“Albert was working on such a potion!” Thomas shouted. “This must be it!”

Thomas lunged wildly across the work table swatting at the owliskir. The creature let out a hiss followed by a screech and leapt off the table, flying up toward the rafters.

Snatching up the vial and raising it to his lips Thomas drank the silver liquid in one massive gulp. He began to laugh, his quest finally complete!

—Then fell to his knees, clutching at his throat.

Thomas looked up, his eyes focused through floating fragments of dust particles, blurring them into snowflakes, and he saw those large unblinking orange eyes staring at him once more.

“You have thirty seconds of life left,” the owliksir purred from the darkness above.