Original subtitles

Previously on "The Magicians"...

You may address me as Reynard the Fox,

trickster of the faithful, the very stupid.

[grunting]

You must be Marina.

I need you to tell me about the thing that killed you.

There was a girl.

40 years ago, she vanished Reynard from Earth.

Charlie, my brother, he was really, really good.

You know that spell I did on the first day of class

with the glass horse? He taught me that.

I fell for this professor. He was married.

I thought I could make him love me again

if I could make myself prettier.

I really believed he might actually be able

to undo what I did.

It burned until he wasn't there anymore.

I gave up magic and never looked back.

[yelping]

[screaming]

No!

Alice is gone.

There's a creature,

she's called the White Lady.

I want my hands back.

No!

Alice Quinn. Bring her back to life.

I can't.

Is there nothing else you desire?

Send me home.

I spoke with Professor Lipson

about the tests she ran.

But I'm sorry to say that

we don't even know where to start.

Okay, is this a normal candle or what--

Of course.

You cure your own hands just fine, but mine,

you can't do a fucking thing about, huh?

Broken or not, my hands are my hands.

Yours are something else.

There's nothing we can do.

And Brakebills continues its tradition

of fucking my shit.

There's nothing we can do here.

There are other options.

One, I send you to someone who may know more.

Yes. Who is it?

Professor Mayakovsky.

The drunk perv in the igloo?

Pass.

What's option two?

Hmm, well, you won't have to worry

about your hands or magic at all.

It's actually where I sent Quentin.

Where's Quentin?

So we finally get to the cashier and guess what.

- Hmm? - I left my wallet in the car.

- Oh, man. - Talk about bad timing.

Yeah.

Hey, does Donut House, does that taste like donuts?

I just use that thing for soup.

Soup?

What the fuck?

[computer chimes]

[eerie music]

Sync & corrections by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com

[wind howling]

[metal clanging, hammering]

Hello?

[clanging, hammering]

Professor Mayakovsky?

[whooshing]

Shh--

Hey! Hey, let me down!

I'm a student!

[clanging, hammering]

Dick.

"Chicago Register." July '76.

You know, dead or not, Marina could have been

a little more specific.

I still don't know what I'm looking for.

Look, banishing Reynard had to take an insane amount of energy.

So any sort of strange event or operation.

Yeah, that's literally the definition of "news."

We'll know it when we see it.

[dramatic music]

♪ ♪

[sighs]

I need some fuel.

[sighs] Okay.

- [gags] - You okay?

[coughing]

Is that the second time today?

Third.

Here.

Oh, God, Jules, I--

- Fuck! - Hey.

- Fuck. - Hey, come on, come on.

- Hey, sit. - Why?

Why won't it just end?

Why does it just keep getting worse and worse?

I'm so sorry.

Whatever's-- what's the spell

to terminate it or whatever?

I mean, there's stuff out there, but it's all shady,

Dark Ages shit from before modern medicine.

You don't cauterize a paper cut

with a crazy, medieval blowtorch.

Sounds like exactly what I wanna do.

Not if it erases your uterus and kidneys

along with the fetus.

Jesus.

Hey, it's--it's okay.

Jules, this is a simple, totally mundane procedure.

Is it? 'Cause it might not be a simple,

totally mundane human embryo.

I mean--

I don't even know if it's Reynard's or Richard's.

Right now, it is just a clump of cells.

Okay, so, let's just put a pin in all this, okay?

We'll make an appointment.

Your Majesty. It's ready.

At the very least, I hope you solved the carbonation issue.

We had to dump that last glass in another world, you know.

Still bubbling.

Oh, the miles we must walk.

My King. I have the best news.

If that rabbit was a prosecco, I'd agree.

This isn't just a rabbit.

- Pregnant. - Jesus.

We're going to be parents.

That rabbit knows if you're--

- Pregnant. - Okay, okay.

- You're not smiling. - I'm sorry.

- It's just--you see-- - Pregnant.

Okay, rabbit! Chill.

Ah, ah! Where do you think you're going?

It may suck all the moisture from my tongue,

but damned if I'm not going to toast to this shit.

To our violently attractive progeny.

[gulps]

Hey, yo! Yo, let me down, okay?

What the fuck is this shit?

What do you want?

My hands can't cast spells anymore.

This is not Mayakovsy's Home for Magically Inert.

But maybe an exchange.

What do you got in mind?

I'm in the middle of project.

Help me, I do what I can.

- I'm in. - Okay.

[fingers snap]

[thud]

Is everybody out here really so lifeless?

Yes. We are, we are. That's why we drink.

Well, I drink just fine as a Magician.

Yeah, because your world was so overwhelming and scary

and you needed a break from it all.

Now you're gonna drink

because each day is so goddamn dull

and that takes a lot more booze.

You ever cast anymore?

God, no.

Sorry, that was stupid.

No, it's okay.

I mean, nobody ever gives up magic

because everything's peachy.

You wanna tell me?

- Uh-- - I'm sorry.

No. I shouldn't have asked.

I can see that it's recent.

It's fucking madness.

Teaching that stuff to kids. I mean...kids.

It's like, what's the point? You know?

'Cause it feels like for every one thing that we fix,

five shitty things spring up in its place.

Because each spell is just another complication.

That we cast another spell to fix.

Repeat, repeat, repeat.

Until there's no spell left and you're just--

- you're left with-- - A big fucking problem.

Oh, shit. I have a meeting in 15.

Ooh.

[light whooshing]

I'm sorry. That was just reflex.

Uh, that--I--um...

Just--just put this on the company card.

They won't notice.

[sighs]

I am happy.

Yay, a baby.

Eliot, what is this about?

I really wanna know.

[sighs] My father was not the best...

Wine, Your Majesty.

Bad dad.

So I suppose I don't exactly have the proper,

uh, uh...

template to--

- Ahh! - [screams]

Quiet!

You are not welcome here, child of Earth.

Eliot!

[groaning]

[grunting]

Wait.

This is not over, child of Earth.

Dungeon.

What the hell was that about?

I tried expressing my emotions.

Lesson learned.

Shittiest security ever.

So what are we supposed to do?

- Ship 'em back to Loria? - Actually, Your Highness,

he's not from Loria.

He's a native Fillorian.

My own people are trying to kill me?

Hmm. So French.

They're commoners. Not to worry.

Oh, whoa, whoa. I'm worried.

I urge a public execution, today.

Might I suggest strangulation?

For the symbolism.

We don't wish to fall to his level.

The Bed of a Thousand Spikes should do just fine.

[whispering indistinctly]

Her Slowness suggests tying each of his limbs to a centaur,

and as they stretch him, inch by inch,

a fifth centaur sets the spike, if you will.

Jesus, no.

Everyone out. This is a matter for the Queen and me.

That sloth is psychotic.

It's all psychotic. [sighs]

Did you hear how Tick said "commoners"?

When we're the least snobby people in a room,

there's something wrong with the room.

[knocking]

Yes?

I wanted to apologize.

I'm sorry, um...

Okay.

What?

I just--I don't know if you accepted my apology.

Yes.

- Okay. - Actually, no.

No, I don't.

We had just talked about how terrible magic is,

and then you went and did it.

It was just a tiny spell.

There are a lot of companies like this.

I'm sure Fogg can find another one for you.

[sighs]

Okay.

[mouse clicking]

They're useless, right?

Well, maybe not useless.

You can still grab hold of things, wave hello,

rub away a lonely night.

Okay, but for magic?

For magic? Useless.

How was your travel?

Fine.

Aim's good. I just can't take people with me.

Some might call that blessing.

Yeah, well the option would be nice, so--

I mean, can you help me? What are we doing here?

I can help you.

But first, your end of deal.

Take out all the knots.

What the hell?

- Ms. Wicker. - Uh, Julia.

The test was positive.

If you'd like, we can discuss your options.

- I want an abortion. - Okay.

That's something that we can perform here in office.

Great. Uh, today?

Unfortunately, we do have a waiting list,

but it should just be a couple of days.

Days?

Doctor, I can't wait a couple of days.

Please, I--

If I suspect abuse, I'm obligated to report it.

Julia, you're safe here.

You can talk about what happened.

- No one is above the law. - [laughs]

Ah, sorry.

I wish that were true.

Look, I just want this to be over,

and you can help me.

Please.

Okay.

We'll set you up for an ultrasound today.

Tomorrow, you can perform the procedure.

We open at 8:00.

- Thank you. - See you then.

[door clicks closed]

Hi.

Leave.

- You don't get to say that. - And why not?

Uh, because you're in our castle.

Which is on my land.

Uh, excuse me, my manners.

I'm Eliot, High King of Fillory.

And I'm Bayler, a proud soldier of Fillorians United.

A FU fighter.

- Did you say, "Foo Fighter"? - Margo, behave