Hours later, they were plodding steadily northward. Robby had protested vigorously at first, but in the end he gave up: the overwhelming importance of this matter could not be ignored, ultimately.

They must warn the Guardian of the nearest portal—if such a creature actually did exist still. If Babar the Elephant had disappeared somehow, then… well, they would cross that bridge when they came to it.

As they trekked through the frozen fields, Daniel instructed them in the basics of wildlife survival, though they were not nearly so soft as they might have been if they had lived anywhere bigger than Deepwood. They took to the lessons of craft well: the knife he had bought in Barstow he entrusted to Gwyn, and he gave the ugly dagger to Robby (though he still refused to take the pistol, against all reason).

With these implements, they would take cuttings from the occasional tree they saw and work them as they broke for meals throughout the day. It was awkward work at first, but before long they were crafting snares and other basic tools that might help as they travelled. Robby made a wooden drill bit for fire-making just in case the flint and steel was lost somehow, while Gwyn hacked straight flakes of wood away to reveal a sharp stake. “Just in case,” she said defensively, though she blushed and tossed it away when Daniel reminded her she already had a perfectly good knife.

Meanwhile, the sheep—which Gwyn had taken to calling Fiona—trailed behind them, deceptively quiet most of the time. Whenever they stopped to eat, Fiona would butt her head against someone or another’s hand, fiending for pats. They would indulge her, and give her a bit of carrot to munch at besides.

The three of them kept the transceiver on and at full loudness, listening as the occasional report went through. Most of it was minor, mostly what they deemed to be mandatory check-ins and all-clears, though some information was decidedly of ill nature: twice they heard of someone from Deepwood being caught, one a man who was made to work in the camp hauling equipment around, the other a woman who was turned loose among the camp for the amusement of the soldiers therein.

Daniel silently thanked Gan that they were spared details, though Gwyn’s face took on a dark pall anyway when he cast his eye at her.

Then the soft, gray sky began to darken again, and it was time to set up their own camp. They harvested dry brush and wood from a thicket nearby and tested Robby’s new wood drill. When it fell apart (“Was afraid that might happen,” he said sheepily), they defaulted to the flint and steel instead. Piling snow up in a ring around them to hide the firelight in case of a scout, they felt exhaustion from a day of traveling set in quickly. They bundled up tightly in their blankets and curled close to the flames, falling asleep quickly.

In this manner, they moved on for several days. Though Robby was clearly displeased at this turn of his life, he never put voice to it (or at least Daniel did not hear it). Gwyn, on the other hand, was quite excited: the importance of what they were doing was not lost on her, not entirely, but she was more enchanted by it than anything. She had dreamed of traveling by the Beams ever since Daniel had first told her of their existence, and every day that brought them closer to the Path of the Elephant saw her a little more bright-eyed, a little more energetic.

In another life, he thought, she would surely have sought the Tower.

In a more private part of his mind, he thought she might do so anyway, once all was said and done.

Eventually, Robby accepted Daniel’s instructions in the handling of the golden pistol, and one afternoon they set camp early so they would have ample light to work with. His hand trembled to take it at first, and Daniel decided to take it back until Robby could calm his shaking. When the burly man found himself able to continue, Daniel held out the gun by its barrel, offering the grip to Robby.

It was surprisingly heavy in his hand, but the handle was nicely contoured and fit well in his palm.

“Keep your finger off the trigger for now. Hold your finger out to the side of the guard just in front of it. Yes, just like that,” Daniel guided him. “There’s the safety,” he pointed at the little switch, “there’s the magazine release.” Gwyn listened to these instructions too, rapt with attention. The freshly lit fire glinted in her eyes, which seemed unusually intense tonight as she watched.

“I thought gunslingers didn’ use pistols,” Robby side-eyed him.

“They don’t, generally.”

“Then how d’ye know all this?”

“Our training was very thorough; we were meant to be prepared for anything.” Daniel felt a sadness steal away in him. “… Though it doesn’t seem that it helped them in the end. I don’t know if there are any gunslingers left anymore.”

“Ye seem to be doin’ well enough for yerself,” Robby replied smoothly.

“I’m not a gunslinger, Robby,” he admonished him gently. “Pull back on the slide at the top to load the chamber and set the firing pin. This is called ‘cocking,’ and you only need to do this once, whenever you load a new magazine.” Daniel waited. “Well? Go ahead.”

Robby gave a nervous chuckle. “Gimme a second, Danny.” He laid his left hand on top of the slide and tugged it back, weakly at first. It didn’t budge.

“You have to give it a little muscle,” Daniel smiled. “Don’t worry, it’s not going to bite you. Remember, keep your finger off the trigger. You’ll not want to touch it until you’re pointed at something you actually want to shoot.”

“For the sake of the Man Jesus, just lemme…” Robby uttered an oath under his breath. Daniel found himself surprised by just how scared Robby was. Perhaps he had underestimated how hard it would be for the man to give up his taboo.

After all, he had his own restrictions, and he had no intention of going against them.

Robby was actually squeezing his own eyes shut as he pulled at the slide. It began to shift, just a hair… and then all at once it snapped back. Robby gave a little cry at the motion, and the trembling in his hands was back.

“Well done. Maybe in a few weeks’ time we’ll actually be able to load it,” Daniel grinned.

Mystified, Robby lifted the gun to inspect the bottom to find that the magazine had been taken out completely. As he looked, Daniel and Gwyn erupted into laughter as her father’s bemused face turned to annoyance. Fiona bleated at the noise, looking at them. Shame on you louts, she seemed to say, and resumed grazing nearby.

“Cry your pardon, Robby,” Daniel wiped away a tear between laughs. “I was never going to load it before you were well and ready. I just couldn’t resist.” And he was off laughing again.

“Yer an arse, Danny boy,” but even as he said it Robby started to chuckle himself. “It’s not that hard anyway.”

“Oh?” Danny sighed with mirth. “Well, do it again then, and try not to look like you’ve got your hands in a dog’s teeth while you’re at it. Here,” he pointed again, his face set for teaching once more. “That’s the slide release. You could pull the trigger to release the slide, but you can damage the firing mechanism if you do that while it’s unloaded, what’s called a ‘dry fire.’ If you ever want to uncock without firing the gun, this is how you do it anyway…”

The instructions continued well into the night, with Robby practicing his handling. As they turned in for the night, Daniel nodded. “Well done. Really, friend: you were so afraid when we started that I thought you would drop the pistol instead.”

“Like I said, ‘s not that bad really,” Robby scratched at the back of his head.

“Good to hear. Tomorrow, we’ll actually try shooting. Perhaps if we see anything to hunt, you can practice your aim and score us dinner too.”

The snow melted away from the rolling hills over some days as they passed through, and eventually they started running across more stands of trees. The ground turned hard underfoot, making for easier traveling. Daniel found their pace satisfactory.

They kept the transceiver on—checking its power through the help menu, the flat female voice had reported “38% battery life, an estimated time of 764 years, nine months, twelve days, two hours and 48 minutes remaining.” Consequently, they figured eavesdropping should be no issue.

Not much information passed through to them, which was frustrating, but sensible. A system of communication like this was useful, but would also be prone to abuse. What information they did glean included the rough size of the army hunting for the Beam (on the order of 15,000 or so, an absolutely terrifying number to Robby and Gwyn), the fact that Roedrick Davram himself was head of command, and that despite the absurd number of people, they were roughly keeping pace with the small band of travelers somehow.

This latter fact bewildered Daniel, though one day he heard mention of “electric carts,” and understanding dawned in him. “They have war machines,” he explained to the other two. “Gan knows where they got them from these days, but it must be enough for the slowest of them to ride.” There was little they could do about this, and so went about their travels.

Daniel did hear more and more reports of illness throughout the camp as they passed northward. Thinking on it, the descriptions reminded him much of passages he had found in old tomes, back in the library of Gilead. After hearing it enough times, he was certain: they were experiencing what the Great Ones had called “radiation sickness.”

He hoped it would take them all before long.

One day, they found themselves mucking through wet, flat marshes. Warm moisture rose into the air at points, creating pillows of fog that glided across the terrain and made them feel as if they walked amongst clouds. The actual clouds overhead had lessened some of late, and the occasional sunbeam struck the fog and turned it aglow.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Eventually, they found themselves standing in front of a dense nest of short, drooping trees that seemed to emerge from nowhere.

“Strange,” Daniel remarked as he examined them.

“What’s strange about it?” Robby ventured to ask.

“These are willows,” he responded shortly. “That by itself isn’t so odd, though I didn’t think willow trees grew so far north. No,” he continued, “what’s strange is that the foliage is unseasonably green. See how full the leaves are?” He pointed at the gently lilting branches, and indeed every leaf on every tree seemed possessed by the vigor of spring, which was still a month or more out.

“Huh,” Gwyn tilted her head. “The grass looks better around them, too.”

“Yes, but that’s not all. Look,” he swept his arm in an arc to indicate the ground outside the trees.

As soon as they looked closer, Robby and Gwyn saw it clearly: there was a stark demarcation between the trees and the rest of the land around them, a ring where the turf inside was suddenly springier, livelier, and everything outside was still the faded brown-yellow of cold winter.

“By Man Jesus,” Robby whistled. “This place is uncanny.”

“Aye, a good assessment,” Daniel agreed. “This grove must be the home of dryads. Powerful ones, too: willows have been an occult symbol of strength since ancient times,” he slipped into his teaching voice. “If they can keep their home this vibrant, so far away from where such trees normally grow…” Daniel bit his lip. “They could be dangerous.”

“Baa,” Fiona called at them. For her part, she walked freely into the circle of life and began munching away.

“Dryads are spirits of nature,” Daniel continued his impromptu lecture. “They exist and commune with the plants and animals around them freely. With men...” he tilted his head. “It depends. If someone were to bring the trappings of civilization with them into the grove, they would be attacked on the spot. Burnt wood, metal, cloth. Man-made materials like this are offensive to their being.”

“Then why don’t we just go around?” Robby interjected.

“Because,” Daniel said, “they are also beings of great knowledge, and they may answer questions if they find a visitor agreeable enough.”

“Sounds like an Oracle,” Robby muttered. “Evil beings.”

“Not quite, though Oracles are similar. I’m surprised you’ve heard of them,” Daniel said with a peculiar excitement in his voice. “The differences are complicated,” Danny replied offhandedly. “Remind me to offer details later. For now,” he sighed seriously, “I’m going inside.”

“Danny, didn’t ye just say they’d kill ye? This is madness,” Robby countermanded him.

“It should be fine as long as I leave my things outside,” Daniel waved him off. “Besides, we need to know where the Beam lies. We could have passed it by now, for all we know, and that’s not a chance we can afford to take.”

Robby said nothing at this, though he sighed and crossed his arms.

Gwyn, for her part, was looking into the grove, a fey look in her brown eyes. “Danny, take Fiona with you.”

He blinked and nodded. “Aye, a good suggestion. She may put them at ease. Now look away, if you please.” He laid down his staff and bag, and began peeling his clothes off. Gwyn rolled her eyes and turned about face, staring back the way they came.

“What are we supposed to do if ye don’t come back out?”

“You have the gun with you, yes? That should keep you safe and f-fed for a while.” Daniel’s teeth chattered in the chill, with no protection to speak of.

“There’s only so many bullets, Danny. They won’t last forever.”

“Th-then hope it will last you long enough.” Stripped to his nethers, Daniel stepped into the ring of lush vegetation. The cold of the day immediately disappeared, and he felt smothered instead by warmth he would have associated with summer.

His head felt cloudier too, and he steadied himself with a hand held to his temple. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. If I’m not back within a few hours, assume I’ve been taken for a sacrifice and move on. Cry your pardon if it comes to that. Come on,” he said to Fiona, and she stopped chewing at blades of grass to follow him deeper into the grove of the dryads. Branches rustled as he parted them with an upraised arm, and the two were quickly gone from sight.

Once he had fully disappeared, Gwyn turned around and gathered up Daniel’s belongings to keep them from getting too wet. She stared after where he had disappeared into the thicket.

As inviting as the foliage looked, she could not help but feel that it was uncomfortably quiet. She could hear neither the keening of birds in the trees nor the whining of small bugs in the underbrush.

For spirits of nature, this place felt mighty unnatural, she thought. Yet, they waited as they had been asked.

As the sun blazed in between the floating mountains in the sky, their worry increased gradually. They idled it away in uncomfortable silence. Gwyn would have practiced her toolmaking, but Daniel’s warning echoed in her head: the dryads didn’t like metal, apparently, and she was not about to flash her knife in front of the trees.

Once they had estimated a few hours had gone by, they looked eagerly for Daniel… but he did not appear between the trees, nor did they hear any sort of noise that might be him marching through the undergrowth.

A knot of worry formed in Robby’s stomach. Though with Daniel’s instruction they had become adept to make their way, he had not truly thought they would be left alone like this. The thought of traipsing around so far away from home with no guide filled him with vicious anxiety.

Gwyn merely stared into the copse, concentrating. There was a hardness in her eyes, and after a few minutes…

“Dad, he’s over on the other side. We need to get to him, quickly.”

“What?” Robby yelped. “How d’ye know that?”

“Just listen to me” she said hotly, “he’s freezing to death.” She took off with Daniel’s things, stomping through the wet marshes as she made sure to avoid crossing into the green ring of the groveland.

Robby followed, cowed somewhat by his daughter’s fierceness. The going was slow, frustrated by mud that sucked at their boots and threatened to trip them up if they weren’t careful.

Finally, after following the curve of the grove for half an hour, they stumbled upon Daniel’s naked form, curled up in the mud just outside the green circle. Fiona’s wool was tangled with the stuff, and though she had tried to lay down next to him to keep him warm, his skin was steadily losing color in the gentle but cold wind that twisted and curled the fog around them.

They got him up out of the mud and onto a patch of grass, wrapping him in their blankets.

Robby was fit to burst at his friend, even as he tried to rub warmth into the short man’s hands and arms and chest. “I told ye this was foolish nonsense…” but then he turned to his daughter. “How did ye know?”

“I… I felt him, is all,” she faltered. “I could feel him in my head, when I tried.”

“T-t-t…” Daniel stammered, his lips an awful shade of blue. “T-Touch…” he puffed out finally.

Robby looked at him, eyebrows furrowed. “You mean…” he looked at Gwyn. “She has the same powers you do?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “I don’t understand it.”

They fell silent as Daniel was brought back from the brink of exposure. Finally, when the blood had come back to his cheeks and lips and his breath was no longer ragged, he relaxed and sank deeper into the blankets. “Thank you,” he said.

Robby harumphed. “Well? Was this foray to speak with cursed spirits worth it?”

“T-they found my question amusing, which is perhaps why I’m also still alive,” Daniel responded. Then he pointed up and away, opposite the willow trees behind him.

Frowning, Robby and Gwyn peered out. “There’s nothin’ there,” Robby muttered. “Did they turn ya daffy or summat?”

Daniel jabbed his finger again.

“Oh,” Gwyn breathed. “Dad, look,” she said, and pointed in the same direction.

At first he continued to simply see nothing… and then suddenly he saw everything. There was a bend to the clouds in the sky, and in the fog surrounding them. On the little patches of dirty grass here and there, in a narrow line he saw the blades all pointing in the same direction towards them. Where there was water standing in the mud, the ripples from the breeze seemed to pitch noticeably against the wind, again towards them. In the sky, as great clouds passed through this invisible line, they were briefly dragged against atmospheric currents, creating a pattern that dizzied them to witness it.

They had found the Beam. They were now on the Path of the Elephant.

The next several weeks were rough going. They were solidly under the Beam now, invisible of itself, but once seen its effect on the natural world underneath it was unmistakable. The problem, it seemed, was that the Beam and everything in its sway seemed to flow against them. The cold wind beat directly at their faces during the day as they walked, trees and tallgrass reaching out in greeting as they continued forward. Fiona dutifully followed them, but at times she seemed to be confused, and would momentarily turn back the other way.

Since leaving the grove, Daniel had taken it upon himself to work with Gwyn in developing her Touch. She seemed more adept at it than him from the get-go, not suffering from the headaches that plagued him when he concentrated too much with it. It was difficult work, neither of them willing to focus hard enough to endanger the other.

“You must be ready to defend yourself,” he told her one evening. “These men after us are harriers. They will not hesitate to strike any of us down if they get a chance, or worse.”

Gwyn nodded, her eyes fixed on him. She frowned in her concentration, and he felt the peripheries of his mind being squeezed, not too hard.

“Good,” he slurred. “More.”

She grimaced openly as she redoubled her concentration, and before he knew it he was laying upon the hard ground, feeling disoriented.

Gwyn was sobbing. “Danny! Dad, I think I killed him!”

“No, no,” Daniel threw one hand up, the vision in his eye clearing as he sat up. “That was good.” He wiped away a globule of blood from his upper lip. “That was exactly what I wanted.”

Robby frowned down at him. “She’s not old enough fer this kind of thing.”

A steady throbbing settled in his temples, now familiar to him. “It may save her life someday. Given the circumstances, I think it’s deserved.”

Her father improved with the pistol, too, eventually becoming reliable enough to score a deer every other time he went hunting, which kept them well fed. Daniel decided not to teach him the mantra of the gunslingers; it was not his right to do so, and Robby was performing well enough anyway. He prayed that they would not need to use the gun against anyone regardless.

When they were not training, Daniel was quiet much of the time. When Gwyn or Robby looked at him out of the corner of their eyes, he leaned on his staff and seemed to be staring back where they were coming from, opposite the direction they were going. Gwyn would follow his gaze… and once, the sense of something immense looming over her struck.

That sensation thrilled her, but it was terrifying too. Something animal inside her quailed against it.

The Dark Tower was not for her to search out.

Even as it occurred to her, something hot and furious inside of her revolted at that thought.

She would not pursue the Tower… yet.