Wednesday smiled. "Drink your drink." He says, gesturing at the slightly frosted glass in front of Crane. "Mead tastes like piss, which is frankly why it took me so long to find a place that actually sells the stuff, but rituals are important." With that, he drains his glass down to the foamy dregs and puts it aside.
"Now, our next move is patience. Believe me, I do this sort of thing for a living, and simply going after them like a second rate axe murderer will either get us killed, or make them scatter, and we'll be back at square one." He says. "So we wait. Any confidence man can approach the mark, but an artist gets the mark to approach him." He says. "So drink your drink, ask me anything your curious about, who I really am, why I'm doing this, whatever, and we'll see what we shall see."