All Along the Watchtower

Dinh.

The word, which had been meaningless to Eden only hours before, now rang with sonorous importance in her mind. All she'd known when Roland spoke to them was that he'd asked a question that no one answered. She'd spoken up, and James at least thought that made her a kind of leader for their ka-tet.

Eden had never pictured herself as a leader; when she did think about it, all she could think of were the busy nights in the OR at Roosevelt Hospital when she put aside fear and weariness and concentrated on getting done what needed to be done. There'd been more than one nurse on staff who looked to her for advice, even though she'd been there barely three years.

That wasn't leadership, she thought. It was skill and plain old pragmatism. That stopped her, as she walked within the bounds of the camp on Jericho Hill. Was that all it was? When had she become so jaded? Somewhere along the way, she'd lost that sense of wonder she saw even in Alistair. Here she was, not even in America anymore, and all she'd thought about was what they'd come here to do and how to get it done.

Not that it was a pretty little vacation spot where she could take in the sights and gape at the scenery. It was an armed camp under a broken tower, with tension so thick you could practically see it shimmering in the torchlight. It was worse because Eden knew that soon it would be a battleground to dwarf the worst she'd seen in Vietnam. There was one known Alliance survivor of that battle, according to the books that James seemed to have memorized: Roland Deschain. Everyone else here was a walking corpse who had not yet felt the Reaper's scythe.

Still, she'd felt horribly out of place when she'd made the transition from her New York to the one with the Rose. Twenty years that she'd just side-stepped, with leaps in technology that she was still trying to understand. Here, in Mid-World, she'd felt none of that displacement. Did the others feel disjointed or had they made the transition as smoothly as she had? She'd ask in the morning.

A chilly breeze blew in off the ocean that had been a roaring counterpoint to her thoughts. This close to the cliff, Eden couldn't even hear the repetitive clanking of the blacksmith's hammer Ashleigh had taken up. Most of the camp was asleep; she hoped Ashleigh had gone to bed as well. She'd be heading that way herself in a little while. For now, her mind was too full of worry.

Despite what she said--to the quartermaster, to James, and to Penny herself--Eden worried about taking a girl Penny's age into a battle like the one that loomed before them. Penny was tough as nails, but she was still a kid. Penny was just as wrapped up in all of it as the rest of them, had just as vital a role to play as any of the men who now slept within the ruined tower. Perhaps more vital. It hurt to think about it. Whatever innocence Penny had left would probably be stripped away.

It wasn't Eden's choice, though. The ka-tet had been swept together for some purpose, and Penny was part of it. Penny wasn't even all of what had Eden wandering outside, mind too full for sleep. There was Carrie, too. Another person she wanted to protect, but wouldn't. Not couldn't--she knew the difference too well. Protecting Carrie, keeping her safe and away from the battle, could very well destroy what chances they had. The same went for the rest of the ka-tet. Eden felt--no, she knew--that it would take each and every one of them working together to come out of this successfully.

Even if one or more of them died in the attempt.

Was that what it meant to be dinh? To carry that worry yet be able to lay aside doubts and fears and trust in the people you wanted most to protect? Maybe that was a part of it. She had the feeling that she'd find out. If they managed to survive this.

I might as well head back, she thought. I'm beginning to think in circles, and that never did anyone any good. I might as well get what sleep I can. I'm going to need it.