27
A bsolute silence and darkness. Hannah heard nothing, saw nothing, smelled nothing. But she could still feel. She could feel the stem of the fireflower in her hand, and she knew that the Evil could not touch her.
“Where is the soul of Mirabelle’s mother?” she called out into the gloom.
No one answered.
“I demand the soul of Mirabelle’s mother! Release her!”
Then she heard the response of the dark voice, which now no longer frightened her: “Only a blood relation can find her here in the darkness.”
Hannah gulped. True. That was what Irmgard had said as well. Why hadn’t she thought of that earlier? How could she find the soul of a stranger?
“Follow your heart!”
Where did that soft voice come from? That was not the Evil! But who then?
“Listen to your heart, and go where it leads you,” it whispered once more. And although it was an unknown voice, it also sounded familiar.
Hannah tried to feel what was going on inside her. Now that the Evil’s hand no longer held her heart in its grasp, her heart could beat freely and easily. She listened to its comforting heartbeat and suddenly knew which way to go. She could see nothing, yet still she walked through the gloom with a sense of purpose. Until a scent wafted toward her nose—a scent that seemed at once both strange and familiar. Exactly like the voice.
Something was gleaming in the darkness. Something transparent with a faint pulse. Was that the soul? Its form was blurred, but with each step that Hannah took, its contours grew more distinct. On reaching the glimmer of light, Hannah found herself facing a woman with long, dark-blonde hair and a smile that was familiar.
“You found me, Hannah.”
“Are you Mirabelle’s mother?”
Tears welled up in the soul’s eyes, and she nodded. Hannah looked at her closely. As she did so, her heart beat faster with excitement, and a sense of warmth flowed through her as if she were returning to someone to whom she belonged.
“Who are you?” she whispered.
“I am your great-grandmother.”
Hannah gazed at the soul in amazement. Now it all made sense. “You’re my grandma Anna’s mother... Annabelle!”
The soul nodded.
“She told me you died.”
“And in a sense, I did.”
“Why did she never speak of her sister Mirabelle?”
“She may have forgotten about us because of the curse. But now, tell me, do you have the fireflower?”
Hannah nodded. She held the flower out to the soul, and her great-grandmother took the pearl from its midst. As soon as she touched its gleaming white surface, the darkness around them dissolved, and they found themselves standing together on the mountain plateau.