"You have to show me how that works," she says, a little breathless and a lot impressed by the display of magic. They're decidedly not from the same world, or universe, or whatever way of wording it there is that could make her sound sane, but the magic is familiar. In unfamiliar ways. It's magic, but not hers.

She wants to know what makes a warlock a warlock. Another time.

Here, she'll find herself a barrel that's secured to the wall and sit down against it. "Ten," she starts, mischief at the corners of her eyes, "nine, eight..."