"Oh," Joel says a second later and the blush that blooms across his cheeks is warm and dark. He's embarrassed, but he shifts Dane gently, offering him out to Bach, still flushing deeply. "Sorry." He doesn't know what Bach might think he can read off the baby, not when he's still so small, but any magic he might have is probably several years from developing. Joel has very clear memories of the first time he was aware of his own magic.