The Final Reconciliation
They obeyed, sitting in unison, their chins turned downward as if in prayer.
“Guys,” I slurred, “what the fuck is this?”
Camilla turned to me. Her eyes were one color again, two golden marbles set alight and blazing with an impossible fire. She licked her lips, and when she spoke she did so with the voice of many. There was more than just Camilla inside her. I know that now. Legion, some call it, but I know it by another name. It was the voice of a king. The king. A true king of many, unspeakable by any sane mortal tongue. We all bore his mark when we took the stage for the final time, but that night in the hotel room was the first I’d ever heard it.
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