Page 37 of Enchanted in Time
“Is that your child?” the bear growled.
“Yes, yes, my son!”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes!” She was about to leave the path and look for her little boy, but the bear held her back.
“Stay on the bricks!”
“Mommy? Mommy?”
“That’s Emi! Emi, Leon, where are you?” Frantic, Hannah looked in every direction. “Where is the water? Where are my children?”
Once more, she lifted her foot off the bricks and was about to set it down on the forest floor, but the bear jumped beside her. “Stay where you are!”
“But my children!”
“Those are not your children!”
“Oh, that’s nonsense—of course, they are! I know their voices!”
“No, trust me, they’re not!”
“And if they are?”
“No! Friederike the Enchantress would never lure us into the forest with their voices. It must be a boggart or something. It’s trying to lead you off the path and deeper into the forest!”
“But what if...” Hannah’s heart was racing. What if her elderly neighbor had harmed them after all, and this was a cry for help?
“No!” The bear grabbed her by the shoulders, lifted her up, and forced her to look at him. “Where are your children? Think!”
Looking into his sea-green eyes calmed her racing pulse. Still unsure, she answered, “They’re at home with Frieda. They’re probably still asleep. I’m sure it’s barely seven o’clock.”
“And what did my godmother drill into our heads about what to be mindful of in this forest?”
“That we should never leave the path.”
“So do you think there’s the slightest chance that she would still try to make contact through a water source that’s off the path?”
Hannah took a deep breath and shook her head. “Probably not.”
“Then if I put you down now, will you stay on the bricks?”
“Yes.”
The bear set her back down on the ground. Slowly, he took his paws off her arms as if he were afraid she might panic and charge off. But Hannah kept her wits about her and took deep, calm breaths. And now that she was thinking clearly again, she no longer heard her children’s voices.
“What was that? Who was imitating my children’s voices?”
“It must have been a boggart. They can look into your heart and see what you most long for.”
“But how do they know what Emi and Leon sound like? I’m their mother. I know their voices like no one else. And I couldswear that those were my two children calling from somewhere in the woods—and not an imitation!”
“Boggarts can see, hear, feel, and taste whatever you love. Whatever you hold in your heart.”
“What do these boggarts look like? So I can recognize them?”
“Hardly anyone knows their true form. But if you see a dark, dense mist and notice any lights or unusual sounds, like familiar voices, then one of them has got to be near.”
