''What is it, FaeLina?' I projected back, a cold feeling starting to grow in my own core. 'What does it say?'
She didn't answer. She just hovered there, her face was pale and she was staring at the golden, glowing letters on the bulletin board.
The confident energy that had filled the room moments before evaporated, replaced by a cold, creeping dread. Pip, who had been proudly fussing with Clank's "GO TEAM NAP!" banner, now just nervously twisting a button on his tunic. Gilda's hand, which had been resting loosely on her axe, now gripped it so tightly, her knuckles went pale. Zazu, who had been deep in meditation, let out a slow, troubled breath, his own peace disturbed by the sudden tension.
