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Seventeen

Magdalena

26 June 1895

I wish I did not have to write this, but it has been confirmed: Ana has been cursed with the Evil Eye.

So much happened during my visit—terrible, terrible things. But amidst all that, something wonderful too.

My hands are still trembling, but I will try to record all that happened as best I can, for it is important—the good and the bad.

When I arrived at Lavender House, bringing Ana’s necklace with me, I informed Nikola I needed coal from his hearth. He was naturally confused. It pained me to lie about its purpose, but he was perceptive and probed more, asking why I was choosing to purify the air now and not before.

“Is there some dark force or energy in the home?” he asked.

When I hesitated, he added that their family and home had been blessed for the Epiphany, as was the custom, showing me the faint chalk markings the priest had left above the front door with the initials of the Magi. I wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that—maybe it was a positive sign that the home was indeed protected from any evil spirits. And yet I still did not know how to explain the corpse in Ana’s reflection, or why she dreamed of the Devil.

So I confessed a little, told him that Ana had told me something troubling the day before about her dreams. “I really can’t say more until I perform this ritual,” I added. Luckily, he accepted this and helped me to gather three smoldering coal bricks from the hearth.

As soon as we brought the coal into Ana’s room, I sensed a shift in the atmosphere. A . . . thrumming, like the flutter of a cicada’s wings. I wasn’t sure if it was simply my nerves, or if there was some sort of force in the room that had awakened, become alert. I tried to shake this feeling away as I set the materials on the nightstand. Ana was thankfully asleep, though she tossed and turned a little. Nikola said he thought the day before had taken a toll on her, but I secretly worried it was something else, something eating away at her soul.

I asked Nikola to stay in the room. I felt frightened of what I might learn, and he has become a comforting presence to me. Now I’m glad I did. He agreed and stood on the other side of the bed as I poured holy water into a bowl. Using my tongs, I grasped the first glowing piece of coal, praying that it would float and prove all my worrying was unfounded.

But you know what happened. It sank straight to the bottom with a sizzling hiss. The sound caused Ana to shift in her sleep, though she didn’t wake.

“What is it?” Nikola asked when I stared at the bowl. His voice was quiet but tense. I didn’t answer him right away, hoping the coal would float up at any moment—but it remained submerged. I knew then my suspicions were confirmed, that the Evil Eye was indeed present. It’s curious how quickly I accepted this truth and shifted my prayers. I hoped then that it would be only one piece that sank, no more, telling me that the curse was not as formidable as it could be.

I dropped the second coal. It sank. And the third.

But I didn’t have time to process this, to let my fear swallow me, because as soon as the third coal piece plunged to the bottom, a strange thing happened.

Black threads rose from Ana’s body, like wisps of smoke. They snaked through the air, blooming into a golden orb. I stared, unsure what to make of it. It spun until a thin black iris faced me, and I realized it was no orb—but an eye. As soon as I met its gaze, a vision overtook my mind.

It was hazy, like a great fog had rolled in. I was walking along a promenade beside a river on a sunny afternoon. It wasn’t anywhere I’ve been before—it seemed vaster, sleeker, with shops and cafés lining the street. I caught the word Boulangerie on one storefront and wondered if I was in France. People in fine clothing sauntered by. I, myself, was wearing a yellow gown, more beautiful than any I own. My left arm was cradled by a man at my side—Marko. I stiffened, tried to pull away, but my body didn’t obey. It was as if I had slipped into someone else’s skin, simply looking through their eyes. Ana’s, I surmised.

Another couple approached. The man was older, with a fluffy gray mustache, while the woman was dainty, in a dark blue gown that suited her pale skin. Instantly, my—Ana’s—body froze. Marko tensed as well, like some sort of ripple effect.

“Out for a final stroll?” the other man said as they drew closer. Faintly, I registered he was speaking French, and yet I understood. The woman avoided my gaze, though I noticed her cheeks were ruddy, eyes red, as if she’d been crying.

“Yes. We will be taking the twelve o’clock train,” Marko said, also in French.

“Very good,” the man replied, turning toward me. “We hope you come again, Ana. I know my wife very much enjoyed your company.”

And yet her expression said the opposite. She gave a tight-lipped smile as she dipped her head. A jittery sensation overcame me, like I wanted to turn and run, but Marko was like a stone anchor, holding me tight to his side.

We continued on our way. As we walked, I glanced over my shoulder. The woman did the same, glaring at me. But something was wrong with her eyes. For a moment, the whites glowed yellow and her pupils sharpened like two knives cutting into mine. A chill whisked over my skin, and I shuddered.

“What’s wrong?” Marko asked.

“Nothing,” I quickly said. A few steps later, I chanced another peep at the woman, but she was no longer watching me.

A sudden force slammed me to the ground then, shattering my concentration. The vision dissipated and I was back in the bedroom. I wasn’t sure what was happening, only that someone was on top of me.

It was Ana, the sick version. She was attacking me. Pulling and scratching and hissing, as if she were deranged. Her eyes glowed yellow, just like the woman’s had. Like a wolf’s.

Nikola called out to her as he wrestled her off me. When he finally succeeded, she fell limp.

I scrambled into the hall, watching from afar as Nikola lifted her back into bed. The commotion had attracted Antula and the dog, who barked at me incessantly. Antula gave me an accusing look as she asked what happened. Nikola told her he didn’t know. I didn’t either, not fully. My skin stung where Ana’s nails had dug in, and my mind swam with the vision. Ana seemed fine at least. It was as if nothing had happened and she had simply fallen back asleep.