Dark Tower: The

He stepped inside, and for the first time in a thousand years, the gunslinger felt the wind change direction.

Around its base, the field of Can'-Ka No Rey was no longer filled with red roses. They had turned white, then translucent, then disappeared entirely. In their place grew teeth. Thousands of them, pushing up through the soil like jagged grave markers. The Dark Tower

Roland didn't turn. He knew the voice of the boy, Jake, though the boy had been dead and reborn more times than Roland had fingers. Jake sat on a stump of petrified wood, tossing a gold coin that vanished every time it hit his palm. He stepped inside, and for the first time

Roland pulled the horn from his belt. It was cold, smelling of ancient battles and lost honor. He didn't wait for the second toll. He put the horn to his lips and blew a note that defied the fading light. It was a brassy, defiant roar that tasted of gunpowder and home. The teeth in the ground shattered. The white sky cracked. In their place grew teeth

"If the bell rings three times, the doors stay shut forever," Jake whispered. "The cycle doesn't reset. We just... stay in the dark."

"The Man in Black?" Roland asked, his voice like grinding stones.