Lambert has even fewer options than Syrlya has, magic-wise. Being a witcher generally isn't this complicated, because the monsters he deals with usually aren't sentient, or just barely qualify as such.

But his nightrunners? They've been smart, they haven't gotten caught this whole time (as far as he can remember, anyway) and Lambert knows what they can do. And there's one way that not being caught up in the heat of the moment makes some things easier: it gives Lambert room to think.

"Scout," he says, abruptly. It's a bit of a non-sequitur. "She cleared poison from me, once. Some Jedi thing..." Scout probably wouldn't appreciate him dropping that name so casually, but-- "If it's something in our blood, she could help."

Or not. Again, fucking enchantments, man. But there's a distant, lingering sense of urgency. A feeling that they don't have the time to wait out the enchantment wearing off.