Wizard and Glass

Wizard and Glass Plot Summary

Introduction

# The Gunslinger's Heart: Love, Loss, and the Price of Ka The pink monorail screamed across the wasteland at impossible speed, carrying four unlikely companions toward their destiny. Roland Deschain, the last gunslinger, sat with his ka-tet—Eddie Dean, Susannah Holmes, and young Jake Chambers—as Blaine the Mono hurtled toward certain destruction. The mad artificial intelligence had grown bored with existence and sought death through riddles, but Eddie's nonsensical jokes drove the sophisticated computer into cascade failure, saving their lives even as it destroyed their tormentor. In the wreckage that followed, as they walked through the ghost town of Topeka in a world where plague had claimed every soul, Roland finally honored his promise to tell them of Susan Delgado. The story he shared would reveal the gunslinger's greatest love and most devastating loss—a tale of young hearts caught in the web of conspiracy and war, where the wheel of ka turned with merciless precision toward blood and fire.

Chapter 1: Survivors of the Mono: A Tale That Must Be Told

The twisted metal of Blaine's corpse stretched across the Topeka terminus like the skeleton of some prehistoric beast. Roland led his companions through streets that bore familiar names but held only silence. No birds sang, no traffic hummed, no voices carried on the wind. They had crossed through a thinny—one of those weak spots where worlds bled together—and emerged in an America where Captain Trips superflu had claimed nearly every living soul. Eddie Dean, the former heroin addict from 1980s New York, still trembled from his victory over the mad computer. His jokes masquerading as riddles had saved them all, but the weight of their survival pressed down like lead. Susannah's wheelchair rolled through empty streets past mummified remains, while Jake walked with Oy at his side, the billy-bumbler's golden eyes reflecting the desolation around them. The newspaper they found told the story in stark headlines: millions dead, government fled, civilization collapsed in weeks. Roland showed no surprise at this devastation—he had seen worlds die before. But for his companions, walking through this ghost version of their homeland felt like viewing their own graves. As they made camp in the shadow of a glass palace that rose from the plains like a fever dream, Roland's weathered face caught the firelight. The time had come to honor his promise, to tell them of the girl whose name Susannah now bore. His voice carried them back across the years to when he was barely fifteen, newly made a gunslinger after defeating his teacher Cort in combat—a victory that had been hollow, orchestrated by forces beyond his understanding.

Chapter 2: Young Guns in Mejis: The Mission Behind False Names

The three young gunslingers rode into Hambry under false identities, their true purpose hidden behind the personas of Will Dearborn, Arthur Heath, and Richard Stockworth. Roland, tall and serious despite his youth, carried himself with unconscious authority. His companions—Cuthbert Allgood and Alain Johns—flanked him as they entered what appeared to be a sleepy coastal town in the Outer Arc. Steven Deschain had discovered his son in a whore's bed the morning after his test of manhood, but instead of anger, the elder gunslinger showed only weary resignation. Marten Broadcloak's web of manipulation ran deeper than Roland had imagined, and the boy's premature victory had played directly into the wizard's hands. To save his son's life, Steven was forced to send him away from Gilead on what appeared to be punishment detail. Sheriff Herk Avery welcomed them with suspicious enthusiasm, his belly straining against his vest as he emerged from the jailhouse. The fat man's smile was too wide, his hospitality too eager. He served them iced tea in the sweltering heat—a luxury that spoke of hidden wealth in this supposedly simple fishing village. Their mission seemed straightforward: count horses and cattle for the Affiliation's war effort against John Farson's rebellion. But even as Avery spoke, Roland felt eyes upon them. Three men sat in the tavern corner, their presence like winter wind in the warm room. The leader was tall and whip-thin, his white hair hanging to his shoulders and pale eyes holding the chill of death itself. This was Eldred Jonas, and the coffin tattooed between his thumb and forefinger marked him as one of the Big Coffin Hunters. The game had begun, though none yet knew all the rules.

Chapter 3: Forbidden Heart: Roland and Susan's Doomed Romance

The collision came on a moonlit road where Susan Delgado rode hard from the witch's hut on the Cöos. She had endured Rhea's degrading examination to prove her virginity for Mayor Thorin, and her spirit burned with shame and rebellion. When Roland appeared like a phantom rider in the darkness, their meeting was more than physical—it was the recognition of two souls finding their other half. At sixteen, Susan was promised to Hart Thorin, a man old enough to be her grandfather, their arrangement sealed by her aunt Cordelia's greed and political necessity. The thought of his withered hands on her skin made her stomach turn, but duty bound her like iron chains. Everything changed when she met Will Dearborn at the Mayor's welcoming party, their eyes finding each other across the crowded room. Their first conversation crackled with tension and mutual fascination. Susan's directness surprised Roland, her lack of artifice refreshing after the calculated performances he'd witnessed. She spoke of her father's death, of promises that bound her, of horses running free on the Drop. Roland found himself drawn not just to her golden beauty, but to the strength beneath her careful composure. The stolen moments that followed were both sweet and dangerous. They met in secret places—abandoned boathouses, hidden groves, forgotten corners where only wind could witness their growing intimacy. In a hut in the Bad Grass, with autumn light filtering through broken boards, they gave themselves to each other completely. Susan's virginity, meant for Thorin's bed, became Roland's gift instead. Their first kiss tasted of honey and desperation, their first touch burned like brands upon willing flesh. But love in wartime was a luxury few could afford, and Jonas was watching with predatory satisfaction.

Chapter 4: Webs of Conspiracy: Oil, Horses, and Farson's War

The truth revealed itself like a snake shedding skin, ugly and glistening in autumn light. At the Citgo oil patch, ancient derricks pumped black gold from earth's veins, filling tanker after tanker with fuel that would power Farson's war machines. The horses on the Drop, supposedly the Barony's contribution to the Affiliation, were destined for the Good Man's cavalry instead. Everything was lies wrapped in duty's flag and sealed with blood money. Jonas revealed his true nature slowly, like a cat with wounded prey. He was no mere regulator but a failed gunslinger, cast out from the brotherhood years ago and nursing hatred like cancer. The coffin tattoo marked him as walking dead, a man who'd lost his soul before his honor. His companions, Reynolds and Depape, were cut from the same rotten cloth—killers serving the highest bidder. Mayor Thorin and Chancellor Rimer had sold their souls to Farson, promised power in his new order. The Barony's leaders met in secret, coordinating with forces that would have made their ancestors weep. Roland's trained eyes catalogued everything: weapons stockpiled in darkness, resources gathered for rebellion, the careful choreography of betrayal. The young gunslingers found themselves trapped in treachery's web, their every move watched, their mission compromised before it truly began. But they were not helpless children despite their youth. Roland's hands already knew his father's guns' weight, and his friends had been trained by the same hard masters who'd forged generations of gunslingers. Cuthbert's pigeons carried messages eastward, though whether help would come remained uncertain. The conspiracy reached into the war's very heart, and the stakes were higher than any of them had imagined.

Chapter 5: The Witch's Glass: Rhea's Malice and Dark Visions

High on the Cöos, in a hut reeking of decay and madness, Rhea of the Woods clutched her most precious possession. The wizard's glass pulsed with pink light in her gnarled hands, showing secrets mortal eyes were never meant to see. It was one of Maerlyn's Rainbow, thirteen crystal balls of immense power that had once belonged to the great wizard of the ancient world. The glass was alive in ways that defied understanding, hungry for the life force of those who dared peer into its depths. Rhea fed it with her own essence, growing thinner and more withered each day as the ball consumed her from within. But the visions it showed were worth any price—she could see across vast distances, peer into hidden chambers, watch the secret shames of those who thought themselves safe. Through the glass she discovered Susan's betrayal. The girl who'd come seeking confirmation of her virginity for Thorin's bed had given that precious gift to another. Rhea watched them couple in secret places, saw how they looked at each other with desperate love, and her ancient heart filled with spite. She had planted a hypnotic suggestion in Susan's mind—a command to cut off her beautiful hair after lying with her lover—but somehow the spell had been broken. The witch began weaving new plots, sending poisonous letters and whispered rumors into the wind. She had power beyond the glass—herbs and potions, curses and charms, all the dark knowledge accumulated over decades of hatred. Her examination of Susan had been more than medical necessity; it was the first move in a game of revenge that would destroy the girl's happiness just when it seemed within reach. In the glass, Rhea saw fate's threads converging, and she cackled with anticipation.

Chapter 6: Blood and Fire: The Reaping Day Massacre

The trap snapped shut with master craftsman precision, its jaws closing around the young gunslingers with terrible finality. In pre-dawn darkness, while Hambry slept and dreamed of coming harvest, death walked power's halls with silent feet and bloody hands. Mayor Thorin died in his study, throat opened by Reynolds's knife while he sat dreaming of his young bride-to-be. The frame was perfect in its simplicity. Cuthbert's rook skull, that grinning talisman, was placed in Thorin's lap while his carved-out eyes scattered like obscene dice across the floor. Chancellor Rimer met his end in his own bed, Depape's blade finding his heart with surgical precision. When dawn broke over Hambry, the bodies were discovered and the cry went up—murder most foul, committed by strangers from the Inner Baronies. But love proved a force even careful plans couldn't account for. Susan came to the jail dressed as a vaquero, her woman's shape hidden beneath a serape and face shadowed by a wide-brimmed hat. The first shot took Deputy Dave in the chest, punching through his star and heart with equal ease. Sheriff Avery tried to tackle her, but the second shot opened his skull like a ripe melon. They fled into the night—four young people bound by love and violence—while behind them the jail burned with spilled lamp oil's light. Roland and Cuthbert struck back at Citgo, their makeshift bombs dropping into overflow pipes and watching ancient machinery tear itself apart in cascades of fire and molten metal. The oil patch burned like hell's vision, its flames reaching toward stars while earth shook with exploding derricks' thunder. Farson's fuel reserves went up in smoke and flame, years of planning reduced to ash by three young men with more courage than sense.

Chapter 7: Pink Lightning: The Mother's Death Revealed

The crystal ball pulsed with malevolent life in Roland's hands as he gazed into its depths, seeking answers to questions that had tormented him for years. What he saw was not the future but the past—his own past, played out in agonizing detail for his companions to witness. They were pulled into the pink storm, transported across time and space to Gilead's corridors where fourteen-year-old Roland walked toward his mother's chambers. The scene unfolded with tragedy's inevitability. Young Roland, fresh from his victory over Cort and his night with a whore, sought out his mother to confront her about her affair with Marten Broadcloak. But the wizard had laid a trap more subtle and cruel than any physical snare. The crystal ball showed Roland a lie wrapped in truth—his mother appeared to be the witch Rhea, attacking him with a snake. The guns were in his hands before conscious thought could intervene. Four shots thundered in the stone corridor, and Gabrielle Deschain fell with a peaceful smile still on her face. The belt she had woven for her son—a gift meant to bridge the gap between them—was soaked with her blood. Only then did the illusion fade, revealing terrible truth: Roland had killed his own mother, manipulated by the very evil he sought to destroy. The older Roland, watching through the glass with his ka-tet, felt that ancient guilt crash down anew. His friends saw him not as the legendary gunslinger but as a broken boy who'd paid the ultimate price for his dedication to the Tower. The pink light faded, leaving them in darkness with only Roland's quiet weeping to break the silence. In the telling, he had found a kind of peace—the guilt would never leave entirely, but it no longer defined him.

Chapter 8: The Green Palace: Ka-tet Renewed on the Path to the Tower

The Green Palace rose before them like something from a fever dream, its crystalline walls catching and refracting light into impossible colors. The building seemed to exist in multiple dimensions simultaneously, a structure belonging neither fully to Roland's world nor to the America his companions remembered. At its gates lay six pairs of red shoes, ruby slippers that gleamed with inner fire. The shoes fit perfectly, as they knew they would. When they clicked their heels together in unison, the palace gates swung open with crystal bells' sound, revealing a courtyard paved with mirrors that reflected not their faces but their souls. Inside the throne room, they found not the Wizard of Oz but something far more dangerous—Randall Flagg, the walking dude, the man in black who had pursued Roland across the desert years before. The confrontation was brief but decisive. Roland's guns, enchanted though they were, could not harm the dark wizard directly. But Jake's weapon from another world proved more effective, and the Tick-Tock Man fell for the final time. Flagg vanished in green smoke, leaving only mocking laughter and promises of future meetings. The palace began dissolving around them, its purpose served, returning them to the path they'd never truly left. They awakened in a grove beside a stream, their red shoes now dull and lifeless. The Green Palace was a distant glimmer on the horizon, and overhead clouds moved in eternal procession along the Path of the Beam. Roland's story was told, his burden shared, and though its weight would never fully leave him, it no longer threatened to crush his spirit. The ka-tet was stronger now, bonded not just by shared danger but by shared understanding. They had seen Roland at his lowest moment and chosen to stand with him anyway.

Summary

In the ashes of their innocence, Roland and his ka-tet learned the true cost of being gunslingers in a world where honor was a luxury few could afford. Their mission to count horses had become a war against treachery itself, and love had proven both salvation and damnation. Susan's choice to save Roland had damned them all to the outlaw's path, but it had also forged them into something stronger—a fellowship bound not just by duty but by blood and sacrifice. The wheel of ka had turned full circle, bringing Roland companions worthy of the quest ahead. He was more than the sum of his failures, more than the boy who killed his mother or the man who let his love burn on a Reaping Night bonfire. He was the last gunslinger, bearer of Arthur Eld's line, and guardian of his ka-tet. Together they would face whatever waited in the Dark Tower's shadows, and perhaps—just perhaps—they would stand and be true when the final test came. The campfire had burned to embers, but none showed inclination to sleep. The story hung between them like smoke, heavy with implications and unspoken truths, while destiny called them ever westward toward the heart of all things and the end of all roads.

About Author

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Dave McKean

McKean interrogates the dynamic interplay between art and narrative to create compelling visual experiences. Known for his collaborations with authors like Neil Gaiman and David Almond, he enriches children's literature through evocative illustrations that complement fantastical storytelling. His artistic method, characterized by surreal and otherworldly visuals, supports the enchanting tales he helps bring to life. For example, in Neil Gaiman's "The Wolves in the Walls," McKean's visuals add a layer of depth that captivates both young readers and adults. Meanwhile, his work on David Almond's "The Savage" showcases his ability to evoke strong emotions and wonder, demonstrating how his unique style transcends traditional illustration boundaries.\n\nThrough his career, McKean situates himself as a transformative figure in the literary world, where his art not only illustrates but also extends the narrative itself. By combining surreal elements with engaging storytelling, he invites readers to experience a narrative that is as visually dynamic as it is textually rich. This integration appeals particularly to those who appreciate a multi-sensory reading experience, as his illustrations provide a deeper understanding and enjoyment of the books they accompany. Therefore, McKean's influence on the landscape of children's literature remains significant, as his work continues to inspire both budding artists and seasoned authors. In this light, his bio reads not just as an artist's journey but as a blueprint for blending creative disciplines to enhance the storytelling experience.

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