Raman looked at Emilie for a moment before saying bluntly, "We have never heard of you. Excuse us, but we must be on our way."

He was about to pass her when she leapt to her feet, her pale pink gown swirling around her legs. "Oh, but no!" She cried, holding out her hands as if to keep them back. "You can not pass! This is my grove, and I am inviting you to stay for supper."

Emilie gestured to a cookpot and fire that Raman could have sworn had not been there a moment ago.

"A sip of soup, a bite of bread!" The girl caroled gaily, clapping her hands together delightedly at the thought. "Then you will be in better spirits, and much more willing to have your fortunes told? But of course you will be!"

Raman turned to face Dawn. "This is your quest," he spoke to her quietly so that Emilie could not easily overhear. "If we delay here just to oblige her, we will lose even more time."