“I m-made a mistake in learning necromancy,” Amanita said again. “I’m trying to turn myself in. And…” She began pawing through her saddlebag. “I’ve got the phylactery of a lich, so I’m t-taking that to civilization so it can be destroyed.” She pulled out a crystal, dangling on the end of a thin chain. It glowed with a soft, cold light, almost imperceptible. It didn’t look anything other than ordinary, but something about the way it felt gave Bitterroot goosebumps, as if it’d been pulled from a wound.