“I can’t make it any plainer,” he squeaked, and somehow the cartoon voice made him seem more dangerous. “We got one Opal, you got the other. You let your Opal go, and we don’t kill this one. You had twenty minutes; now you have fifteen.”
Pip the kitty-cat cocked his weapon.
Butler tapped Holly’s shoulder.
“Did he just say–?”
“Yeah. Fifteen minutes, or Opal’s dead.”
Butler popped a translator bud into his ear. This was too important to trust to his dubious grasp of Gnommish.

The Last Guardian, Chapter 1