STORM’S OVER
1 “That night,” Roland said, “there were lights and music and dancing; many good things to eat and plenty of liquor to wash it down with.” “Booze,” Eddie said, and heaved a seriocomic sigh. “I remember it well.” It was the first thing any of them had said in a very long time, and it broke the spell that had held them through that long and windy night. They stirred like people awaking from a deep dream. All except Oy, who still lay on his back in front of the fireplace with his short paws splayed and the tip of his tongue lolling comically from the side of his mouth. Roland nodded. “There were women, too, and that night Silent Jamie left his virginity behind him. The next morning we reboarded Sma’ Toot, and made our way back to Gilead. And so it happened, once upon a bye.” “Long be<strong>for</strong>e my grandfather’s grandfather was born,” Jake said in a low voice. “Of that I can’t say,” Roland said with a slight smile, and then took a long drink of water. His throat was very dry. For a moment there was silence among them. Then Eddie said, “<strong>Thank</strong> <strong>you</strong>, Roland. That was boss.” The gunslinger raised an eyebrow. “He means it was wonderful,” Jake said. “It was, too.” “I see light around the boards we put over the windows,” Susannah said. “Just a little, but it’s there. You talked down the dark, Roland. I guess <strong>you</strong>’re not the strong silent Gary Cooper type after all, are <strong>you</strong>?” “I don’t know who that is.” She took his hand and gave it a brief hard squeeze. “Ne’mine, sugar.” “Wind’s dropped, but it’s still blowing pretty hard,” Jake observed. “We’ll build up the fire, then sleep,” the gunslinger said. “This afternoon it should be warm enough <strong>for</strong> us to go out and gather more wood. And tomorrowday . . .” “Back on the road,” Eddie finished. “As <strong>you</strong> say, Eddie.” Roland put the last of their fuel on the guttering fire, watched as it sprang up again, then lay down and closed his eyes. Seconds later, he was asleep. Eddie gathered Susannah into his arms, then looked over her shoulder at Jake, who was sitting cross-legged and looking into the fire. “Time to catch <strong>for</strong>ty winks, little trailhand.” “Don’t call me that. You know I hate it.” “Okay, buckaroo.” Jake gave him the finger. Eddie smiled and closed his eyes. The boy gathered his blanket around him. My shaddie, he thought, and smiled. Beyond the walls, the wind still moaned—a voice without a body. Jake thought, It’s on the other side of the keyhole. And over there, where the wind comes from? All of eternity. And the Dark Tower. He thought of the boy Roland Deschain had been an unknown number of years ago, lying in a circular bedroom at the top of a stone tower. Tucked up cozy and listening to his mother read the old tales while the wind blew across the dark land. As he drifted, Jake saw the woman’s face and thought it kind as well as beautiful. His own mother had never read him stories. In his plot and place, that had been the housekeeper’s job. He closed his eyes and saw billy-bumblers on their hind legs, dancing in the moonlight. He slept. 2 When Roland woke in the early afternoon, the wind was down to a whisper and the room was much brighter. Eddie and Jake were still deeply asleep, but Susannah had awakened, boosted herself into her wheelchair, and removed the boards blocking one of the windows. Now she sat there with her chin propped on her hand, looking out. Roland went to her and put his own hand on her shoulder. Susannah reached up and patted it without turning around. “Storm’s over, sugar.” “Yes. Let’s hope we never see another like it.” “And if we do, let’s hope there’s a shelter as good as <strong>this</strong> one close by. As <strong>for</strong> the rest of Gook village . . .” She shook her head. Roland bent a little to look out. What he saw didn’t surprise him, but it was what Eddie would have called awesome. The high street was still there, but it was full of branches and shattered trees. The buildings that had lined it were gone. Only the stone meeting hall remained. “We were lucky, weren’t we?” “Luck’s the word those with poor hearts use <strong>for</strong> ka, Susannah of New York.”
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In The Wind Through the Keyhole, St
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OTHER DARK TOWER-RELATED WORKS BY S
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SCRIBNER A Division of Simon & Schu
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CONTENTS Foreword Starkblast The Sk
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STARKBLAST
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Oy was beyond them, at the edge of
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That volume, Magic Tales of the Eld
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The town well was on the other side
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“Come,” Roland said. “Eat.”
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Not long after the death of my moth
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At that moment, we were thrown forw
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“They may still be a year or more
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world we grew up in, young men, the
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on, hide them, then come back to th
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wheels farther north, were the rock
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uried—buried in people’s minds
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and it grabs the men . . . it grabs
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- Page 39 and 40: THE WIND THROUGH THE KEYHOLE
- Page 41 and 42: “I don’t know what you mean.”
- Page 43 and 44: seemed to do it without knowing the
- Page 45 and 46: to think about reading the Widow Sm
- Page 47 and 48: the drink, and he promised me, but
- Page 49 and 50: I’ll count to a hundred and then
- Page 51 and 52: Tim barely noticed. “I have to go
- Page 53 and 54: nightgown, but now the neck and bos
- Page 55 and 56: This time Tim had taken Misty, and
- Page 57 and 58: Covenant Man had made any particula
- Page 59 and 60: The moon was down when Tim dismount
- Page 61 and 62: If that wasn’t bad enough, there
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- Page 65 and 66: They rose and scrambled back into t
- Page 67 and 68: “Use the green navigation sensor,
- Page 69 and 70: Daria didn’t reply, but Tim didn
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- Page 75 and 76: He skirted the town, for he didn’
- Page 77 and 78: *Which sounds like S, in the Low Sp
- Page 79 and 80: “She told him not to look at what
- Page 81 and 82: They drew back, Pickens glaring at
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- Page 91 and 92: AFTERWORD In the High Speech, Gabri