"Go thee a little further," Roland said.
Jake looked at him questioningly, and Roland nodded. The wind blew, bringing them the Muzak from the prison compound
(now he thought it was "Bridge Over Troubled Water"),
also bringing the distant sound of thunder, like rolling bones.
"What-"
"Follow," Roland said, nodding to the stony talus on the slope of the path.
Jake did, knowing this was another lesson-with Roland you were always in school. Even when you were in the shadow of death there were lessons to be learned.
On the far side of the boulder, the path carried on straight for about thirty yards before curving out of sight once more. On this straight stretch, those dash-marks were very clear. Groups of three on one side, groups of four on the other.
"She said she shot off one of its legs," Jake said.
"So she did."
Jake tried to visualize a seven-legged spider as big as a human baby and couldn't do it. Suspected he didn't want to do it.
Beyond the next curve there was a desiccated corpse in the path. Jake was pretty sure it had been flayed open, but it was hard to tell. There were no innards, no blood, no buzzing flies.
Just a lump of dirty, dusty stuff that vaguely-very vaguely-resembled something canine.
Oy approached, sniffed, then lifted his leg and pissed on the remains. He returned to Jake's side with the air of one who has concluded some important piece of business.
"That was our visitor's dinner last night," Roland said.
Jake was looking around. "Is he watching us now? What do you think?"
Roland said, "I think growing boys need their rest."
Jake felt a twinge of some unpleasant emotion and put it behind him without much examination. Jealousy? Surely not.
How could he be jealous of a thing that had begun life by eating its own mother? It was blood-kin to Roland, yes-his true son, if you wanted to be picky about it-but that was no more than an accident.
Wasn't it?
Jake became aware that Roland was looking at him closely, looking in a way that made Jake uneasy.
"Penny for em, dimmy-da," the gunslinger said.
"Nothing," Jake said. 'Just wondering where he's laid up."
"Hard to tell," Roland said. "There's got to be a hundred holes in this hill alone. Come."
Roland led the way back around the boulder where Jake had found the stiff black hairs, and once he was there, he began to methodically scuff away the tracks Mordred had left behind.
"Why are you doing that?" Jake asked, more sharply than he had intended.
"There's no need for Eddie and Susannah to know about this," Roland said. "He only means to watch, not to interfere in our business. At least for the time being."
How do you know, Jake wanted to ask, but that twinge came again-the one that absolutely couldn't be jealousy-and he decided not to. Let Roland think whatever he wanted.
Jake, meanwhile, would keep his eyes open. And if Mordred should be foolish enough to show himself...
"It's Susannah I'm most concerned about," Roland said.
"She's the one most likely to be distracted by the chap's presence.
And her thoughts would be the easiest for him to read."
"Because she's its mother," Jake said. He didn't notice the change of pronoun, but Roland did.
"The two of them are connected, aye. Can I count on you to keep your mouth shut?"
"Sure."
"And try to guard your mind-that's important, as well."
"I can try, but..." Jake shrugged in order to say that he didn't really know how one did that.
"Good," Roland said. "And I'll do the same."
The wind gusted again. "Bridge Over Troubled Water" had changed to (Jake was pretty sure) a Beatles tune, the one with the chorus that ended Beep-beep-mmm-beep-beep, yeah! Did they know that one in the dusty, dying towns between Gilead and Mejis? Jake wondered. Were there Shebs in some of those towns that played "Drive My Car" jagtime on out-of-tune pianos while the Beams weakened and the glue that held the worlds together slowly stretched into strings and the worlds themselves sagged?
He gave his head a hard, brisk shake, trying to clear it.
Roland was still watching him, and Jake felt an uncharacteristic flash of irritation. "I'll keep my mouth shut, Roland, and at least try to keep my thoughts to myself. Don't worry about me."
"I'm not worried," Roland said, and Jake found himself fighting the temptation to look inside his dinh's head and find out if that was actually true. He still thought looking was a bad idea, and not just because it was impolite, either. Mistrust was very likely a kind of acid. Their ka-tet was fragile enough already, and there was much work to do.
"Good," Jake said. "That's good."
"Good!" Oy agreed, in a hearty that's settled tone that made them both grin.
"We know he's there," Roland said, "and it's likely he doesn't know we know. Under the circumstances, there's no better way for things to be."