“And yet Mia is real, Pere. I’ve seen her myself. Not in a dream, as Jake did, but with my own two eyes.”

“Exactly my point,” Callahan said. “She’s not an aspect of the woman who was born Odetta Susannah Holmes. She is she .”

“Does it make a difference?”

“I think it does. But here is one thing I can tell you for sure: no matter how things lie in your fellowship—your ka-tet—this must be kept a dead secret from the people of Calla Bryn Sturgis. Today, things are going your way. But if word got out that the female gunslinger with the brown skin might be carrying a demon-child, the folken ’d go the other way, and in a hurry. With Eben Took leading the parade. I know that in the end you’ll decide your course of action based on your own assessment of what the Calla needs, but the four of you can’t beat the Wolves without help, no matter how good you are with such calibers as you carry. There’s too much to manage.”

Reply was unneccessary. Callahan was right.

“What is it you fear most?” Callahan asked.

“The breaking of the tet,” Roland said at once.

“By that you mean Mia’s taking control of the body they share and going off on her own to have the child?”

“If that happened at the wrong time, it would be bad, but all might still come right. If Susannah came back. But what she carries is nothing but poison with a heartbeat.” Roland looked bleakly at the religious in his black clothes. “I have every reason to believe it would begin its work by slaughtering the mother.”

“The breaking of the tet,” Callahan mused. “Not the death of your friend, but the breaking of the tet. I wonder if your friends know what sort of man you are, Roland?”

“They know,” Roland said, and on that subject said no more.

“What would you have of me?”

“First, an answer to a question. It’s clear to me that Rosalita knows a good deal of rough doctoring. Would she know enough to turn the baby out before its time? And the stomach for what she might find?”

They would all have to be there, of course—he and Eddie, Jake, too, as little as Roland liked the thought of it. Because the thing inside her had surely quickened by now, and even if its time hadn’t come, it would be dangerous. And its time is almost certainly close, he thought. I don’t know it for sure, but I feel it. I —

The thought broke off as he became aware of Callahan’s expression: horror, disgust, and mounting anger.

“Rosalita would never do such a thing. Mark well what I say. She’d die first.”

Roland was perplexed. “Why?”

“Because she’s a Catholic!”

“I don’t understand.”

Callahan saw the gunslinger really did not, and the sharpest edge of his anger was blunted. Yet Roland sensed that a great deal remained, like the bolt behind the head of an arrow. “It’s abortion you’re talking about!”