"How do you mean?" Penelope said.
Vol shrugged. "I don't know that much about it, obviously. What did these teachers you had say? They must have said something along similar lines."
"They said that the spell will be dependent on the denseness of the image that I manage to create, but I do not understand a word of that," Penelope said helplessly. "Even as a grown woman now, I still cannot understand those same concepts that escaped me as a child. My father was most certainly right in his predictions of me – he was a Farseer through and through."
"He did not see far enough, Princess," Vale said hotly. She was as passionate on this topic as Vol got. They both despised the sort of man that would sell his family into slavery, no matter the reason. "Here you are, escaped, after all these years. If he had any sense, he would not have allowed it, for fear that one day you could come back, and take his head."
