"The origins of magic." Themis found herself mirroring the movement, her hand resting at the center of her body. Her hand rested on fabric, but her mind settled on a prominent scar on Samuel's torso, where all his scars seemed to meet and originate. She knew the rune resting there seemed to pulse with life, that it was one of the strongest areas of magic on his body, at least as she had labeled them. Of course she had labeled them, categorized every tiny detail she knew of Samuel into an order she could manage. She knew the night in her tower when he first held her hand to this vulnerable place that her own magic responded differently there. Just days ago, when her new scar had made contact with it, she feared the collision of magic would ignite them both. Was that what happened to her? Had they changed magic moved in her somehow? Had she just woken up to knowing how it felt? The thin theory went nowhere fast enough.

Thinking of her body as a close system satisfied the scientist in her, but hearing Professor Crowley so crudely describe what she'd done, however accurate, felt like nails on blackboards. She stilled when the woman smiled, the gesture only making her next words more ominous. "A sacrifice to what, Professor Crowley?" Themis felt her spine stiffen, her body sensing something it disliked in the woman's deathly silence. Themis was ready to push the younger witch until she spoke again.

She felt the weight of the woman's words, felt the dread creeping up her spine, but as soon as the witch mentioned her greatest danger, Themis felt her face flush. She very much doubted Miss Crowley intended for Themis' mind to happily run through all the times she'd allowed a certain alchemist to do more than enter her. The idea, and her sullied brain, were ridiculous. Breathing through her nose to avoid laughing - at herself, at the situation, at the world, take your pick - Themis composed herself. Maybe humor was her way of pushing back the little edge of panic that was now assembling a list of questions. She considered her host carefully for a moment, having already weighed the possibility of this action before deciding on coming here. There was some risk to showing her hand (literally), but the possible reward seemed worth it. Unbuttoning the cuff of her dress, determined to ignore just how vulnerable a gesture it seemed now, Themis exposed her wrist and her scar. "I won't be afraid of what I don't understand. Now, what do you mean by sacrifice?"

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