Prim unthreaded her fingers from Dante’s and turned around to face him. His eyes were already on her. “So you’ll fly back? How long will that take?”
He lifted his head up so the pressure of his face on the pillow wouldn’t muffle his words. “I’m not sure if Marnie and them stayed in the South or not. I’ll check Sartu--that’s where they’d be. But if they’re not there, I’ll fly all the way. It’s usually about ten days, though it varies depending on how hard I push myself, how often I rest.”
Prim chewed her lip, nodding.
Dante hooked his hand around her neck. “I have to come back when I need to withdraw more of my immense fortune from the Bench,” he said in a forced, jokingly arrogant tone. “I have to come back to make sure the Cavs stay clean. I have to come back to make sure Blukke isn’t getting into trouble.” He kissed her. “I’ll be back, Bear.”
Despite herself, a tear slipped out. “I love you, Dante.”
“I love you, too.”
Prim stayed in her chamber for an hour after Dante left. She wanted to make sure he was properly gone before venturing to Kallia’s suite. They’d said their goodbyes, and she couldn’t stand the thought of running into him again after she’d shored up the dam that was holding back her feelings. If she’d seen him, the flood of emotion would have drowned her.
A week passed. If the dragon whisperers were in Sartu, Dante might be home by now. Another week passed. He would surely be home by now, whether or not he had to fly himself. A month passed. Prim wondered how he spent his time now that he was wealthy and free. Not with the loose women of Pregg he’d been familiar with, she was certain, but still she clenched her fists at the thought.
Prim spent her days in the way she always had, except without her lesson with Helena. As she lounged in Kallia’s chambers, or walked the gardens, or trained in the armory each day, a heaviness settled over her. Sometimes, it was due to something that reminded her of Roan. Sometimes, it was due to something that plucked at one of her newly recovered memories, reminding her of her parents. Sometimes, it was the ache of missing Dante, which didn’t seem to have to be brought upon by a trigger like the other two. That particular pain stabbed at her incessantly and without warning.
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Surprisingly, seeing Blukke eased rather than worsened the pain, though the bowerbird shifter’s visits to the castle had dropped to only a couple times per week and he no longer pretended to be a guard. He’d also taken to spending most of his time in the complex with Prim rather than Bristol. Prim would have assumed the two heartbreakers who easily lost interest in their prey had tired of one another, but she still saw them sneak off alone on occasion.
Another couple of months passed. She’d now been away from Dante longer than she’d been with him. When the realization didn’t ease the heaviness and pain, Prim found herself knocking on Helena’s door. The door cracked and the mentor narrowed her eyes, but thrust the door open fully and stepped aside, a silent invitation to enter.
Prim didn’t bother with sitting down or offering pleasantries. She stood in the center of Helena’s chamber with her arms crossed over her blue dress, her boots sinking into the thick rug. “You said I could lope halfway across the world when I stopped my lessons, but I didn’t practice those two weeks I was gone and still couldn’t even make it to Hogard from Pregg.”
Helena closed the door. “Nice to see you Primrose.”
“Why couldn’t I?”
The mentor stared at Prim in that intense way of hers before folding her arms across her chest. “Imagine gifts are fueled by water. If you take a mug to the fountain and hold it under the stream, that’s your cache getting filled. What our lessons did was effectively pierce a hole in the bottom of that mug, preventing it from ever filling. By keeping the mug empty--or nearly so--your magic was weak. Gifts work far more efficiently with a larger cache, so the same distance will take less magic the more powerful you are. Two weeks isn’t long enough to build up those kinds of reserves. By not using your magic, you had sealed the hole, but you hadn’t had the mug under the fountain long enough for it to fill entirely. Once you give yourself time to have it filled to the brim, you’ll be able to lope halfway across the world and back without it depleting you.”
Prim didn’t quite understand the mechanics, but she didn’t care. She understood what that would mean. “How long will it take?”
Helena tilted her head slightly to the side, considering. “Likely a couple of years.”
“Could I lope to Pregg and back everyday once I reach that level of reserves?”
The mentor’s mouth didn’t curve up into a smile, nor did the corner twitch like Dante’s did when he was trying to hold back a laugh, but there was a slight change to the line between Helena’s lips that Prim interpreted as amusement. “Everyday? Why on Hosta would you want to go to Pregg and back everyday?”
Prim shook her head. “Not go to Pregg and back. Go to Hogard and back. From Pregg.”
“What’s the difference?”
Prim smiled. “In this case, Pregg would be my home. So, could I do it?”
Helena’s eyes twinkled. “There’s only one way to find out.”