The group looked smaller at first glance because so many of the faces were the same—the face of the Anselm girl, for instance, was nearly the face of the boy next to her. Her twin brother. Almost all the kids in Andy’s group were twins. Susannah suddenly realized how eerie this was, like all the strange doublings they’d encountered caught in a bottle. Her stomach turned over. And she felt the first twinge of pain above her left eye. Her hand began to rise toward the tender spot.

No,she told herself, I don’t feel that . She made the hand go back down. There was no need to rub her brow. No need to rub what didn’t hurt.

Andy pointed his baton at a strutting, pudgy little boy who couldn’t have been more than eight. He sang the words out in a high and childish treble that made the other kids laugh.

“Commala-come-t’ree!

You know what t’be

Plant d’rice commala

and d’rice’ll make ya free!”

To which the chorus replied:

“Commala-come-t’ree!

Rice’ll make ya free!

When ya plant the rice commala

You know jus’ what to be!”

Andy saw Roland’s ka-tet and waved his baton cheerily. So did the children…half of whom would come back drooling and roont if the parade-marshal had his way. They would grow to the size of giants, screaming with pain, and then die early.

Four

“Wave back,” Roland said, and raised his hand. “Wave back, all of you, for the sake of your fathers.”

Eddie flashed Andy a happy, toothy grin. “How you doing, you cheapshit Radio Shack dickweed?” he asked. The voice coming through his grin was low and savage. He gave Andy a double thumbs-up. “How you doing, you robot psycho? Say fine? Say thankya! Say bite my bag!”

Jake burst out laughing at that. They all continued waving and smiling. The children waved and smiled back. Andy also waved. He led his merry band down the high street, chanting Commala-come-four! River’s at the door!

“They love him,” Callahan said. There was a strange, sick expression of disgust on his face. “Generations of children have loved Andy.”

“That,” Roland remarked, “is about to change.”

Four

“Further questions?” Roland asked when Andy and the children were gone. “Ask now if you will. It could be your last chance.”

“What about Tian Jaffords?” Callahan asked. “In a very real sense it was Tian who started this. There ought to be a place for him at the finish.”

Roland nodded. “I have a job for him. One he and Eddie will do together. Pere, that’s a fine privy down below Rosalita’s cottage. Tall. Strong.”

Callahan raised his eyebrows. “Aye, say thankya. ’Twas Tian and his neighbor, Hugh Anselm, who built it.”

“Could you put a lock on the outside of it in the next few days?”

“I could but—”

“If things go well no lock will be necessary, but one can never be sure.”

“No,” Callahan said. “I suppose one can’t. But I can do as you ask.”