Jewel of Darkness by Quinn Loftis

sinister glow in the room making her feel as though she was walking into hell itself. She crossed over the threshold and halfway expected the doors to slam behind her ending with the clicking of a lock. But nothing so dramatic happened.
    “What do you think?” Volcan asked as he waved his hand in an arc, inviting her to look at her surroundings.
    Jewel turned in a slow circle. She took note of an old bookshelf resting against a stone wall. The books it contained appeared about as ancient as the castle itself. Her gaze slipped to a large round table sitting beside the shelf. There were other books strewn haphazardly across the table. Some books were lying open as though the person who had been reading them had been frantically flipping their pages and then tossing them aside. Volcan cleared his throat and she jerked her eyes away from the table. Jewel continued to turn. Aside from the table and bookshelf, there were a couple of well-worn wooden chairs standing sentinel in front of a stone fireplace on the left side of the room. As she watched, the fireplace suddenly erupted with bright flames. She glanced over at Volcan, who was lowering his outstretched arm.
    “That is nothing compared to what I will teach you,” he told her. Then he clapped his hands together and rubbed them eagerly. “Let us begin. Come.” Volcan waved her over.
    Jewel walked closer until she was a few feet away from the fae. She hated that there was a small amount of adrenaline running through her veins knowing she was about to learn about magic. She only wished it wasn’t under the current circumstances.
    “Every being has a core,” he began. “A normal human’s core contains a soul and nothing else. Supernatural beings are different. Their core contains their soul but also their magic. This magic is like a flame that burns continuously — a pilot light that is constantly waiting to be blown into a blazing inferno. When we draw on our magic, it’s comparable to gasoline being poured on a fire.”
    “Can the flame be extinguished?” Jewel asked.
    “Yes, because the flame does not burn on its own. I mentioned that magic strengthens when other supernaturals are around. These other beings act much like oxygen being slowly, endlessly fed to the fire. If given in a slow, steady stream of air, the fire doesn’t grow, but the flame is simply maintained.”
    “Do all the supernaturals have the same magic inside of them?”
    “Hmm.” Volcan appeared deep in thought and slowly shook his head. “All of our magic is fundamentally the same” ― he waved both hands in a circle around him, as if indicating a host of invisible supernatural beings ― “fae, werewolves, pixies, vampires, you name it… but there is one supernatural being whose magic is different. These beings are different because they were not born of magic. No, these beings have magic given them directly from the Great Luna. Their power resides in their cores, yes, but it also flows inside their veins; it saturates their cells.”
    “Gypsy Healers,” Jewel practically spoke in a whisper.
    “Correct,” Volcan confirmed. “Gypsy Healers have power in their blood that no other supernatural being has.”
    “What power?” she breathed the question. Damn her curiosity, she thought to herself. She kept telling herself she wouldn’t ask more questions, that she would only listen and respond when spoken to. For some reason, her mouth had a mind of its own.
    “The power to create.” His voice took on a reverent quality as he spoke. “She can use her blood to literally create other supernatural beings.”
    Jewel’s eyes narrowed. “But that’s not what the power is supposed to be used for. The Great Luna didn’t intend for the healers to be creators. She designed us to be shamans for her wolves. She designed me to use the magic she infused in me only for good. You want to take something good and pure and twist it into evil and use that evil against innocents.” Jewel forced