“The Cores themselves seem to be responding to you, William,” Amelia said.
“That hasn’t happened before,” I mused. “Perhaps it’s because my power is increasing with use.”
“That would make sense,” said Amelia. She was a well-read scholar, so I trusted her opinion. I would have to watch for more effects as my powers increased with use.
“What kind of creatures did these Cores come from?” I asked Mistress Blossom.
“They came from centaurs,” she replied. Her expression was a little sad. “They were such noble creatures, hunted at a time when the people of Brightwater attacked anything that moved. They knew no restraint back in those days.”
“It would seem that they now have too much restraint,” Amelia commented. “Now the people have to hire outsiders to hunt the monsters in the wild.” She gestured to indicate Veronica. “Monsters are supposed to only be found in the mines these days, but now the problem has grown so big that word of trouble reached Astros.”
Mistress Blossom nodded. “It’s hard to find a balance, isn’t it? Ruthless savages hunt all the Beasts out of existence, then compassionate souls preach restraint, then everyone stops hunting and grows soft.”
“And then the Arcanists move in to preach about moral corruption,” Veronica added. “Blaming breaches of their purity laws for our misfortunes. They use scapegoats like tattoo artists to shift the guilt.”
I started. I hadn’t expected to hear an opinion like that from Veronica. She must have been doing some thinking. I would have to ask her more about that later.
“How did you get those Cores?” I asked the Mistress.
“I saved them when some of the last centaurs were killed,” she replied. “Centaurs are sentient Beasts; I didn’t think it was right to let their Cores be sold for profit or left to rot.”
“You were right to do that,” Amelia said. “Centaurs and other sentient Beasts have especially powerful Cores. It’s a waste to simply consume their ink in the manufacture of weapons. I’ve read about the applications of the Cores of sentient Beasts before, and they can be very powerful.”
“What sort of applications do they have?” I asked.
“Unfortunately, the details were vague,” Amelia said. “The Cores haven’t had other uses for many centuries, since the Arcanists have a virtual monopoly on the trade of Cores. It’d be interesting to learn more about that.”
“I wonder what effect a sentient Core will have when I use it to draw a tattoo? Will it be more powerful?” I asked aloud.
“Well, there’s one way to find out.” said Mistress Blossom. “I’m more than happy to put these Cores to use in a tattoo. I always felt that they deserved a special purpose. In a way, I feel as if they represent this house.” She gestured above her head to indicate the tavern. “Centaurs are sentient creatures, with a deep connection to nature. And this house is built on the earth, entirely out of wood, and provides a natural and wholesome product to the children of men. The parallels are very meaningful to me.”
We paused in silence a moment to consider her words. I was more interested in practical matters than philosophical ones, so I waited a while until I figured everyone had chewed on the Mistress’s words for long enough.
“What sort of tattoo do you want, then?” I asked, at length.
“Well now, that is an exciting question.” Mistress Blossom’s eyes lit up. “I would love it if you can replicate the rune from my stockings. They are getting rather worn through, and will start to lose their power before long.”
I peered at her stockings. Each thread was thin, with a tiny design woven into it. “The runes are very small. I’m not sure I could replicate them without errors.”
“I can draw them,” the Mistress said. “I remember the design perfectly.” She held up her hand as Amelia was about to speak. “I know. It must be perfect. Have no fear; I could never forget this design—it is what has made this whole tavern possible for me.”
She left the box with the Beast Cores in it on a bench next to us before she hurried back over to the table at the end of the room. After searching in one of the drawers for a moment, she returned with a stick of charcoal in one hand and a towel in the other. She’d wrapped the charcoal in a length of cloth to keep her hand clean, and the end stuck out like the nib of a pen.
“I can draw the design on the floor here for you,” she said as she laid the towel on the ground and sat on it.
“You can draw it that well?” I asked.
“I have some experience drawing,” the Mistress replied. “I was taught by a former lover, the same one who produced the, uh ... artwork on the walls.” With a gesture, she indicated all the lewd paintings of herself. Her former lover really must have been quite talented. The realism was impressive.
Mistress Blossom began to draw. She worked in quick, short strokes, dragging the charcoal across the hard, smooth flagstones. Short strokes joined to form longer lines while smooth curves formed elegant shapes.
“There, all done,” she said after a few minutes. She sat back so we could all see.
The design we saw clearly represented a heap of earth, with a spray of flowers emerging. The flowers were drawn with such vigor, their lines filled with such energy, it looked as if they were actively bursting from the earth.
“And this is what allows you to cast the spell that repaired the tavern?” I asked.
“That’s right,” Mistress Blossom replied. “It was specially etched onto this clothing for me, by a tailor I’d become acquainted with while I was in the army.” She plucked at the fabric of her stockings as she mentioned them.
“Did he design that rune himself?” Amelia asked.
“No, certainly not. I’m not aware of anyone with that power,” the Mistress said. “The original design was meant to produce poison plants from
