‘Just getting started, yet,’ came the answer, with another blush. ‘My agent says I have potential — ah, my name’s Cellann, by the way, Cellann of Indra-Tath, I’m with the Anna Sant Agency—’
Cellann of Indra-Tath rambled on, clearly hoping to impress Fi with her credentials. I let my attention wander. More people were coming in at the door, a few I vaguely recognised: a half banshee brunette who was somebody in television; a tall, moody-looking sluagh I’d bumped into backstage once or twice. The rest were unfamiliar, as yet, and so far nobody showed any signs of wanting to approach Cellann’s table.
Fionn was excusing herself. Apparently she was tired of the chatter, as was I; I toasted Cellann with the dregs of my love potion and followed Fi, though we did not return to our table.
‘Perim
