Emily and her husband James were strolling back from a cosy bistro in Manchester where they had marked Jamess birthday. The evening had gone smoothly a crowd of friends, family and colleagues, many of whom Emily was meeting for the first time, but James had insisted on inviting them, so there must have been a good reason.
Emily was not the type to question her husbands choices; she avoided quarrels and preferred peace. It was easier to go along with James than to argue that she was right.
Emily, have you seen the keys? Could you fetch them? James asked.
She rummaged through her handbag, searching for the little metal fobs. Suddenly a sharp sting made her drop the bag onto the floor.
What happened? James exclaimed.
Ive nicked myself on something.
Your bag is practically a maze, no wonder you get tangled up in it, he joked.
Emily didnt argue. She lifted the bag, gently coaxed the keys free, and they entered their flat. The sting was already fading in her mind. Her legs ached with fatigue, and all she longed for was a hot shower and a soft bed. By morning her hand throbbed fiercely; the finger was red and swollen. Remembering the incident, she opened the bag once more. At the bottom she discovered a large, rustcovered needle.
What on earth? she muttered, baffled by its presence. She tossed the needle into the rubbish bin, fetched a firstaid kit and disinfected the cut. After dressing the wound she headed to work, but by lunchtime a fever began to climb.
She called James: Darling, Im not sure what to do. I think I caught something nasty yesterday. I have a fever, a pounding head, my whole body aches. Imagine, I found a big rusty needle in my bag its what pricked me.
Maybe you should see a doctor; it could be tetanus or an infection, James suggested.
Dont overreact. Ive bandaged it; Ill be fine, she replied.
Hour by hour her condition worsened. She barely made it through the workday, then hailed a taxi home, knowing a bus ride would be too draining. Collapsing onto the couch, she fell asleep.
In her dream her late grandmother Ethel appeared the woman who had died when Emily was a child. Emily had never known Ethels face, yet she was certain it was her. Though old and bent, the apparition seemed determined to help.
Ethel guided Emily across a meadow, pointing out herbs to gather. She instructed Emily to brew a tea and drink it to cleanse her body, warning that a foe was seeking to harm her and that she must survive to fight back. Time was short.
Emily awoke sweating. It felt as if she had slept for hours, but a quick glance at the clock showed only minutes had passed. The front door slammed open James had returned. She slipped off the couch and shuffled to the hallway. Seeing her, he gasped, Whats happened? Look at yourself in the mirror.
Emily approached the mirror. Just yesterday she had seen a bright, smiling face; now her hair hung in clumps, dark circles shadowed her eyes, her skin was pallid, and her stare was empty.
What is this? she whispered.
She recalled the dream and told James, I saw Grandma in my sleep. She told me what to do
Emily, get dressed. Were going to the hospital, James urged.
I wont go. Grandma said doctors wont help, Emily replied.
A fierce argument erupted. James called her crazy, accusing her of hallucinating in her fever. For the first time they truly fought. James tried to force her out, gripping her wrist and pulling her toward the door.
If you wont go willingly, Ill make you, he growled.
Emily slipped, lost her balance and struck her head on a cupboard corner. Enraged, James grabbed his bag, slammed the door and stormed out. Emily only managed to email her boss, saying she was ill and needed a few days off.
James returned after midnight, apologising profusely, but Emilys reply was simple: Take me to the village where my grandmother lived tomorrow.
The next morning Emily resembled a walking corpse more than a healthy woman. James kept pleading, Emily, dont be foolish. Lets go to the hospital. I dont want to lose you.
At last they drove to the remote village. Emily remembered its name only vaguely; her parents had sold the family cottage after her grandmothers death. She slept through most of the journey, waking only as they neared the outskirts and announcing, Here.
She stepped out of the car, collapsed onto the grass, and knew this was the place Ethel had shown her in the dream. She gathered the required herbs, and James prepared the brew exactly as she instructed. She sipped it slowly, feeling strength return with each swallow.
When she finally rose to use the bathroom, she noticed her urine was black. Instead of panic, the sight reminded her of Ethels words: Darkness will pass.
That night Ethel visited her again, smiling, then spoke: The rusted needle placed a curse on you. My tea will give you strength, but only briefly. You must find the one who did this and return his wickedness. I cannot see who it is, but it is linked to your husband. If you had not thrown the needle away, I could have told you more.
She continued, Buy a packet of needles, and over the largest one say, Spirits of the night, hear me! Reveal the truth, help me find my enemy Slip that needle into your husbands bag. The person who cast the spell will be pricked by it, and we will learn their name, so we can return their harm.
Ethels figure faded like mist.
Emily woke still feeling weak, yet convinced she would recover because Ethel would watch over her. James decided to stay home and care for her. When Emily suggested she might run an errand alone, he protested, Emily, youre barely on your feet. Ill go with you.
James, make some soup; I have a voracious appetite after this illness, she replied.
She followed Ethels instructions. That evening the cursed needle was already hidden in Jamess bag. Before bedtime she asked, Are you sure youll manage alone? Should I stay?
Ill be fine, he answered.
By the third day the herbal tea acted like an antidote; the malign influence seemed to weaken. Emily waited impatiently for James to return from work. When he entered, she greeted him, How was your day?
It was fine, why do you ask? he replied.
She thought her plan had failed, but James added, Imagine, today Iona from the next department tried to help me and reached for the keys to my office. She stuck herself with a needle. How did a needle get in my bag? She stared at me so fiercely I thought shed kill me with her eyes.
Whos Iona? Emily asked.
Only you matter to me, Emily. Youre the one I love, James said. Was she at your birthday dinner?
Yes, shes a good friend, nothing more.
Emily felt the puzzle clicking into place; she now understood how the old needle had ended up in her bag. James went to the kitchen where dinner waited. Later that night Ethel showed Emily how to return the curse to Iona, explaining that Iona wanted to eliminate a rival to claim Jamess affection. If her plan failed, she would resort to magic again. She will stop at nothing, Ethel warned.
Emily acted as instructed. Soon after, James told her that Iona had taken sick leave, claiming she was terribly ill and doctors were helpless. Emily asked James to drive her to the village cemetery she hadnt visited since her grandmothers funeral. She bought a bouquet, gloves, and, after some searching, found her grandmother Ethels grave. She placed a picture of Ethel on the tombstone, arranged the flowers in a vase of water, sat on a bench and whispered:
Grandma, Im sorry I didnt come sooner. I thought a yearly visit was enough. I was wrong. Ill be here more often. If it werent for you, I might not be here at all.
She felt a warm hand on her shoulder, turned, and only a gentle breeze brushed her cheek.
The experience taught Emily that listening to wisdom, whether from dreams or loved ones, and confronting hidden dangers with courage can turn even the darkest curse into a path toward healing. In the end, love, resilience, and the willingness to seek truth are the strongest antidotes life offers.
