Circle of Death by Thais Lopes

waiting for you.” She sounded light and carefree, not at all like what I had just heard.
    “I’ll be there.”
    The hours went by quickly after that, while I was lost in thoughts. Kelene’s secrets, the Witches’ Council words, and all that Avés had revealed… Everything was tied together, somehow, and I was in the middle of it all. But how did those pieces fit? I couldn’t see anything, and was sure that I was missing the most important information. I didn’t know enough. Leaving that enigma that had become a hobby for later, I went down just before nine o’clock, and went to the complex’s lawn, where a bonfire had been lit.
    All the teens and young people of the complex were sitting in a circle with two openings around the bonfire. Some of them had percussion instruments, flutes, and a violin. Other ones didn’t carry anything, and I wondered if they were there just to complete the circle, of if they would sing too. Kelene and another girl were standing, each one in front of an opening. Not exactly surprised, I realized that the girl was the one who had smiled at me the night before. She was restless, and I could see that she was completely human, but had some kind of connection to the Otherworld. Looking around, I saw people spreading around the circle, waiting for them to begin.
    The minutes went by, the small conversations dying one by one, until there was only the silence and the fire. The girl started singing, the melody sounding almost too low for her, but her voice was still strong and clear. There were no words to what she sang, only a melody that seemed to dance around the fire, almost visible. For one moment, I felt as if I had heard it before, half-buried memories of my childhood coming forth, but I ignored them.
    She stopped singing, and the deep sound of a drum cut the air. One beat, another, and then the other drums joined in. The woman moved into the circle following their rhythm, dancing with the strong and primitive melody. She started singing again, dancing around the bonfire, two soft voices backing her. A flute joined the song, and then the violin, giving it a cadence that felt alive, almost magic. I felt something stirring inside me, my most primitive instincts being called and fought to control myself.
    Once again she stopped singing, and the instruments went on, more flutes joining in, changing the soul of the song, delineating a melody as fluid as the fire. Only then Kelene, who had spent all that time standing still, entered the circle, dancing. The two women faced each other for a second, before starting to sing, always dancing, their voices entwining. The song, which until then had been alive and pulsing, now was reverent and even dark, Kelene’s clear soprano voice giving it a supernatural touch.
    It was then that I realized I had to move away. I didn’t recognize that song, but I was sure I knew it, and that it was a melody of power. It wasn’t safe to be so close to it in the middle of so many people. Slowly, I backed away.
    All the instruments were being played, and the other voices joined the melody in intricate counterpoints, weaving a web of power. I blinked, moving away from my memories again, only then noticing that I was almost at the complex’s outer wall. Kelene and the other woman were still dancing, always in opposite sides of the bonfire, and it was impossible to tell if they and the music moved according to the flames, or if the flames moved according to the music and the dancers.
    Suddenly all the instruments were silenced, and the women still sang. The power seemed to build, their voices interlaced in a melody that was older than any legend. They finished the song raising their arms at the same time, one on each side of the bonfire, and the flames shot higher and higher. The women were still for a couple of seconds, their bodies trembling with tension, before lowering their arms and leaving the circle.
    The reverent silence was a praise as big as any applause, as