The night after his birthday bash a night that would go down in the annals of whatnottodo Emma and her husband James trudged home from a swanky restaurant in Soho. The celebration had been a proper shindig: a long list of guests, families, colleagues, and a few faces Emma had never met before. James had invited them, so there had to be a good reason, or at least a decent excuse.
Emma wasnt the type to question Jamess decisions; she preferred to avoid arguments and keep the peace. It was easier to go along with him than to prove she was right.
Emma, any chance youve got the keys? Could you fish them out for me? James asked.
She rummaged through her handbag, trying to locate the little metal things. Suddenly a sharp sting made her drop the bag onto the floor.
What on earth? James asked, eyebrows raised.
Ive nicked myself on something, Emma muttered, wincing.
Your bag is practically a black hole, so nothings really surprising, James replied with a halfsmile.
Without making a scene, Emma lifted the bag, gently extracted the keys, and they slipped inside. Once inside their flat, the throbbing ache in her leg from the evenings dancing faded into the background. All she could think about was a hot shower and a soft bed. By morning her hand was swollen, the finger a blooming shade of red. She recalled the previous nights mishap and, out of sheer curiosity, dug through the bag again. At the very bottom lay a large, rustcolored needle.
What in the world? she whispered, baffled at how such a thing ended up in her tote. She tossed the needle into the kitchen waste bin, fetched a firstaid kit, and cleaned the wound. After bandaging, she headed to work, but by lunchtime a fever was climbing up her neck.
She rang 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 feels like a furnace. Andbelieve it or notI found a huge rusted needle in my bag. Thats what I pricked myself with.
Maybe you should see a doctor, love. It could be tetanus or some infection, James warned.
Dont overreact. Ive bandaged it, Ill be fine, Emma replied, trying to sound brave.
Each hour the fever got worse. She barely made it through the workday before hailing a cab home, knowing that the bus would be a marathon she couldnt endure. She collapsed onto the sofa and drifted off.
In her dream, her late grandmother Agneswho had passed away when Emma was a childappeared. Emma had no idea why she knew it was Agnes, but the feeling was unmistakable. Agnes, bent and wrinkled, could have scared the wits out of anyone, yet Emma sensed she was there to help.
The old woman guided Emma through a meadow, pointing out herbs to gather, insisting she brew a decoction and drink it to cleanse her body. Theres someone out to get you, Agnes whispered, but youll have to fight and survive. Time is short.
Emma awoke, drenched in sweat. It felt like shed slept for ages, but a glance at the clock showed only a few minutes had passed. The front door slammed openJames was back. She slid off the sofa, shuffled to the hallway, and when James saw her, he stopped short, breath caught.
What on earth happened to you? Look at yourself in the mirror.
Emma stalked to the mirror. Yesterday shed seen a bright, smiling face; now her hair hung in greasy clumps, dark circles framed her eyes, her complexion was pallid, and her stare was empty.
Whats happening?
She recalled the dream and told James, I saw my granny in a dream. She told me what to do
Emma, get dressed. Were going to the hospital.
Im not going, she snapped. Granny said the doctors wont help.
A fullblown argument erupted. James called her insane, haunted by feverish visions of a granny. For the first time they truly clashed. James tried to drag her out by the arm, shouting, If you wont go willingly, Ill make you.
Emma broke free, lost her balance, and smacked her head on a cupboard corner. Enraged, James snatched his bag, slammed the door, and stormed out. Emma managed only a quick email to her boss, claiming she was ill and needed a few days off.
James returned after midnight, apologising, but Emmas reply was curt: Take me to the village where my granny lived tomorrow.
The next morning Emma looked more like a walking corpse than a healthy woman. James kept pleading, Emma, dont be daft. Lets go to the hospital. I cant lose you.
But they drove to the little village Emma could only name. She hadnt set foot there since her parents sold the old grannys cottage after Agnes died. She slept through most of the journey, only waking as they neared the outskirts and announcing, Here.
She climbed out of the car, collapsed onto the grass, and knew she was exactly where the dream had pointed. She gathered the herbs Agnes had described, and they returned home. James brewed the tea exactly as she instructed. Emma sipped it gingerly, feeling a little more human with each swallow.
She shuffled to the bathroom, stood up, and stared at the toilet waterblack as night. Rather than panic, the sight reminded her of Agness words: Darkness comes out
That night Agnes visited again, still smiling, then spoke.
They threw a curse at you with that rusted needle. My brew will give you strength, but only for a spell. You must find who did it and return the mischief. I cant see who, but its tied to your husband. If you hadnt tossed that needle, I could’ve told you more.
Try this, Agnes continued. Buy a packet of needles, and over the biggest one chant, Spirits of the night, hear me! Help me uncover the truth. Help me find my foe Slip that needle into your husbands bag. The one who cast the spell will prick themselves on it. Then well learn their name and can turn their evil back on them.
The apparition faded like fog.
Emma woke still feeling poorly, yet confident shed recover. She knew Agnes would see her through. James decided to stay home and look after her, surprised when Emma asked to pop out to the corner shop alone.
Emma, dont joke. You can barely stand. Ill go with you, James said.
James, make me some soup; I have a massive appetite after this illness, she replied.
She followed Agness advice to the letter. That evening the enchanted needle lay in Jamess bag. Before bed he asked, Are you sure you can manage on your own? Should I stay?
Ive got this, she answered.
Emma felt better, though she knew some darkness lingered. The thirdday brew acted like an antidote, weakening the malevolent force. She waited impatiently for James to return from work. When he walked in, she greeted him cheerily, How was your day?
Fine, why do you ask? he replied.
She thought the mystery was deadended, but James added, Imagine this: Iwona from next doors department wanted to help me today, reached for the keys to my office, and stabbed herself on a needle in her bag. Where did that needle come from? She glared at me like shed kill me with a stare.
Whos Iwona? Emma asked.
Shes the only one who matters to me. I love you, just you, James said, eyes soft.
Was she at your birthday dinner? Emma inquired.
Yes, a good friend, nothing more.
Suddenly everything clicked. Emma finally understood how the ancient needle had wound up in her handbag. James floated into the kitchen where dinner waited. Later that night, Agnes showed Emma how to return the curse to Iwona, explaining that Iwona wanted to oust her as Jamess favourite, planning to use magic again if needed. Shell stop at nothing, Agnes warned.
Emma did exactly as instructed. Soon after, James mentioned that Iwona had taken sick leave, claiming she was terribly ill and doctors were helpless.
Emma begged James to drive her to the village for a weekend, to the graveyard where she hadnt been since her grannys funeral. She bought a bouquet, gloves, and trudged through the overgrown grass to locate Agness grave. At the headstone she saw a photographher granny, the very one who had visited her in dreams, the one whod saved her life. Emma tidied the grave, placed the flowers in a vase of water, and sat on the bench, speaking aloud:
Grandma, Im sorry I didnt visit sooner. I thought a yearly visit was enough. I was wrong. Ill come more often. If it werent for you, I probably wouldnt be here.
She felt a warm hand on her shoulders, turned, but only a gentle breeze brushed her cheek
The night drifted on, and for the first time in days, Emma thought the worst was behind her.
