Emma and her husband James were leaving a bistro in Manchester where they had celebrated his birthday. The evening had been a success a full house of family, friends and colleagues, many of whom Emma was meeting for the first time, but James had invited them, so it must have been worthwhile.
Emma was not one to argue with James; she avoided disputes and preferred to go along rather than prove she was right.
Emma, do you have the keys? Could you fetch them for me?
She rummaged through her clutch, searching for the keys. Suddenly a sharp pain made her drop the clutch onto the floor.
What happened?
I nicked myself on something.
Your bags a jungle, no wonder you get hurt.
Emma didnt argue. She lifted the bag, gently extracted the keys, and they stepped into their flat. The sting in her hand faded as fatigue set in; all she wanted was a shower and her bed. By morning her finger was swollen, red and throbbing. Remembering the previous night, she opened the bag again and, after a careful search, found a large rusted needle at the bottom.
What on earth is this? she muttered, bewildered, and tossed the needle into the waste bin. She fetched a firstaid kit from the cupboard, cleaned the wound and, despite the pain, went to work. By noon her temperature began to climb.
She called James:
James, Im not sure what to do. I think I caught something nasty yesterday. Ive got a fever, a pounding head and my whole body aches. I found a rusty needle in my bag thats what I pricked myself with.
Maybe you should see a doctor; it could be tetanus or an infection.
Dont worry. Ive dressed the cut, Ill be fine.
But hour by hour her condition worsened. She barely made it through the afternoon, hailed a taxi home, and collapsed onto the sofa, slipping into a deep sleep.
In the dream she saw her late grandmother Martha, who had died when Emma was a child. Emma didnt know why she recognised her, but she felt certain it was her. Martha, stooped and gray, seemed frightening at first, yet Emma sensed she meant to help.
Martha led Emma across a field, pointing out herbs to gather, insisting she brew a decoction to cleanse her body. She warned that someone wanted to harm Emma, and that to fight that threat she had to survive. Time was running out.
Emma awoke drenched in sweat. It felt as if shed slept for hours, but a glance at the clock showed only a few minutes had passed. The front door slammed James had returned. She slipped off the sofa and went to the hallway. Seeing her, he stopped breathing for a moment:
Whats happened? Look at yourself in the mirror.
Emma stared at her reflection. Yesterday she had seen a bright, smiling face; now her hair hung in clumps, dark circles framed her eyes, her complexion was pallid and her gaze empty.
What is this?
She recalled the dream and told James:
I saw Grandma in my sleep; she told me what to do
Emma, get dressed, were going to the hospital.
No, Grandma said doctors wont help.
A heated argument broke out. James called Emma crazy, claiming her feverinduced visions were nonsense. For the first time they truly fought. James tried to force her into a car, gripping her arm.
If you wont go willingly, Ill make you.
Emma broke free, lost her balance and struck the corner of a cupboard. Enraged, James grabbed his bag, slammed the door and stormed out. Emma managed only to email her boss, saying she was ill and needed a few days off.
James returned after midnight, apologising, but Emma said simply:
Take me to the village where Grandma lived.
The next morning Emma looked more like a walking corpse than a healthy woman. James pleaded:
Emma, dont be foolish, we need to go to a hospital. I dont want to lose you.
She insisted they drive to the village. She could only name it; the house had been sold after her parents bought the land back following her grandmothers death. The whole journey she slept, waking only as they neared the village.
Here, she whispered.
She got out of the car, collapsed onto the grass, feeling she was exactly where Martha had shown her in the dream. She gathered the herbs she had been shown, and James brewed the infusion as she instructed. Emma sipped it slowly, feeling her strength return with each swallow.
She stumbled to the bathroom, and when she stood up she noticed her urine was dark. It didnt frighten her; it reminded her of Marthas words:
Darkness will pass
That night Martha appeared again, smiling, then spoke:
The rusted needle placed a curse on you. My brew will give you strength, but only briefly. You must find who did this and return his own evil to him. I cant see who it was, but its tied to your husband. Had you not thrown the needle away, I could have told you more.
She gave Emma a new plan:
Buy a pack of needles, and over the largest one chant, Spirits of the night, hear me! Reveal the truth and my foe! Slip that needle into your husbands bag. The one who cursed you will prick themselves on it, and well learn their name and can undo the harm.
Marthas figure faded like mist.
Emma awoke still feeling weak but confident she would recover, trusting her grandmothers guidance. James decided to stay home and look after her. When Emma asked to go to the shop alone, he said:
Emma, youre barely standing. Ill come with you.
James, make some soup, Ive got a terrible appetite after this illness.
She followed Marthas instructions. That evening the enchanted needle was indeed in Jamess bag. Before bed he asked:
Are you sure you can manage on your own? Should I stay with you?
Ill be fine.
Emma felt better, yet she knew the darkness lingered. By the third day the decoction acted like an antidote, weakening the malevolent force. She waited anxiously for Jamess return from work and greeted him at the door.
How was your day?
Fine, why ask?
She thought the matter was settled, but James added:
Imagine this Ivy from the next department tried to help me by reaching for the keys to my office, but she stuck herself with a needle in her bag. How did a needle get in my bag? She looked at me so fiercely I thought shed kill me with a glance.
What about this Ivy?
Emma, youre the only one that matters to me. I love only you.
Was she at your birthday dinner?
Yes, just a friendly colleague.
Emma felt the pieces click together. Now she understood how the old needle had ended up in her clutch. James went to the kitchen, where dinner waited. Later that night Martha showed Emma how to return the curse to Ivy. She explained that Ivy wanted to eliminate Emma as a rival for Jamess affection, and if she failed she would resort to magic again. The woman would stop at nothing.
Emma did everything Martha advised. Soon James reported that Ivy had gone on sick leave, claiming she was terribly ill and doctors were helpless. Emma asked James to drive her for a weekend to the village cemetery she hadnt visited since her grandmothers burial. She bought a bouquet, put on gloves, and painstakingly cleared the overgrown grass to find Marthas grave. When she reached it, a plaque bore a photo of the woman who had guided her in dreams her grandmother, who had saved her from death. Emma tidied the grave, placed the flowers in a vase of water, and sat on a bench, speaking:
Grandma, Im sorry I didnt come sooner. I thought visiting once a year was enough. I was wrong. Ill be here more often. Without you, I might not be here at all.
She felt a warm hand on her shoulders, turned, and only a gentle breeze remained.
Through the turmoil Emma learned that love, trust and listening to the wisdom of those who have gone before can illuminate even the darkest of curses. The true healing came not from a magical brew, but from facing the truth, forgiving, and cherishing the bonds that keep us safe.
