Several hours later, Prim was back in the windowless room with Helena.

Today, the petite woman brought no baskets with her, and Prim eyed her mentor suspiciously as she stood before her.

“What fresh hell have you imagined up for me today?”

The woman didn’t laugh. She didn’t smile. She just continued staring at Prim.

Prim sighed. “Yes, Helena?”

The woman stood eerily still, not a hint of motion even on the thin fabric of her tunic that landed on Helena’s mid-thigh, covering the view of her nether regions her tight pants would have otherwise afforded. Prim amused herself wondering if Dante would still have become smitten with her if she’d worn such a long shirt when they’d been traveling together. She knew he would have…it might have just taken a bit longer. Then she wondered how his search for clues was going.

Helena finally spoke, pulling Prim's thoughts away from Dante. “I requested an audience with the king and queen upon your return, but I was only just granted one this morning.”

Prim waited for Helena to explain, but she didn’t. Prim tilted her head, holding a hand out in question. “About?”

“You. Your gift. These lessons.”

Prim knew the game. She knew her mentor was a narcissist who enjoyed control. Prim would have to ask for every little bit of information. “And?”

The woman gestured to the empty room. “What do you see?”

Prim pressed her lips together, annoyed. “Nothing.”

“Exactly. No baskets. No items for you to dispel.” Helena narrowed her eyes at Prim, wanting her to put it together.

Prim’s stomach dropped. “You’re giving up on me.”

The woman shook her head, just one short turn. “I am trusting you. We all are.”

Prim hated feeling stupid, but she certainly did right now. “Am I supposed to understand what that means?”

Helena’s eyes turned sad, pitying. “No, Primrose. Because for fifteen years, I haven’t trusted you. I haven’t trusted you with your gift or the truth.”

Helena took a step forward and reached out for Prim, but she recoiled.

Dante had been right. Prim had gotten mad at him when he suggested Helena wasn’t as she seemed--but he’d been right. She’d known her for fifteen years for fuck’s sake, and he’d only known her a couple hours, yet he saw it when she didn’t.

The mentor swallowed, the first time Prim had ever seen any kind of hesitation or doubt.

“Explain,” Prim said coldly.

Helena took that step back, again folding her arms behind her. “You can’t recall items from the void.”

“No shit.” Prim no longer felt the need to reign in her annoyance.

The mentor’s neck twitched, taking the sass without responding. “I mean to say, you can’t. Ever. It’s not possible. It never was. It never will be. I lied about that being the point of our lessons.”

Prim clenched her fists, still not understanding. “Then what is the point?” Prim straightened, realizing something. That fucking bitch. “Why make me kill those animals knowing without a doubt I could never bring them back?”

Helena didn’t show any remorse on her face. “The purpose of the lessons was to drain you enough to keep your gift controlled. Dispelling living beings is more effective. It takes far more out of you to dispel a mouse than a bit of fruit, or loping for that matter.”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Prim’s heart pounded. She was trying to wrap her head around what Helena was saying, but she just didn’t understand.

For once, Helena continued without being prompted. “As a child, your gift was too powerful for you to control. It made you dangerous. The orphanage called upon me to see if anything could be done about it before they were forced to do something drastic.”

Prim’s mouth had gone dry at the icy violence in Helena’s tone. “What do you mean?”

The woman didn’t hesitate to answer. “Kill you.”

Prim’s breathing turned ragged. She stumbled to the wall, bracing a hand on the cool stone before dropping down, twisting around to press her back into it. She took several moments to try to calm herself before looking back at Helena. The mentor stared down at her with furrowed brows.

“They were going to kill me for dispelling a stupid toy?”

Prim hated the pity on the woman’s face. She wanted Helena’s usual distant, cold, neutral expression back.

“It was a toy that time. The concern was that the next time it would be another child.”

Prim laughed coldly. “Still a bit drastic for a hypothetical.”

Helena looked away.

A sick thought twisted Prim’s gut. “It was hypothetical, wasn’t it?”

Helena still kept her focus on the opposite wall. “They called me because I know more about magic and gifts than anyone else. I know more about most things than anyone else. I knew daily draining would keep your powers at a manageable level. I assured the king and queen of that when you were considered, but they insisted I remain to personally oversee you. After learning you were able to control your powers after a fortnight without using them at all, I assured them this morning that our lessons are no longer necessary. You are in control, Primrose. And without these lessons holding you back, you will be able to lope halfway across the world.”

Prim stared at the woman who’d lied to her all these years wondering what else she’d been hiding. “What is your gift, Helena?”

The mentor was silent for a moment before answering. “Time manipulation.”

“You can travel in time?” Prim gasped.

Shaking her head, she answered, “I can only pinpoint it on certain things. You want a green banana to turn yellow? I can speed up the time on it. A broken arm? I can speed up the time to heal it. I can turn back time, too.” Helena finally looked at Prim. “Do you know how old I am?”

Prim rolled her eyes. “No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me and it’s going to be shockingly high.”

Helena nodded, again ignoring Prim’s sarcastic tone. “Four hundred and thirty-seven. That’s how I’ve come to know so much. I’ve had the time to collect knowledge that others don’t. It’s also why I didn’t mind spending these years with you. I could have an eternity more. I just pinpoint my gift to return my body to a healthy age anytime I start to feel it getting weak.”

Prim couldn’t look away from her mentor, the information swirling around her mind. She couldn’t wait to share it all with Dante and talk it over with him.

“Have you ever used it on me?”

Helena’s eyes locked on hers as she nodded.

“For what?” Prim had never had a broken bone or anything like that. She’d thought she’d remember Helena using her gift on her, anyway. Though there were many things from her past she didn’t remember. Prim sucked in a breath. “Does it have to do with my memories?”

The familiar empty room suddenly seemed menacing. “Memories are naturally lost with age. I tried to age only your painful ones so that you wouldn’t remember them. I know I took others, too, and I apologize for that.”

She took her memories. Prim shot up, stalking to the woman and pushing her shoulder. “Who do you think you are? What gave you the right--”

Helena stepped back, holding her hands up. “You were a child. You were a good, sweet girl. And you did not deserve the pain you suffered. I did it to help you. I did it to protect you, as I’ve done every day since I met you.” She shook her head. “But you no longer need my protection. You can take care of yourself, Primrose. I should have given you the opportunity to test that long ago.”

“Give them back,” Prim said in a slow, vicious command.

The mentor shook her head, walking to the door and knocking to be let out. “I’m sorry, Primrose.”

The door opened and Helena slipped out, closing it behind her. Prim stood still, watching her go then staring at the door. She walked back to the wall and slid down it, dropping her head onto her knees.

Several minutes later, the door opened and Prim looked up only long enough to see Sarasha enter and close the door behind her. Prim heard and felt the fae take a seat next to her. “You okay?”

Prim didn’t lift her head. “No.”

Sarasha laughed. “That woman is terrifying.”

Prim didn’t answer. Terrifying wasn’t what she was. Deceitful, violating, evil--those seemed more fitting. Gods, why did today have to be the day Dante was off? Prim would have made him crush Helena with his invisible hands until she agreed to give back the memories. Or at least he could be the one trying to make her feel better--not Sarasha. Though it was sweet of her to try. At the thought, Prim realized it was odd Sarasha was comforting her and not Roan.

Prim lifted her head to look at the fae. “Where’s Roan?”

Sarasha shrugged. “He left just like Dante does when you’re in your lessons.” She perked up, nudging Prim with an elbow. “Speaking of…I thought you said you were alone and oh so chaste and virginal?”

Prim shook her head. She wasn’t in the mood for this. “Keep that to yourself, remember?”

Sarasha’s teasing smile faltered. “Of course.” The fae stood, offering Prim a hand. “Come on. Let’s get you to the armory.”