But she had lost the Amulet of Orynth. It had fallen into that river and—no. No. It couldn’t have, because she wouldn’t have made it to the riverbank, let alone survived the hours she lay here. The cold would have claimed her. Which meant she’d had it when … when … Arobynn Hamel had taken it from her and kept it all these years, a prize whose power he had never guessed the depth of.
