14/03/2026 18:14

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9The orange grove was a neatly kept rectangle of about a dozen rows at the end of a partly overgrown cart-track. “Hile,” he said softly, and the pigeon stepped into his palm. Alain suspected the three of them would have Hambry on their tongues long after they had wiped its dust from their boots. Always had been, always would be.

Alain looked at Roland with dismayed eyes and pointed to the left. “I wot,” he said, a phrase which seemed to mean Reckon so, partner. The In-World boys had struck unerringly at the fracture-line; were performing what amounted to a textbook example of how gunslingers were supposed to attack when the odds were bad. He carried a tray loaded with four glasses of white tea and bent down with it like a butler.