Arlo's eyes widen, his face a mask of shock. For a long, silent moment, he just stares at Lucas, his lips parted slightly as if he's about to speak but can't find the words.
Then, a strange, slow smile spreads across his face. It's not a smile of amusement or disbelief. It's a smile of resignation, of a man who has been found out and has decided there's no point in denying it any longer.
"You're a clever one, aren't you?" He says, his voice a low, dry whisper. "I should have known better than to try and bluff a bluff."
He leans back in his chair, his hands resting on the arms, his fingers tapping a nervous rhythm on the worn wood. "You're right. Of course you're right. The news travels fast, even to this remote corner of the world. The Angel's Tear is gone. The one who wielded it is defeated. And a small group of unlikely heroes are credited with the deed."
