The Yellow Castle was their destination, the historical seat of any Pendragon children who attended the Academy.
It made for a rather long walk, made to feel shorter by Oliver's mounting dread. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt dread like that. It made his heart pound and his legs feel weak. Not at all the poise of a man who had just cheated death the night before. He made the greatest of efforts to keep his face straight, as Jorah and Verdant walked behind him, making idle conversation.
His efforts in that regard must have been a success, for neither of them seemed to sense that anything was off. Jorah lightly commented on his own nervousness, and Verdant gave tips for dealing with it, and feigning confidence. Oliver gave more than an ear as he listened in on them.
"Even if I try to keep a straight face, I think a quivering lip of the like will give me away…" Jorah murmured. "It isn't so easy to fake."
