It's not the answer Joel expects and he tips his head back, looking at the sky above them, marvelling at the brightness of the stars. That's not a sky one sees in Siren Cove on any regular night, he knows she's done it, but it's beautiful and bright and he watches it for a long moment as he listens to her speak. It's not the answer he expects because it doesn't really sound as dark as he'd imagined. That the world was -- and still is, he thinks -- made of chaos is no secret. Everything has to start somewhere, even the magic he has, and while he likes to believe the things he and his family are capable of come from something other than a demon, he still knows they come from something old. Something long forgotten by most people.

So it's not the answer he expects at all and he looks over at her, a faint smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

"You're just aware of it," he says, then shakes his head, because it doesn't sound right. "I mean... it's there. For all of us. Most witches just don't think of where it comes from, but you know." He can feel it when his powers try to get the better of him, the crackle of energy in his fingers, the way it jumps toward Spencer when he's near. It's bigger than he'll ever be, bigger and older, and Joel is comfortable with that. He wonders how many witches are.