Carnival Row (2019–…): Season 1, Episode 4 - The Joining of Unlike Things - full transcript

Please, sir,
can I go to the loo?

Jacob. Again?

Straight over to the loo, then
right back to bed. Not a sound.

Yes. Thank you, sir.

Oh, please!

- Master Thorne.
- Rycroft.

Good to see you, sir.

Would that it were
on a happier day.

That's a hoof print.

This one looks more like a Trow.

Doesn't make any sense.



- Take a look over there.
- Okay.

Well done nicking this,

right out from under
their fucking noses.

I didn't think
you had it in you.

Oh. Well, that is far from
the whole of what I have in me.

Oh, don't get ahead of yourself.

You'll start out on deliveries
and work your way up,

just like everyone else.

You'll be shadowing Oona.

- She'll show you the ropes.
- Good to meet you.

But... if you need anything,
anything at all,

you just let me know.

I will, thank you.

- He seems like
a nice enough lad.
- Yeah.



Be careful of that one.

Why?

He's looking to fuck you.

What?

No.

How can you tell?

He told me so.

Oh.

Brothers and sisters,

I had expected to be the bearer
of good news this morning.

A shipment of lixir
from the jungles of Mag Mor.

But it would seem
it has been confiscated

by the constabulary.

We have a cricket in our midst.

Someone's been chirping.

I realize our work is a far cry
from the lives we left behind.

We are not accustomed
to the shadows.

We were not born outlaws.

We have chosen
to live outside the law,

because the law
of this city is not ours.

It does not protect us.

Not even you,

my little cricket.

Whatever they've told you,

it was a lie.

They will use you to crush
your brothers and sisters,

and then they will crush you.

You have two choices.

Show me you wish
to be made clean.

Step forward, here and now,
and I swear,

my hand to the heart
of Saint Titania,

no harm will come to you.

Or you can hide,

force me to hunt you down,

and I will see you torn
from the sky

and fed to the eels,

like garbage.

What will it be?

So be it.

May the gods have mercy on you,
little cricket.

I will not.

And what are your plans
for the day, brother?

I'm meeting my solicitor
at the office

to discuss which bank
to approach for a loan.

I see.

I'm not at all sure how to take
your lack of objection.

What do I know
about such matters?

Hardly comes under
"what to wear"

or "who's been seen with whom."

That was very unkind of me,

and I'm sorry to have said it.

You're sulking.

Don't think I don't see.

All I know is your brother
wouldn't think much of you

inviting a gussied-up Puck
over for tea.

I'll boil your horns
if Ezra finds out about this.

Then why risk it?

Because I have no choice.

He would lose the roof
over our heads,

yet I am incompetent.

My brother is a dear soul,

but he lacks
our father's mettle.

This wouldn't be the first time

he's been taken advantage of
in business.

But it is the last time
I pretend to look away.

Take this across to the Puck.

- What is it?
- A note

explaining that we're
in the middle of sprucing

and to please come round
to the servants' entrance.

What would the neighbors think

if they saw a Puck walking in
through our front door?

Then why have him here
in the first place?

Because he's positively
desperate for acceptance

into polite society.

Imagine his gratitude
at being invited to the home

of one of the most prominent
families in the Burgue.

Who knows what dividends
that gratitude might yield?

You'd ask him for monies
over harken cake?

Certainly not.

But I might just...
see my way round

to making passing mention

to my brother's many
canny business ventures.

It may be that,
in his eagerness to please,

he'll rise to the bait.

Better Ezra take money

from a gullible Puck than
those vultures on State Street.

The boys are telling me
you got a good look

at the bloke that did this.

Whatever it was,
it wasn't a bloke.

Trow?

Bigger than a Trow.

Not bloody likely.

A bloke or a Trow

or a fucking Kobold,

why kill
an old orphan-meister anyway?

Why kill a Pix entertainer?

What's some dead whore
got to do with this?

She wasn't a whore.

Dr. Morange?

Severe contusions.

Multiple lacerations.

Cause of death
was excessive exsanguination.

Just like the fae singer.

Who did the post on a dead Pix?

Friend of mine did me a favor.

Critch friend, was it?

A Puck,
if it makes a difference.

The... killer

seemed preoccupied with this.

The victim's liver.

Can't make head or tail
of the incisions on it though.

The liver? Are you sure?

My patients may be deceased,
Inspector,

but I can assure you
I can discern the difference

between a liver
and other vital organs.

Why would the killer extract
someone's liver?

To kill them.

Just guessing.

Inspector. You're late.

You knew I was coming?

The ways of the Fane
can open a window to the future

for those whose faith is true.

That, and scuttle has it
you tried to put a bullet

in some kind of "creature"
last night.

How did folks put it?

"Neither man nor fae"?

Believe me now?

Both the victims had
their livers removed. Why?

For what purpose?

I'm a holy woman.

These are unholy matters.

I'm afraid I can only speculate

as to the reasoning
of such evil.

Go ahead, speculate.

Maybe the liver
is a prize of sorts.

Its dark reward, perhaps.

Why do I feel like you know more
than you're letting on?

Because I do.

But I've already told you
as much as you will believe.

Try me.

There's a story
in our oldest traditions

of a beast called a Darkasher.

Darkasher.

A golem of flesh, fashioned
from the limbs of the dead

and given new life, new purpose.

What are you saying?

Some motley patchwork of corpses
has been raised from the dead?

As Saint Titania herself said,

there is a strange power
in the joining of unlike things.

You still don't believe me.

Sounds very far-fetched.

How many more bodies will drop

before it sounds anything else?

I'm a rational man, Mima.

I need to see such things
for myself.

I don't traffic
in the dark arts.

You want proof,

there's a haruspex
with a shop off Vectis Square.

- Hmm.
- You might see her about it.

I might.

Be careful, Inspector.

Skepticism might keep you sane,

but it won't necessarily
keep you alive.

Good afternoon.

I'm sorry that you had
to come through the back,

but Miss Imogen is repainting
the entrance foyer.

I'm sure you understand.

Completely.

Horrid weather we're having.

With any luck,
it'll clear by Wrensday.

Mm.

You're from New Freehold,
I'm told.

It was my former city
of residence, yes.

But, of course,
I'm not from there.

No, of course.

My kin mined coal in Puyan
for generations.

And then the war broke out,
and the Pact

started conscripting
every able body they could.

I was quick to ascertain
that the life

of a Puck meant very little
to two warring armies of men

and thus found my way
to New Freehold.

Where you evidently prospered.

It's a festering sore
of a place, to be certain.

But I found
opportunity there, yes.

Do you have any sugar?

Yes.

Thank you.

I trust Finistere Crossing
has lived up to your hopes?

Oh, its finery knows no peer.

My only disappointment, though,

is that I'm yet
to meet its residents.

They're a bit bashful,
you understand.

You're a rarity here.

Some might say an impossibility.

They'll find their way,
I'm certain of it.

Well, thank you
for being the first.

It's most kind
and most appreciated.

Oh, we're actually quite
progressive, we Spurnroses.

My father was first
in the Crossing

to bring on a Faun cook.

But it's one thing
to employ a Puck,

and quite another
to have one over for tea.

- Yet here you are!
- The one thing that I...

keep coming back to...

in my mind...

is why?

Why?

I must confess, when I
first received your invitation,

it left me wondering,
why would this young lady

extend herself so?

And what
would her neighbors think

of her receiving a Puck
in her home?

Like I said, we're progressive.

I could give a toss
what the neighbors think.

- Really?
- Mm.

Then why have me
come around back...

through the servants' entrance?

Well, you saw for yourself
the parlor...

Oh, come now, woman!
We both know

this was a ruse,
and a shoddy one at that.

I can think of only one reason
you would invite me here.

And what would that be?

Sport.

- Sport?
- You wish to regale your friends

in the smart set of tales

of the ridiculous Puck
who came to call.

Well, go on, then.

I take three sugars in my tea,

and I don't give a shite
who knows about it.

I would thank you
not to use such language.

Well, perhaps I should leave.

Perhaps so.

Mark me, Miss Imogen, mark me.

The day will come
that your bashful neighbors

will fight to shake my hand.

We have watchful eyes
on Longerbane

and his every known associate.

Very good, Winetrout.

Keep us informed.

I dreamt of him last night.

That summer by the sea.
Do you remember?

What if sleep is the only place

I'll hold my son again?

Oh. Shh, shh, shh, shh.

You must stay strong.

I have this in hand.

We know Longerbane has Jonah.
Why not arrest him now?

Arrest him now,
and he'd deny everything.

We'd never see the boy again.

Understand, Longerbane's not
doing this merely to grieve us.

He's after
the chancellorship as well.

How so?

Tell me.

When the ransom demand comes,
it won't be for gold.

It will exact that I step down

in exchange
for Jonah's safe return.

He can't very well admit

to having been behind
the kidnapping, now, can he?

Which means he'll
surely implicate someone else.

- Mm-hmm.
- A group of disgruntled
Critch, perhaps.

They're his favorite hobbyhorse,
after all.

Yeah. He's a wily little devil,
I'll give him that.

But we are onto him.

- Yeah.
- Hmm?

Today, when we sit
in Parliament,

he'll get nothing from me.

No inkling that
we have discovered him.

The majority seem determined

to let these Critch remake
the face of our city.

By the Martyr, soon enough

there'll be more of them
than there are of us!

- Where does it end?
- Where does it end?

Well, it wouldn't
surprise me in the least

if before long
Breakspear starts saying

that the Critch
should be allowed to vote.

Never! Never! Never!

Maybe that's his secret plan
for staying in power.

Yield the floor!
We've heard enough!

The Critch are like a tide

that will swamp

- and drown our city.
- Yes!

Make no mistake,
they will destroy us

from without and within.

Selling lixir
to men without hope.

Selling coitus
to the weakest among us.

You push me too far, Longerbane.

Yield the floor!

Yield the floor!

If you have the votes
to silence me,

conjure them now.

Conjure my son!

Your son?

What the devil are you
talking about, Breakspear?

You know full well.

What have I done?

Why couldn't I hold my tongue?

Longerbane will
never give Jonah up now.

It would be tantamount
to a full confession.

And I...

I dragged it out into the open
like a damn fool!

You're my advisor, Winetrout.

Advise me!

Forgive me, sir, I...

I can't.

- Arrest him!
- Arrest Longerbane

without proof?

What choice do you have,
airing it as you've done?

His coalition will appeal
the arrest to the High Court.

- We'd not keep him for long.
- Long enough to pry

the location of our son
from his lips

by whatever means required.

Once you've wrung Jonah
from him,

his guilt will be plain
for all to see.

Yes.

Yes.

Have the viper brought in.

I'm sorry.

Forgive me.

- You said I was lost.
- You are.

I know.

I have been.

I'm trapped
between two worlds, Vignette.

For a while I thought
I could choose a third.

A life with you.

But that was selfish.

Loving you meant letting you go.

So do it.

Thanks very much.

The inspector.

How could I help you?

What's this?

You want me to make
a nice stew, is that it?

I want you to make me
a Darkasher.

Take it you've laid eyes
on the beast yourself?

I saw something.

But I won't believe
it was raised from the dead

till I see for myself

if such a feat is even possible.

Ha.

And you would have me join
these two lifeless creatures

so they breathe as one?

Not so easy what you ask.

It's all Critch bollocks,
then, isn't it?

Ah, can't an old haruspex
haggle anymore?

I'll pay you what you ask.

Can you do it or not?

A Darkasher
must have its master.

It'll be bound to you

to your last breath.

Seems a long time
to have a bloody... mole fish.

Bound to me how?

From the life
that you must give.

- What are you saying?
- I only require

what would be your part
in any creation, Inspector.

You can't mean...

Your seed.

I have what I need.

Come back in a couple of days.

Matters such as these
can't be rushed.

If any of this is charlatanry,

you old witch,

there'll be hell to pay.

It doesn't take a genius.

Couriers leave packages
around town

in places marked with chalk.

Chalk tells you where
to take them. Simple as that.

What's in the packages?

Lixir. Contraband.

Best not to ask.

Look, they'll start you off
on a day route.

Swap it out
as quick as you can, though.

- Nights go faster.
- Why?

You can fly
without being spotted.

Daylighters have to leg it.

What happens
if you're spotted flying?

Well, they won't shoot you down,

but they'll order
your wings clipped

if they catch up with you.

What do you need, Bol?

Just the new one.

Dahlia wants her.

Oh, God.

Please, please.

What was the first rule
I gave you?

I didn't talk to the police.

Well, that's just patently
untrue, isn't it, Bolero?

I saw you and the inspector,
the handsome one,

on the Row, right out
in the open, plain as day.

He's nobody.

We used to fuck.

Fucking them isn't better
than talking to them, lass.

That was during the war.
He wasn't a copper back then.

Well, he's a copper now,
isn't he?

So, what did you talk about?

Nothing.

- Just our own stupid shit.
- Your own stupid shit?

- Are you in love
with this legger?
- No.

I fucking hate the bastard,
trust me.

Well, give us his address, then.

We'll sew it up for you,
won't we?

- I don't know it.
- All right, fuck this.

- Hold her steady.
- No, please!

- I'm... I'm not the informant!
- No.

- You're a fucking liability.
- No, please.

I'm an asset.

I can...
I can help you find the cricket.

Where are you gonna look?
Under Johnny Burgue's bollocks?

What do you care
how I fucking find him?

By midnight, you better be
standing in front of me

with a name on your lips

or halfway back to Tirnanoc.

I never should have sent you
to those shits.

It's not your fault.

I should've just gotten you
a job here.

No. No, you were right.
I wouldn't have felt free here.

You'd be alive, at least.

I'm not dead yet.

I just need to find
that informant.

What? Before tonight?

- You're not serious, are you?
- What other choice do I have?

Well, how about getting the fuck
out of town, for a start?

No, I'm done running.

And just how in Lunasa's hell
are you gonna find

whoever it is that's talking?

I'm working on it.

Vignette, these Black Raven...

Don't scare me.

I've survived worse.
A lot worse.

You're not invincible.

There's a lot of hurt
you're not dealing with.

Don't let it
make you do anything stupid.

Please.

If not for your own good,

then for mine, because
I will never forgive myself

if this Black Raven shit
gets you killed.

I saw your alma mater
started admitting women.

Farce in the making, no doubt.

How else is a lady
to occupy herself?

You had already led
two polar expeditions by my age.

Yes.

Hideous ordeal.

Perhaps I'll attend
in the autumn.

After a sabbatical.

Touring the Beornlands.

Or down south
to the Pharaonic Coast.

A summer sailing
amidst the sunken tombs

of my ancestors.

Your ancestors.

Your mother was born
in the embassy up the street.

She couldn't so much as spell
her own name in Pharaonic.

Well, God forbid

a lady should want to know
much more than that.

That she should want to see
anything at all

of the world outside her house.

Come now, Sophie.

Your house is a bloody castle.

Are there not enough books
in your library now?

Evidently not, considering
I have read them all.

Twice.

Then read them slower next time.

Because your ancestors' tombs
will turn to dust

before I let you prance off
into the bush.

Much less college.

I wasn't asking your permission.

Then go and see how far
you can get without it.

Hey, you can't just barge
into a proctor's home.

Proctor Longerbane,
the chancellor wants to see you.

I don't care
what he bloody wants!

Get your hands off me.
Don't you know who I am?

It's outrageous!

Done it this time, Breakspear.

Using the chancellery guard
as your own personal thugs.

I'll have your robes for this.

Where's my son?

Bastard!

You're insane.

As would you be if someone stole
your precious trophy from you.

Where's Jonah?!

I don't know what
you're talking about.

Absalom, enough!

He can't tell us anything
if he's beaten senseless.

I simply have no idea what
either of you are talking about.

Take him away.

We shall devise some way
to jog his memory.

I checked around like you asked.

Learned a thing or two.

- Such as?
- Apparently, the brother

is casting around desperately
for a loan.

So it wasn't for sport.

Sir?

Nothing. Well done, Fergus.

Always knew
I could count on you.

Can't help feel sorry for 'em.

Poor girl's in for it,
spoiled or not.

Yes, I'd imagine so.

Ritter.

Ritter?

Something for the pain.

Piety.

Thank the Martyr you've come.

I implored Absalom
to let me plead with you

as Jonah's mother.

Don't waste your breath.

I've no idea where the boy is.

It's rare
to witness such bravery

in the face of such wrath.

My husband has his hands full.

It's not bravery.

It's that I've nothing
to give up.

Yes, but he doesn't know that.

You...

Say again?

You're holding him where?

What?

The Copley Baths?

Oh!

What is it?

Did the demon speak?

I fear you were too hard on him.

His body failed, and he...

he passed before my eyes.

Martyr be praised

you let me plead with him.

He confessed?

The old Copley Baths.

That's where he's holding Jonah.

Oh!

This is crap, is what this is!

I wasn't doing a bloody thing!

Well, then, you got nothing
to worry about, do you?

Wait here, you shite.

Hamlyn.

Are you trying to get me killed,
Inspector?

Dahlia's on a tear

after your pal Dombey
broke up the lixir shipment.

Dombey's not my pal,

and your troubles
are not my concern.

What is is we have a killer
on the loose.

Well, it's not me,
and it's not the Raven.

The only people they kill
are the ones who cross them.

Like, say, getting caught
ratting out to the cops.

I'm pursuing
an unorthodox angle.

Some...
beast made of dead things...

Puck, Trow and the like...

Might've been responsible.

You're fucking crazy.

I'm waiting on evidence.

But in the meantime,
I got to thinking,

who could procure
a bunch of dead corpses?

Coroner.

Maybe you should have a chat
with your friend Dr. Morange.

I'm having a chat with you.

Morange doesn't concern himself
with dead fae.

Neither does the Raven.

But... I've heard tell
of one of us.

Wren.

She might've gotten
some side work digging up

the kind of things
you're talking about.

- For who?
- Don't remember.

Didn't make much
of an impression on me.

Had kind of a religious name,
I think.

I'll need to talk to this Wren.

Then you'll need
to dig her up, too.

Dahlia tossed Wren off a roof
two nights ago.

Said it was because she didn't
trust her anymore, but ask me,

I think it was over
this side action of hers.

So...

can I get out of here now?

In a couple of hours.

We wouldn't want Dahlia
suspecting anything now,

would we?

You're not supposed
to be back here, Tourmaline.

And you're supposed
to be anywhere, are you?

As I recall, you're the one
who told me to leave her behind.

I never told you
to fake your own death.

I thought
you broke it off clean.

It wasn't that easy,

- and I apologized.
- No, I know.

But one of her new Black Raven
friends saw you two together.

I'm sure you can
imagine how that went over,

her talking to a copper.

- How is she?
- They think she's the one

who's been sharing information
with you lot.

She thinks she can wriggle
her way out of it, as always.

Me?

I think you got her
into this mess,

and you can get her out.

I told her not to join
the Ravens.

Well, she did.

And now I need you to tell me
who is on the take.

Fuck.

It's him or her, Philo.

These Ravens,
they don't fuck about.

Edgal Hamlyn.

Inspector. They found him.

- Who?
- The Breakspear boy.

He's being held
at the Copley Baths.

Don't know how many kidnappers.

Captain wants all hands
on this one.

- Sweep the place!
- Right away, sir!

Whoever's helping Longerbane
might be hiding.

It's okay. You're safe.

- Well?
- They're gone, sir.

Eh, these cunts
will be long gone by now.

Fuck it.

Are you all right, boy?

Did he hurt you?

I knew you'd bring me home.

I would have leveled heaven
itself.

But, in truth,

we've your mother to thank.

It was she who implored me

to consult with her Haruspex.

Jonah.

Thank the Martyr you're safe.

I'd have a word
with your mistress.

She is otherwise disposed,
I'm afraid.

Is that you, Ezra?

What do you want?

I came to apologize,

for my behavior today.

Apology accepted.
Thank you.

What's the matter?

Are they staring?

Wondering what a Puck is doing
at your front door.

Imagine how they'll stare
when you and your brother

are forced to sell this house.

What do you know of our affairs?

Only what your neighbors'
servants are saying

about the trouble your brother's
gotten himself into.

I am sorry.

One can only guess
at your desperation.

It is.

It is desperation.

You are right to call it so.

My brother and I,

we find ourselves drowning

and were never taught to swim.

This is honesty.

My invitation to tea
was not for sport.

I meant to test the waters
of your generosity.

I sensed

that you lack a proper
invitation to society here.

And you smelled a bargain
to be made.

I am sorry, Mr. Agreus.

It was foolish of me.
I see that now.

Was it?

Please don't toy with me.

Far from it.

I see no reason why we
can't come to an accommodation.

The first step, of course...

you have to let me
through your front door.

Hamlyn.

He knew about the shipment.

That copper of yours
gave you this?

You really must have him wrapped
around your little finger.

Only one thing left to do then.

You want me to do it?

How easy it would be to give me
a name and walk away clean.

No, you need to prove
you believe it.

I'm not a killer.

All those years
in the occupation.

A tough lass like you never left
a single body in her wake?

Not one?

Never my own kind.

What did I tell you?

He who picks the groundlings
belongs to the ground.

Put him in it.

And bring me
the cocksucker's wing.

Oona said you wanted to see me.

I did.

What is it?

I'm very busy tonight.

I've heard something about you,

and I want to know if it's true.

Oh.

What did you hear?

That you've been telling folks
that you mean to fuck me.

These faerishyn say
all kinds of things.

So you wouldn't then?

Wouldn't what?

Fuck me.

Mm, no, I didn't say that.

Close your eyes.

Why?

Because I told you to.

Mm, I'm sure there's a more
comfortable place we can go.

No.

I don't want this
to get too comfortable.

You tender-wings
all come off the boat the same...

Thinking you survived
because you're strong.

But you're just lucky.

You really think you're the
first faerishyn to come for me?

Huh?

No.

I will outlive you, lady's maid.

And you will spend
your last breath wishing

you'd just followed through

and sucked me off.

Because now
you really got me worked up.

And I'm keen to see

just how slowly
I can cut off your pretty head.

Too slow.

Are you okay?

Vignette.

We have to go.

How did you find me?

Tourmaline.

Oh, God.

Help me with the body.

Where's it lead?

To the river, then out to sea.

What if he turns up?

They'll find a constabulary
bullet in him and let it go,

I suppose.

Is that how it works
around here?

The Burgue

is an ugly place.

It's the home you chose.

It wasn't right,
the way I left you.

I kept trying
to tell myself it was.

At the end of the day,

a man's no better than the pain
he's caused the people he loves

and what he's willing to do
to set it right.

I should never have taken it
from you.

I'm sorry.

I'll be honest...

I didn't know which one of you
would come back.

Me neither.

Quick and painless?

No.

Good.

What's this?

A promotion.

Hamlyn ran the lots.

Now you do.

I'm giving you
the Finistere route.

Off you go.

Oh.

Be careful
with that copper of yours.

Or, next time,
it'll be your wing on the table.

You don't have to worry
about him.

You got my note.

And came anyway.

Portia,

I do care about you.

More than I've shown.

You deserve better.

What brings this on, Philo?

I've decided to choose a world.

What's that supposed to mean?

It occurred to me

I've never taken you out.

Can't think of the last time
someone served me dinner.

Can't think of anyone
who deserves it more.

This is nice.

Thank you for bringing me.

It was me.

Sorry?

That girl you asked me about
the other day.

It was me who hurt her.

Sometimes that's harder
to live with

than the other way around.

Have you been here all night?

You okay?

Vignette...

It's okay, it's okay.

Okay. All right.

You're okay.