Ess sat at the table, her mindmap open in front of her. Why was it everyone seemed to think she was getting somewhere when it was obvious she wasn't? The diagram of people and links resembled less a web and more the pathetic few strands left after a storm. Time was running out and even the hour tumbling with Shades had been a desperate but doomed attempt to drown out the ticking clock always at the background of her thoughts.

Her phone rang and she grabbed at it, anxious to leave Shades in his post coital coma.

"Hello?"

"Ess. What have you got yourself mixed up in?"

"Hello, Dorothy. Sorry?" Mentally she kicked herself. She was a strong and confident daughter of Gaia. Why did she always feel so insecure in the presence of her old mentor? She stood up. She'd read somewhere that standing when you were on the phone made you sound more assertive.

"I've run some tests," said Dorothy. "There's something odd. I've not seen it before, but there's definitely something contaminating you, girl."

"Contaminating me? What do you mean?"

"I found something coating your hair and nail. Very fine, hardly a smidgeon, but it was there. Not in the material, but on the outside. You say you didn't ingest anything?"

"No."

"Then whatever it is, I think you breathed it in. That would explain the coating on the surface. Any idea how?"

Ess closed her eyes and thought back to the meeting with the king. How many of them had been in that clearing? How long had they lived there? Her London history wasn't good enough to recall how old Regents Park was. Had it always been woodland that west London had simply grown around? Mother, the dust could have accumulated there for centuries. How much of it would have been floating around her in the time she spent there?

"Maybe."

"But you can't tell me, or what it is."

"You don't know?"

"It's not Wiccan, that much I can tell you. It's not herbal and it's not mineral. Organic, I think. But then, I suspect you knew that. Interesting little exercise you've set me, sister, like trying to read the paper blindfold."

"What can I do about it?"

"Well, that's the question, isn't it. How do we cure something when we don't know what it is? The best course for the moment is a purgative. Flush it out of your system, if you can. I'd have better advice if you could talk about it, but then, if you could talk about it..."

Then she wouldn't have the problem.

"Thanks, Dorothy," she said, wishing she could feel thankful.

"I'll keep working on it, but if it's not herbal then you may have to fix this on your own. Blessings of the Mother on you."

"What? Oh, yeah, you too."

She hung up and stared at the useless mindmap, wishing she could talk to someone about the looming deadline. Damn Daisy's father. It wasn't her fault. She was trying to find his daughter, it wasn't her that had run off and it definitely wasn't her that had kidnapped Daisy. Why was she the one that was going to be punished?

She kicked the air in frustration, but it didn't help. She needed something more substantial to kick. She stared at her phone, then hit the speed dial.

"Oz?"