"Go then," Roland whispered, though whether he spoke to Jake, the Tower, or himself, he did not know. "There are other worlds than these."
"Worse," Jake said. "The Tower is shivering. It’s not just the beams anymore. Someone is ringing the bell at the top." The Dark Tower
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. "Go then," Roland whispered, though whether he spoke
Roland Deschain did not stop when the world ended; he simply adjusted his pace. It’s not just the beams anymore