand—was wrong. Because she had been in the speaking ring, and the demon that denned there had had its way with her while Jake was trying to cross between the worlds. Sometimes—often— demonic contact changed things.

Never for the better, in Roland's experience.

He pulled his rope back up after Eddie had caught Susannah around the waist and helped her to the platform. The gunslinger walked forward to one of the piers which had torn through the train's bullet snout, fashioning the rope's end into a shake-loop as he went. He tossed this over the pier, snubbed it (being careful not to twitch the rope to the left), and then lowered himself to the platform himself, bent at the waist and leaving boot-tracks on Blaine's pink side.

'Too bad to lose the rope and harness,' Eddie remarked when Roland was beside them.

'I ain't sorry about that harness,' Susannah said. 'I'd rather crawl along the pavement until I got chewin-gum all the way up my arms to the elbows.'

'We haven't lost anything,' Roland said. He snugged his hand into the rawhide foot-loop and snapped it hard to the left. The rope slithered down from the pier, Roland gathering it in almost as fast as it came down.

'Neat trick!' Jake said.

'Eat! Rick!' Oy agreed.

'Cort?' Eddie asked.

'Cort,' Roland agreed, smiling.

'The drill instructor from hell,' Eddie said. 'Better you than me, Roland. Better you than me.'

4

As they walked toward the doors leading into the station, that low, liquid warbling sound began again. Roland was amused to see all three of his cohorts wrinkle their noses and pull down the comers of their mouths at the same time; it made them look like blood family as well as ka-tet. Susannah pointed toward the park. The signs looming over the 'trees were wavering slightly, the way things did in a heat-haze.

'Is that from the thinny?' Jake asked.

Roland nodded.

'Will we be able to get around it?'

'Yes. Thinnies are dangerous in much the way that swamps full of quicksand and saligs are dangerous.Do you know those things?'

'We know quicksand,' Jake said. 'And if saligs are long green things with big teeth, we know them, too.'

'That's what they are.'

Susannah turned to look back at Blaine one last time. 'No silly questions and no silly games. The book was right about that.' From Blaine she turned her eyes to Roland. 'What about Beryl Evans, the woman who wrote Charlie the Choo-Choo? Do you think she's part of this? That we might even meet her? I'd like to thank her. Eddie figured it out, but—'

'It's possible, I suppose,' Roland said, 'but on measure, I think not. My world is like a huge ship that sank near enough shore for most of the wreckage to wash up on the beach. Much of what we find is fascinating, some of it may be useful, if ka allows, but all of it is still wreckage. Senseless wreckage.' He looked around. 'Like this place, I think.'

'I wouldn't exactly call it wrecked,' Eddie said. 'Look at the paint on the station—it's a little rusty from the gutters up under the eaves, but it hasn't peeled anywhere that I can see.' He stood in front of the doors and ran his fingers down one of the glass panels. They left four clear tracks behind. 'Dust and plenty of it, but no cracks. I'd say that this building has been left unmaintained at most since .. . the start of the summer, maybe?'

He looked at Roland, who shrugged and nodded. He was listening with only half an ear and paying