“You say true, Eddie. Is there a point? If so, I hope you’ll get to it. Time is no longer just a face on the water, as you yourself pointed out. It’s become a precious commodity.”

Again he expected a patented Eddie Dean outburst complete with phrases such as kiss my ass or eat shit and die . Again, no such outburst came. Eddie was looking at him, that was all. Steadily and a little sorrowfully. Sorry for Susannah, of course, but also for the two of them. The two of them standing here and conspiring against one of the tet.

“I’m going to go along with you,” Eddie said, “but not because you’re the dinh, and not because one of those two is apt to come back brainless from Thunderclap.” He pointed to the pair of kids the Old Fella was talking to in his living room. “I’d trade every kid in this town for the one Suze is carrying. If it was a kid. My kid.”

“I know you would,” Roland said.

“It’s the rose I care about,” Eddie said. “That’s the only thing worth risking her for. But even so, you’ve got to promise me that if things go wrong—if she goes into labor, or if this Mia chick starts taking over—we’ll try to save her.”

“I would always try to save her,” Roland said, and then had a brief, nightmare image—brief but very clear—of Jake dangling over the drop under the mountains.

“You swear that?” Eddie asked.

“Yes,” Roland said. His eyes met those of the younger man. In his mind, however, he saw Jake falling into the abyss.

Seven

They reached the rectory door just as Callahan was ushering the two young people out. They were, Roland thought, very likely the most gorgeous children he had ever seen. Their hair was black as coal, the boy’s shoulder-length, the girl’s bound by a white ribbon and falling all the way to her bottom. Their eyes were dark, perfect blue. Their skin was creamy-pale, their lips a startling, sensuous red. There were faint spatters of freckles on their cheeks. So far as Roland could tell, the spatters were also identical. They looked from him to Eddie and then back to Susannah, who leaned in the kitchen doorway with a dish-wiper in one hand and a coffee cup in the other. Their shared expression was one of curious wonder. He saw caution in their faces, but no fear.

“Roland, Eddie, I’d like you to meet the Tavery twins, Frank and Francine. Rosalita fetched them—the Taverys live not half a mile away, do ya. You’ll have your map by this afternoon, and I doubt if you’ll ever have seen a finer one in all your life. It’s but one of the talents they have.”

The Tavery twins made their manners, Frank with a bow and Francine with a curtsy.