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The crowd started jostling, looking around, wondering what was about to happen next. I couldn’t see, from this far away, what Sylvester and the band’s reactions were on stage. Their instruments and microphones were still muted.
Then, the crowd, starting at the back and rippling forwards to the front, began to turn around to face the back of the room. The guards holding my arms let me step forwards, up against the glass of the sound booth, so I could look down in time to see Priscilla Lamb, surrounded by her suited-up bodyguards, pushing her way into the crowds just as her fake son had done only moments ago.
Into the microphone that Apollo had been using, which was the only one working, Sylvester quickly yelled: “And now for another special surprise guest, one which was definitely planned... seventies icon Priscilla Lamb, in her first appearance in decades!”
“I’ll have you know...” Priscilla paused dramatically before continuing. “...That’s Priscilla Brock, to you.”
From what Apollo had told me, Priscilla and Emory had never been married. But, if she were as obsessed as Apollo claimed, it made sense that she had decided to take his name, anyway.
Pushing into the crowd and surrounded by her bodyguards, who seemed to be sweeping the crowd back almost to the beat of the music, like the world’s most muscular and inflexible backing dancers, Priscilla sang.
I wanna (take over the world)
I’m gonna (take over the world)
You stop me (you can’t stop me)
You try and stop me (you can’t stop me)
It was undeniable that she hadn’t lost her skills since she’d disappeared. She’d clearly been keeping up her practice in that recording studio, and perhaps, before Emory’s death, while working as his maid. Her voice had incredible range and power. Her songs were iconic, if obviously a little dated for today’s audiences.
Soon you’ll see there’s no denying
I’m Priscilla and I’m flying
Higher than the highest mountains
Up above the tallest trees
Watch me soar and swoop and sparkle
Just step back look up and marvel
At the greatest woman of all time
The one and only
The divine, gorgeous and wise
But cunning when she has to be
The winner in the end is me
There’s no point in fighting destiny
Don’t you see
The power all belongs to me
It’s me, Priscilla, future Priestess of Everything
The two guards holding my arms glanced at each other and let me go, heading for the door, possibly to help form Priscilla’s getaway. I rubbed gently at the skin of my arms where their brute hands had pressed bruises into my flesh. Bruce, the last remaining bodyguard, was entirely fixated on the sound desk.
I wanna (take over the world)
I’m gonna (take over the world)
You stop me (you can’t stop me)
