by Dante King
Just then, the door beside the bar banged open, and out burst the crowd of sappers we’d fought earlier. Wounds were healed, bruises barely showed anymore, and burns were nothing more than scarred skin. Each one of the sappers had been completely repaired by the Mistress’s magic. Except for Mohawk. He hadn’t fared quite so well. His mohawk was nothing more than wispy tufts of scorched hair.
The Mistress seemed quite capable of healing all kinds of wounds, so I wondered whether she’d left Mohawk’s hair like that on purpose. I would have to ask her more about her abilities; she seemed to possess incredible power.
The Mistress appeared behind them. “Out, all of you.” She began shooing them out from behind.
Mohawk stuck his hand to his head. “You didn’t fix my hair!”
Mistress Blossom shrugged. “Fixing your hair was never in the agreement; it’s not a service this tavern offers. Now out, I don’t want to say it again.”
She stuck her heeled boot out and shoved Mohawk in the ass, making him stumble forward. “And don’t come back. Well, not until tomorrow evening, anyway.”
With a series of grumbles and sour looks, the sappers all made their way out the front door. Mistress Blossom dusted her hands off and turned back toward the bar.
As she walked back, she turned her head and spied our booth. “Sophie, dear,” she called out. “Would you be a darling and keep looking after the bar for me? I have some other business to attend to.”
“Of course, ma’am.” Sophie smiled and continued serving beers behind the bar, as Mistress Blossom walked toward our table.
“I do apologize for my absence,” the Mistress said as she walked up to our table and leaned against it with her elbows, pressing her voluptuous breasts against the seams of her dress. “I have to consistently offer these services to the scumbags as well as the good customers. Business wouldn’t be the same without them.”
“Not at all, Mistress Blossom,” Jacques replied with a wave of his hand. “We’ve been amply entertained in your absence. William and I are old friends, and we had some catching up to do. Please, sit down and join us.” He patted the bench next to him.
“Actually,” Mistress Blossom began as she fixed me with a stare. “I had something else in mind.”
I felt myself involuntarily grow hard as she stared at me. What did she have in mind? She was an attractive woman, I wouldn’t deny that, but this was all a little sudden. It was a different matter with Amelia and Katlyn; I had a close bond with them. But I wasn’t about to whore myself out.
“I want to see you draw a tattoo,” the Mistress said.
I breathed a sigh of relief.
Mistress Blossom narrowed her eyes. “What else would I have meant?” She put her hand to mouth and gasped, exaggeratedly, her eyes wide. “My, you do have a dirty mind. I can’t believe you would insinuate such things.”
Jacques and Veronica burst out laughing. I felt my cheeks prickle with heat.
“Of course, I’ve nothing against a bit of a romp, but I see you’re already taken.” Mistress Blossom indicated Amelia, next to me. “No, the only thing I want you to show me right now is the tattoos you can draw. I have some Beast Cores, so you wouldn’t have to use your own. I’ve been saving them for a special purpose for a long time.”
“What affinity are they?” I asked.
“They are the Nature affinity, the affinity which allows the Mage to cast spells of growth and renewal. My affinity.”
“Nature affinity Cores?” Amelia said excitedly. “They’re very rare!”
“As is the Nature affinity,” Veronica put in.
The Mistress looked at me. “If you can give me a tattoo like the ones I already use, I’m sure I can work out how to power them, just like I do with these stockings already.”
I thought for a moment. I’d only ever drawn a tattoo on myself, Amelia, and Katlyn. But Mistress Blossom had an affinity, and she said she had the right Beast Cores. It was an exciting opportunity.
“I can do it,” I said. “If you can give me the design, I’ll be able to replicate it.”
“That won’t be a problem. Let’s go then,” the Mistress said as she stood up to leave.
I was surprised. Of course, it probably did make more sense not to perform this in front of a crowd of strangers, but what did the Mistress have in mind?
“Uh, go where?” I asked.
“Silly me.” Mistress Blossom slapped her forehead. “I should have explained. We’ll go to my dungeon.”
“Dungeon?” I asked, feeling unsure.
She laughed. “Did I say dungeon? I meant to say cellar. I call it my dungeon among my special friends.” She gave me another look that made my balls ache. “We will be undisturbed there. Please, follow me.”
Chapter Fifteen
I stood, lifting my pack which contained Amelia’s spellbook and slinging it over my shoulder. Amelia, Veronica, and Jacques all fell in behind me as I followed Mistress Blossom toward a door out of the back of the bar. I was excited about the prospect of using my Ink Mage abilities to give her a new tattoo.
“Sophie,” Mistress Blossom said to the barmaid in a quiet voice, “do make sure we are undisturbed, would you? We’re going to the dungeon.” She whispered the last bit to the barmaid, who nodded confidentially.
The Mistress opened the door behind the bar and led us into the hallway to the kitchens. The hallway was quite clean and bare, and the sound of the noisy bar quietened as the door swung closed again. The walls were made of the same wood as the rest of the tavern, but there were only a couple of candles in sconces, lighting the way for kitchen staff bringing meals out to the guests.
The only decoration was the skull of a boar on the wall, mounted at shoulder height. The boar must have been a magical monster when it was alive, because my Elemental Sensitivity was drawn to the bones. Mistress Blossom stopped in front of the boar’s skull.
“What are we doing in the middle of the hallway?” Amelia asked.
“Just you wait and see,” Jacques interrupted before the Mistress could respond.
“How do you know what we’re doing here, Jacques?” I asked. “Just what kind of relationship do you have with Mistress Blossom?”
“A close one,” Jacques said.
Amelia smiled. “Is that so?”
“Not the kind you’re thinking of. Don’t forget, the little fellow downstairs doesn’t work.” Jacques laughed.
“Quiet, all of you,” the Mistress muttered. “I need to concentrate.”
She put her hands on the giant tusks of the boar skull and pulled it gently toward her. There was a clicking sound, like gears working, and the skull came out from the wall a short way. It was mounted on a polished, circular wooden beam, reaching back into the wall.
Mistress Blossom used the tusks to rotate the skull to the left. Then she rotated it to the right. I heard another click, then a rumbling in the wall behind. She rotated the skull back to the left again, carefully, as if she knew exactly how far to turn it.
This time, she turned it further. I heard a loud thump in the wall, then there was a rumbling and clacking and the outline of a doorway appeared as a section of the wall drew backward into the recess, leaving a gap wide enough to pass through.
The Mistress stepped to the side and extended a hand. “Please, be my guests.”
I could see steps leading down into the gloom. Mistress Blossom took a candle from just inside the stairway and lit it at one of the nearby sconces. She handed the candle to Jacques, who proceeded down the steps.
I thought it seemed a bit foolish going into the underground cellar of a woman we’d only just met, but Jacques had indicated that he already knew the cellar, and he hadn’t hesitated to go inside, so I assumed it would be safe for us as well. I let Amelia and Veronica follow Jacques. I took up the rear, with Mistress Blossom behind me. As we descended the stairway, I heard a rumble as the door closed behind us, sealing up the wall again.
After we reached the bottom of the steps, we w
aited as Mistress Blossom lit candles in sconces around the room.
“Oh, fiddlesticks,” she said. “The candle went out; I’ll have to light it from the sconce again.”
“I can help out with that,” I said, producing a low flame on my finger.
The Mistress laughed. “Why, of course you can.”
There was enough light for me to see that there were many sconces in the walls. I went around the walls and lit the fat, stubby, white candles.
As I went around the wide room lighting the candles, I inspected what was there. As the candlelight brightened, it cast flickering shadows over all the equipment around the sides of the room, which was about twenty yards by ten yards. Not a huge room, but pretty large for an underground cellar.
Several benches and low tables lined the walls. Two of the tables featured elaborate candelabra. I went over to light the candles in the candelabra. Weapons, armor, and other gear lay on the tables, or hung on the walls above them. I flicked my thumb against the edge of an axe on one of the tables. Totally blunt.
Other assorted equipment lay on other tables at one end of the room. I couldn’t say from this distance exactly what it was, but it looked a bit flimsy to be armor. I noticed some lewd artwork on the walls in the spaces between the weapons as well.
“What’s this room for?” Amelia asked.
“Judging by the weapons and armor,” I replied, “I would say it was for training. The weapons aren’t sharp, and some of them are made of wood.”
“You have a good eye, William,” Mistress Blossom said. “Welcome to my training chamber.”
Up against one of the walls were a series of wooden frames that looked like they would be used for vaulting over or holding one’s weight on. There were some dummies and other targets with arrows sticking out as well. The room wasn’t large, but 20 yards would still be long enough to practice short range accuracy.
Veronica walked over to the table at the end with the other equipment. There were all sorts of leather items there. There were a few pieces that might have served for rudimentary armor, but most looked more ornamental than practical.
Veronica held up a whip and used it to gesture at some of the other items on the table. “And what is all this equipment for? It doesn’t look like it’s used for fight training.”
“But my dear, I never said this room was just for fight training. It’s just possible that we train in other skills down here as well.”
“I see.” Veronica raised an eyebrow. “Skills like the ones depicted in this artwork?”
Now that Veronica pointed them out, I noticed that the paintings were all of Mistress Blossom herself. Some of the positions she was holding in the paintings didn’t seem anatomically possible.
“I have some ... diverse interests. Now, if you don’t appreciate the decor in my cellar, you can always leave, but I for one, am eager to see some tattoos being drawn.”
“On the contrary,” Jacques cut in. “The decor here is splendid, Mistress Blossom. It really is a very charming room.”
Charming wasn’t quite the word I would have chosen, but for all that it wasn’t unpleasant. The erotic art on the walls was pretty sexy, and the thought of what this buxom, attractive mistress got up to in this room was making me hard. I glanced at the women and realized that there was a similar look in both of their faces as they looked at the leather gear and other toys which lay around the room. Jacques stood back a way, his arms crossed over his chest and a knowing look on his face
“It certainly is a pleasant space. I like the decor very much,” I said, and Veronica and Amelia murmured their agreement.
“Well thank you,” the Mistress replied. “It took a lot of effort.”
“I can see that,” I said. “Now, I’m going to be drawing a tattoo for you. Let’s get set up.”
“Of course,” the Mistress said. She bustled over to the table where Veronica had been inspecting her leather equipment. The wooden table had a couple of drawers just below the tabletop. Mistress Blossom rummaged around inside one of the drawers before making a small exclamation of triumph.
She turned around with a small wooden box in her hand. “Here they are!”
She flipped open the lid for us all to see. Inside were two small Nature Cores, slightly larger than the Cold and Fire Cores I’d handled previously. They were dark green, the color of summer leaves in full bloom.
I felt the familiar tugging sensation in my mind and in my Mana pool, as all my Mana was attracted to these potent Cores. When I reached out a hand to touch them, Mana surged along my arm and into my fingers. As I touched the hard, slick outer shell of one of the Cores, the surface of the Core glowed. A flash of light went through the liquid inside, luminescent like the glow of fireflies behind a pane of green glass.
Amelia and Veronica gasped as they saw it, and the Mistress’ grip on the wooden box shook slightly as she clutched it in awe.
“Well I’ll be,” Jacques said. “That’s some fancy magic you’ve got going on there, lad.”
“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 par
allels 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.
