In fact, Mordred gave Walter o' Dim far too much credit, but isn't that a trait of the young, perhaps even a survival skill? To a wide-eyed lad, the tacky tricks of the world's most ham-fisted prestidigitator look like miracles. Walter did not actually realize what was happening until very late in the game, but he was a wily old survivor, tell ya true, and when understanding came, it came entire.
There's a phrase, the elephant in the living room, which purports to describe what it's like to live with a drug addict, an alcoholic, an abuser. People outside such relationships will sometimes ask, "How could you let such a business go on for so many years? Didn't you see the elephant in the living mam?" And it's so hard for anyone living in a more normal situation to understand the answer that comes closest to the truth: "I'm sorry, but it was there when I moved in. I didn't know it was an elephant; I thought it was part of the furniture." There comes an for some folks-the lucky ones-when they suddenly recognize the difference. And that moment came for Walter. It came too late, but not by much.
Y'tvon't shit on me, will you-that was the question he asked, but between the word shit and the phrase on me, he suddenly realized there was an intruder in his house... and it had been there all along. Not a baby, either; this was a gangling, slopeheaded adolescent with pockmarked skin and dully curious eyes. It was perhaps the best, truest visualization Walter could have made for Mordred Deschain as he at that moment existed: a teenage housebreaker, probably high on some aerosol cleaning product.
And he had been there all the time! God, how could he not have known? The housebreaker hadn't even been hiding! He had been right out in the open, standing there against the wall, gape-mouthed and taking it all in.
His plans for bringing Mordred with him-of using him to end Roland's life (if the guards at the devar-toi couldn't do it first, that was), then killing the litde bastard and taking his valuable left foot-collapsed in an instant. In the next one a new plan arose, and it was simplicity itself. Mustn't let him see that I know. One shot, that's all I can risk, and only because I must risk it.
Then I run. If he's dead, fine. If not, perhaps he'll starve before-
Then Walter realized his hand had stopped. Four fingers had closed around the butt of the gun in the jacket pocket, but they were now frozen. One was very near the trigger, but he couldn't move that, either. It might as well have been buried in cement. And now Walter clearly saw the shining wire for the first time. It emerged from the toothless pink-gummed mouth of the baby sitting in the chair, crossed the room, glittering beneath the lights, and then encircled him at chest-level, binding his arms to his sides. He understood the wire wasn't really there... but at the same time, it was.
He couldn't move.
FOUR
Mordred didn't see the shining wire, perhaps because he'd never read Watership Down. He'd had the chance to explore Susannah's mind, however, and what he saw now was remarkably like Susannah's Dogan. Only instead of switches saying things sj like CHAP and EMOTIONAL TEMP, he saw ones that controlled f Walter's ambulation (this one he quickly turned to OFF), cogitation, and motivation. It was certainly a more complex setup than the one in the young bumbler's head-there he'd found nothing but a few simple nodes, like granny knots-but still not difficult to operate.
The only problem was that he was a baby.
A damned baby stuck in a chair.
If he really meant to change this delicatessen on legs into cold-cuts, he'd have to move quickly.
FIVE
Walter o' Dim was not too old to be gullible, he understood that now-he'd underestimated the little monster, relying too much on what it looked like and not enough on his own knowledge of what it was-but he was at least beyond the young man's trap of total panic.
If he means to do anything besides sit in that chair and look at me, he'll have to change. When he does, his control may slip. That'll be my chance. It's not much, but it's the only one I have left.
At that moment he saw a brilliant red light run down the baby's skin from crown to toes. In the wake of it, the chubbypink bah-bo's body began to darken and swell, the spider's legs bursting out through his sides. At the same instant, the shining wire coming out of the baby's mouth disappeared and Walter felt the suffocating band which had been holding him in place disappear.
No time to risk even a single shot, not now. Run. Run from him... from it. That's all you can do. You never should have come here in the first place. You let your hatred of the gunslinger blind you, but it still may not be too la-