Images flashed through Rosemonde's mind too fast to process. It was as though someone was fast-forwarding through a movie of her life. She knew that she needed to press pause, and then play what she needed, but she had no control over the recall. Back, back she went. It seemed the ointment was choosing for her when to stop, what to remember.

A woman with a face like a Botticelli angel nursed her as a tiny baby. It was her Christening, and this beautiful woman was her godmother... After the service, her mother had spoken to the woman with some urgency.

"Promise me, Libuse. Promise me you will be there for her, to help her understand. You know what I have foreseen. We will not be there for her when the time comes. We cannot protect her or teach her. Please find her, and guide her when it happens."

"Of course, Annette. I will be watching over her always." The woman Libuse, kissed her mother on both cheeks before handing her back into her mother's arms.

Abruptly she was pulled from that memory and into another...

She is five, and today is her first day at school.

"You will love it, I promise. You will learn lots of new things and you can tell me all about them when I pick you up this afternoon," her mother had said when she had dropped her off in the morning. Now school was over, but she had not come to take her home. The children around her all rushed into their parents' arms, but where was her mother?

Soon there were only a few others at the school gate. Her mother was late. It had begun to rain. The sky had darkened and Rosemonde was afraid. For some reason, there was no teacher at the gate that day. She began to cry.

"Hello." It was her godmother, only as a small child she had not known that. "Why don't you stand under this big umbrella with me so that you don't get wet?" she said.

"Mummy said I shouldn't talk to strangers," five-year-old Rosemonde sniffed.

"Hmm, well your mummy is right about that. I tell you what; why don't I just hold the umbrella over you until she gets here? We won't talk, okay? That way you haven't disobeyed your mummy, and you won't get into trouble."

"Okay." Rosemonde stopped crying.

A short time later her mother arrived, frantic. She had had a minor car accident and that was why she was late. "Rosemonde thank God you're safe! Where are the teachers? Oh, Lord! It was fine out today and I didn't think to pack you a raincoat." Her mother rambled on when she was upset. "Wait a minute, why aren't you wet?"

"The lady held a big umbrella over me?"

"Lady, what lady?"

There was nobody there.

"Oh!" Little Rosemonde looked around in surprise. "She's gone. She said that she would hold the umbrella until you came, but I didn't get to say thank you. Mummy, she was so pretty. She had golden hair, just like an angel. Do you think she was?"

The air shimmered slightly where Rosemonde had been standing just seconds earlier. Annette smiled. "Thank you, Libuse," she said quietly...

The memories rushed on. She was fifteen.

There was a knock on the door of their family home. It was very late. Being a school night, both Rosemonde and her older brother Jean-Paul were supposed to be asleep in their beds...

Her father had opened the door slightly, to see who it was. A pale-faced girl of about twelve and a smaller child, a boy of about nine, stood outside. They seemed shy and did not make eye contact.

"You have to let us in, we need to use your phone. Our parents are worried," the girl said.

"What is the number? I can call them for you," her father replied.

The two children turned to look at one another before the older child, became more insistent and said, "Let us in, my brother needs to use the bathroom."

Rosemonde's father relented and opened the door to let them in. Once they crossed the threshold, the children looked up at him and he got a good look at them, for the first time. Their eyes were a solid black, like an oil slick.

Rosemonde felt her father's fear. She and Jean-Paul were awake now and had entered the hallway as they had heard voices. She heard her father ask, "What do you really want?"

"We have been sent to collect you," the small boy answered. It was the first time he had spoken and his voice seemed too adult for a small child. It made Rosemonde shiver.

"NO! Dad, what have you done?" Jean-Paul cried.

Rosemonde's mother was now also awake. She followed the voices into the hallway and screamed when she saw the black eyed children. Like her son, she knew what they were.

"François Oh my God!" She pointed at the children. "YOU GET OUT OF OUR HOUSE NOW!"

The boy smiled eerily and said simply, "HE let us in. When you point a finger, you have three fingers pointing back at you."

The girl continued in a sing-song voice, "And so we take three."

"GET OUT NOW!" Jean-Paul charged at the children forcing them back outside the door.

"Soon," the boy said.

"You will be the first," the girl pointed to Jean-Paul.

"And with you, the payment will be completed." the boy pointed to Rosemonde's father François.

"Payment? What is this? What are you, people?" Rosemonde finally spoke.

"You will forget that you have met our kind until we have need of you." The boy pointed to Rosemonde who immediately lost consciousness.

"ROSEMONDE!"

Everything was black. A tiny pinprick of light emerged. She concentrated on it, watched it grow and expand. She followed the light into the next memory and then the next. Always, Libuse, the woman she had identified as her godmother, was there. She was never obvious, but Libuse was always present, watching, guiding; fulfilling the promise she had given her mother.

Libuse had even watched over her when she had travelled. The hostel where she had been staying had been flooded. Her belongings, including her passport, were damaged. She recognized Libuse as the staffer who had helped her in the Australian Embassy when she had wanted to return home.

Once home, she had explored the idea of tertiary education but decided that it was beyond her, financially. Libuse was there again. She stood behind one of the stands at the university open day and suggested that Rosemonde applied for a scholarship. Rosemonde did and was accepted. Libuse had even been at her graduation...

How is it that she had not noticed the gentle presence of this woman in her life, time and time again? How was it possible that she always looked the same as she did on the day, she held her as a little baby at her Christening? Why did she not age?

The memories slowed again...

She was having lunch in a shopping mall with Myrddin Thomas. She was explaining something to him.

"You can choose again if you want to..." She reached for his hand across the table.

Myrddin looked at her small hand in his. "I do want to," he said quietly.

The scene shifted anew....

She was at an art show where Myrddin's little sister, Gwendolyn had her work on display. Myrddin had asked her to come, and yet he had abandoned her for a woman called Zoiia. He was apologising, and...something more.

"I want your friendship, Rosemonde. I want more than your friendship. If you will have me, I'd like to be your boyfriend. Will you let me introduce you to Zoiia, as my girlfriend?"

Was that what she wanted?

Fast forward...

She was in a hospital and Drew Wilson was with her.

He took her in his arms. She didn't pull away from his embrace not even when he kissed her ever so lightly on the lips. It was like an electric shock went through her, beginning at her toes and ending with her hair standing on its end.

Drew!

But something else had happened...

She had been taken from the hospital and was now a captive, in chains. It was the woman she had seen at the art show, Zoiia.

"Wh-what are you?" she had asked her.

"Very very hungry," Zoiia had replied.

And then, she and Zoiia were alone no longer...

"PAUL! HOW THE HELL DID YOU GET INTO MY HOME?"

"I'm pretty resourceful, but that doesn't matter right now. You have been summoned by the board. You don't want to be late..."

"HOW DARE YOU GIVE ME ORDERS?"

"I dare as your new High Priest. Myrddin is gone..."

Myrddin had been their High Priest? And now...he was dead?

Zoiia had departed, but Rosemonde was still in danger... That man, Paul, he had also been at the art show...with Zoiia.... He was mad. He wanted to drink blood, her blood! He was going to drain her slowly.

He was naked now. Was this part of the ritual that made him one of the undead? Clearly, he was going to force himself on her as well. She had to fight him somehow. If she remained passive, she was going to die...just like Summer.

Realising that he had his back to her she lifted her head and noticed some sort of ceremonial dagger resting on a pile of stones near her right hand. She managed to grab it and hide it underneath her body, without Paul's knowledge...

He didn't see the blade coming... Rosemonde didn't stop until Paul did.

Everything was black once more but she felt deeply rested now. Then, she heard a familiar voice, "Rosemonde can you hear me?"

"Libuse?"

"Yes, my dear. Do you trust that I will keep you safe?"

"You have always kept me safe, thank you. I do trust you."

"Then come. You are welcome at Tweldor. Myrddin needs your help, your appraisal."

"Myrddin is alive?"

"Yes, he has been looking for you."

"Oh no! He is their High Priest!"

"He says they tricked him."

"Is that true?"

"That is what we will determine, with your help. Also, he has permitted me to explain to you what happened to him as a child. Will you allow me to show you?"

Rosemonde consented and Libuse proceeded to show her. Finally, she understood. She felt Myrddin's pain and she felt his hurt and anger when no one would believe him.

"Why didn't anyone help him? Oh, God, he had no one, no one at all. No wonder he grew up with hatred in his heart. He feels he cannot trust anyone!"

"Indeed. I share your compassion for him — as a small child. However, he did have a choice. He killed as an act of revenge, not once, but twice. When he was forced to leave his father's house, the parents of his friend Max offered him a home. He refused their help. He then made a calculated decision to murder his uncle. He killed Zoiia too. It was a choice, on both occasions. Now he is asking for help. I am proud of him, proud that he is asking finally; but can he be trusted? The Councillors will decide. They also want your testimony."

"I am so afraid! I killed someone too, Libuse. I-I took a life."

"I know child. It is an awful thing, but your situation was different. Had you not killed that man, you would not be alive, and that is the truth! Your disgust at what you had to do, your fear — that is why you could not remember. It's over child. Fear no more. We are here. We are all here — those who love you."

"Those who love me? Those...plural?"

"Myrddin, Mairead, Andrew -"

"They-they are with you?"

"Yes, my dear. They are all here, even the detective that you and Mairead thought was rather cute." She laughed softly. "They all care about you and want to protect you. Ben and Liam will also help you. Let them guide you here. You do not need to be afraid anymore."

"I-I will come."

"Good. You had best wake up then...."

And so Rosemonde awoke.

"Water... Oh, please! My throat feels like I've swallowed sand," she groaned. Her lips felt as though they were stuck together and her mouth was so dry that she could barely swallow.

"Rosemonde? BEN SHE'S AWAKE. FETCH WATER, QUICKLY!" Liam shouted.

Ben rushed into the tent. He helped Rosemonde sit up and drink. "Easy lass. Take small sips. Not too fast and not too much or you'll-"

Rosemonde vomited.

"Do that," Liam finished, laughing.

"Oh my gosh, how embarrassing. I'm so sorry, Ben. Did I get you?" Rosemonde was mortified.

"Nope, just the tarp and that's easy to clean. Keep sipping, slowly. Are you all right?"

"Bit woozy but I'll be fine... I remember. I remember everything!" Rosemonde said triumphantly.

Liam turned her towards him. Addressing her seriously he said, "I know that took a lot out of you Rosemonde, but we need to get going as soon as possible. If you're still feeling weak, I can shift into a horse and carry you on my back."

"No need Liam. I'm fine. Let me clean up this mess and get dressed and then I'll be ready to go. Take me to Tweldor. Take me to my godmother."

Liam let out the breath he was holding. "Told ya, didn't I?" He grinned at Ben and the two of them exited the tent.

"She's a lot tougher than she looks." Ben chuckled in agreement.

Liam exhaled again. "She's going to need to be," he said, seriously.