It didn't take Jace much time to get Catherine's letter.
He watched the octopus throw the envelope onto the table and fade away into the spirit world.
He picked it up and opened it.
Unlike his letter, which was slightly informal and outright cheeky, Catherine's reply was brief and proper.
She mentioned that it would take around a week or so to get the Mist Treant root, among other things.
He burned the letter with his spirituality, watching the blue flames consume the paper until only ash remained.
After a deep sigh, he got up and slumped onto his bed.
It was still late morning, but he couldn't go out as a Clown since the police department was looking for him.
He could go out as a normal guy, but Jace was in no mood.
As for how he was acting these days? Well, he would go out at midnight and find some cops strolling around; he would sneak around them, laughing and scaring the shit out of them.
He also ran into some cops that were sleeping, so he would knock them out in their sleep and color their faces like that of a clown.
Thankfully, he hadn't run into any Official Beyonders.
He always used divinations to avoid them, and since he only killed wanted men, they weren't that adamant about catching him.
Jace never left any physical or mystic evidence that could be tracked, and he never walked on the ground—only jumped around on the rooftops—so that helped as well.
After much investigation, he had found the main operations base of the drug dealers, but he had not struck there yet.
He was waiting for the right opportunity.
He also noticed that the police never ventured there to patrol, which led him to believe that some government official was in on it.
He sighed again.
It had been almost a month since he had come here, and his potion was about 70–80 percent digested.
A few more times of clowning around and his final act of killing the drug dealers should be enough, he thought.
He also noticed that during these last two weeks, the potion digestion speed had increased a bit.
He credited it to his depression; even while being sad and lonely, he acted all happy and playful—that was the reason for it.
He got up from the bed and decided it was time to see what was happening out there, not as a clown but as a normal guy.
Putting on a clean white shirt and a brown blazer, he stepped out of the shabby apartment and into the daylight.
--
After walking around a bit, he found that everything was the same as it had been.
The streets were still dirty and stinky, with the thick East Borough soot clinging to the walls of every building.
The people, as usual, seemed haggard and overworked; they didn't seem to care much about the police hanging around or the "Murderous Clown."
This was obvious, since they didn't have the luxury to worry about such things—they had enough to worry about as it was.
He continued walking around until he reached a significantly better place: Iron Gate Street, where the Braveheart Bar was located.
Jace had come here to have a drink. Yes, to drink alcohol.
He had drank for the first time two weeks ago to drown his sorrows, and boy, did he not like it.
It tasted bad and the hangover was a killer.
The only sensation he liked about it was that after drinking, he felt warm and fuzzy, but he later realized that he was one of those people who didn't actually get drunk.
His body would get wobbly, but he still had more than better control over it due to being a Clown.
His mind would slow down, and he would have an easier time sleeping, but that was it.
The people who would get lost in their emotions? No, he was not one of them; even when his mind was slowed, he was still in control of his emotions.
Throwing his thoughts away, he sat on a stool at the bar and ordered a whisky.
The air in the bar was thick with the smell of cheap tobacco and spilled ale.
Thankfully, they weren't exactly strict about the legal drinking age, which Jace was likely not of. In two months or so, he would turn seventeen.
Looking around, he wondered when Sharron the Wraith and Maric the Zombie would come to Backlund.
They would come to Backlund after escaping the Rose School of Thought.
The current time was about four years before the plot of LOTM, so his best guess was that they would be here in two or perhaps three years.
After having his drink, he paid and left, walking the streets.
For now, he would just go back and sleep.
According to his astrological divinations, the better time to attack the drug operation headquarters would be after a week.
So, in about two weeks, his work here would be done. If all goes well, he should be able to advance to Sequence 7 before leaving for Cherwood.
The thought of advancement excited Jace.