The chanting intensified, increasing in rhythm and volume as the moon rose higher. The worshippers danced and twirled widdershins, moving faster in unison with the chants. One of the men at the center of the group began to tear at his robe. He barely paused in his dance, casting aside the torn cloth as he moved.
Suspended above the swirling mass was a round cage of woven wood. There appeared to be three figures inside but whether or not they were the missing children I could not tell.
For the third time the officer beside me checked to be sure that his pistol was loaded. We were out numbered by at least two to one. Where had all these people come from? How long had they been practicing this magic?