Like Xykon was going to waste time protecting Redcloak? Hell, the spell doesn't even bother him -- the ice slams into him and utterly fails to harm his skeletal body in the slightest. Undead racial traits, you know.

"Hey!" he sputtered, as he picked himself up out of a pile of rubble. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to find a stonemason that'll work for a lich and and a goblin army? Not that I do, but hey, principle of the thing. Lightning Bolt!"

Heedless of collateral damage, the lich discharges a blast of electricity at the girl.