“Excellent!” Sefron wheezed into the night. “The new power within me … it is more than I could ever have hoped for!” Lowering his hand once more, tendrils of black magic began to swirl over his fingertips.

“No!” Bet tossed the open Practical Guide to Evin and faced the wizard, wand held high. “Zeeast sueee usu!”

Shards of ice crystallized in front of the wand’s tip and sliced through the air. They burst through the lich’s robes, soaring right through him before crashing against one of the floating remnants of the wall and exploding. Gasping, the lich turned his attention to Bet.

“My dear apprentice,” he called out in his raspy voice as he began to float across the roof to her. “I had hoped to use your lovely elf blood for my ascension. But perhaps I shall stuff your head and keep it on my mantelpiece instead. It would be a beautiful conversation piece.”

Wand clutched at her side, Bet strode forward. She looked down at Evin out of the corner of her eyes. “If this doesn’t work,” she whispered to him, “look for the phylactery.”

“The what?” Evin asked.

Bet didn’t answer. Instead she stood face to face with her former master. The lich hovered there, as though waiting in anticipation for what she might do.

“Sefron Vudge,” Bet called out in a clear voice. “I command you to follow my orders.”

The lich’s body went stiff, and he lowered all the way to the roof, coming to rest on his feet. His skull-like face now expressionless, the creature walked toward her as though in a trance. Bet watched him, her chest rising and falling with her quick, frightened breaths.

The lich stood before her, silent. “Sefron Vudge,” she said. “I command you to—”

Sefron’s hand shot out, his long sleeve dangling from his skeletal wrist. He grabbed the girl by the throat, choking out her words and making her entire body go stiff.

“You stupid girl,” he wheezed. “You think that I spent all these years planning to become a lich only to give out my true name to everyone I met?” He cackled, then released his grip, letting her fall to the floor.

Evin looked down at A Practical Guide to Monsters, desperately trying to see what Bet had meant for him to do. By the flickering flames of the fire that consumed Sefron’s spilled potion, he read, “‘Best defense: Discover the lich’s true name; destroy its phylactery.’”

That wasn’t enough. Scanning the page, he found a note pasted onto it about the process of becoming a lich. “‘The phylactery may take the form of a box, an amulet, or a ring, depending on the wizard’s style and personality,’” he read. “‘Most common: a sealed metal box containing magical phrases written on strips of parchment.’”