The abandoned barn in the quiet Angland countryside smelled of hay and dust. Inside, a middle-aged man patted his sweat-beaded forehead with a silk handkerchief. Sir Thomas Legend placed a gold and lead artifact on the owliksir’s work table next to some vials of silver liquid and got straight down to business.

“How do I live forever?” Thomas asked as he looked up to the rafters. There in the shadows, he could see large, unblinking orange eyes, staring down at him.

“You’re late,” said the owliksir. The creature spread its tawny-freckled wings, and after a few silent flaps, the magical hybrid landed on the table.