The Magicians (2015–…): Season 4, Episode 1 - A Flock of Lost Birds - full transcript

Previously, on "The Magicians"...

- I killed a god.
- The old gods...

When we're harmless,
they ignore us,

but when we become malignant,
they amputate.

- Magic is gone.
- I need to show you something.

Oh, my God.

I have magic.

Do you want your magic back
or not?

I'll send you on an epic quest.

"The Tale
of the Seven Keys."

Jules, this is our quest.



I think I'm leveling up.

- I'm...
- A full-on goddess.

You're here about the fountain.

The backdoor to magic.

Alice, what are you doing?

She's destroying the keys!

I know you thought
this was for everyone's good.

You'll see someday it wasn't.

Julia, you could
lose your power.

Once magic is flowing again,

you have 30 seconds
to attach the siphon.

I hear you have
an experimental potion

that not only wipes your memory,

but creates a whole new persona.



She made a deal with us,
then broke it.

Unlike the others,
she belongs to the Library.

That thing, it can jump bodies.

It's seen them.

It knows magic is back.

It knows they're magicians,
even if they don't.

If they don't know who they are,

if they don't have magic,

they can't protect themselves.

Will you play with me?

I think you've got me...

mistaken for somebody else.

I think anything is more fun

when you do it with a friend.

Feels like
there's never a reason

to last that long.

Um, I will catch you guys
tomorrow, yeah?

Okay.

Shit!

Shit.

My God.

Shit.

Uh, hi.
Um, hello.

Hi.

Kimber D'Antoni?

Uh-huh.

I'm Todd.

You're late.

Follow me.

- Uh, I... I'm sorry.
- Where am I?

Upstate New York.

- Brakebills University.
- Okay, hold on. How...

- Good afternoon.
- Nice to see you.

- How is that possible?
- Pro tip,

in case you remember any of this:

Always be polite to Librarians.

They look harmless,
but they do regulate

the good stuff, you know?

Make them cranky,
all of a sudden,

there's this lag time
when you put in a request.

I mean, New World Order,
definitely better than it was,

but in my humble "O," a little
worse than the old days.

Okay, uh, stop.

- I'm sorry, what's happening?
- Oh.

You've been offered
a preliminary exam

for entry into the graduate program.

Am I hallucinating?

I mean, if I say no,

that could be part of it, right?

But, I mean, no.

Um, really no. Nope.

Okay, yeah.

That definitely
wasn't helpful at all.

- So...
- Sorry.

Come on. We gotta hustle.

Late!

Welcome.

You may address me as Dean.

I know you all have questions.

They will be answered in time.

For the next hour,

your task is to complete
your test.

Best of luck to you all.

Begin.

You know, this would go faster

if we could just do them
all in one batch,

like we used to.

You know we don't have
that kind of supply.

- Yeah.
- I'm just saying.

I mean, how many extra hours
of our time is this taking,

when the Library
could just give it to us?

Come on.
You know you're thinking it.

Well, looks like
the weird one's a dud.

Is the one you said...

Shorted out the globe?

Yeah.

Never seen that before.

It was late in the day, no?

Supply runs low.

Could be that.

True.

I'll pull her and wipe her

as soon as she's done
the written portion.

Ah, damn it.

What was that?

- I'm not quite sure.
- Let me see...

I'd advise against it.

I didn't see anything.

I've got a splitting headache.

Okay.

I'll take your word for it.

- So keep or lose the migraine?
- Let's keep.

For now.

Saw it with my own eyes.

Periplaneta Americana.

- Huge.
- Wow.

A cockroach can't be good
for the books.

Exactly.

I'm thinking of posting a sign
to remind everyone

that their mother
doesn't work here,

and they should clean up
their own crumbs.

- That's funny.
- Very clever.

Thank you.

Should I use Helvetica
or Times New Roman?

Would Comic Sans
communicate good cheer

or undercut the seriousness
of the message?

Even your breathing
is depressing today.

You know that, Alice?

Hey, I have an idea.

- Yeah?
- Yeah, go fuck yourself.

I'm not here to entertain you.

Huh.

If you say so.

'Cause the other day,
when you tried to escape,

that was funny.

All that kicking and shrieking.

Gives me a big chuckle
every time I think of it.

Good day, Ms. Quinn.

Lunch.

I thought you had slaves
for that.

Junior Librarians.

I must insist you eat today.

Fine. Insist away.

Oh.

You nosy bitch.

Excuse me?

You read my book, huh?

Right up to the great
blank spot.

Did you read that whole
chapter, hmm?

You wanna talk about
all the positions

Quentin and I were in?

Did my book tell you
how many times I came?

I can't let you starve,

and I don't want
to force you to eat.

Neither of us would enjoy that.

Keep cooperating,
and you may continue to receive

approved reading material.

Wait.

I have a question.

I'm sorry.

Dean Fogg's not coming.

Dean Fogg.

The new students?

Appreciate you coming

all the way here
to deliver this.

- Yes, well, you did...
- What's the word?

Mandate that I do so.

A formality.

We have the utmost faith

in your selection methods.

This is merely for our records.

Hmm.

This one.

Professor Lipson reported
she caused an unusual reaction

on your globe.

Do you know why?

I'm sure it'll become clear.

She shows great potential.

In what way?

I'm not sure yet,

but that's why
she's at Brakebills.

Well, I trust your instinct.

Approved.

Always a pleasure.

Alice is fine.

Depressed, surly.

Still asking to see you again.

She's fixated on the thing
she says she saw in the castle.

You told her, didn't you?

That your
independent contractors

are looking into the threat,
yes,

but she's not worried
about mass destruction.

She's worried about her friends.

I can't think of anyone
better protected than they.

Let's be frank, Zelda.

My students saved magic.

The world may throw flowers
at the feet of the Order

and Irene McAllistair,

but you and I both know
the goddamn truth.

The Order stepped into
an oversight position.

Everything we do
is to preserve knowledge,

to make things safer.

I'm not arguing the benefits.

But you are,
because they come at a cost.

Bottom line:
If your students resurface,

I can't stop Irene
from doing what she will

to ensure their silence.

We have certain...

agreements with her as well.

So...

they must stay where they are,
as they are.

They'll be fine.

Your spellwork was...

masterful.

You know my one solace, Zelda?

When my attempts to protect them

inevitably fail,

their blood
will be on your hands.

Have a good day, Zelda.

- Don't tell me to relax.
- I'm pissed.

- Okay.
- I get it.

- But you're overreacting.
- I should throw this at you.

Sam, come on.

You made three
very strong arrests.

And this douchewater
just walks away,

based on what?

Explain that to me.

That douchewater
always gets away.

What are you talking about?

Seen him booked six times.

Never sticks.

Hey, what can I say?
Some people are lucky.

Or their lawyers are.

My advice is, let it go.

Uh, excuse me, miss?

Can I help you?

That guy.

He was just here.

Oh, I must not have heard.

Have a good day, sir.

Hmm...

"Hedge witch."

Oh, shit.

Oh, come on.

Piece of shit.

Damn it.

Get your shit together,
Cunningham.

Shit!

Of course.

- Hi, Mark.
- Listen, I know you're a cop.

Yeah, and, uh,
I know what you are.

I was just, uh, leaving.

Yeah, I've noticed
you're good at that.

Six arrests,
nothing ever sticks.

- Look, I don't hurt anyone.
- It's all strictly side hustle.

Cut the shit.

I know there's more of you.

That you call yourself, what?
Hedge witches?

What the hell?

I'm not stealing anything
that's gonna hurt anyone.

Minor shit.
Charms, enhancements.

Nothing dark and... look,
I have no interest

in poking whatever kind
of witness-protection spell

you've got going, okay?

That thing tried to kill me
for looking at it.

What are you talking about?

Charms, enchantments.

What, is that French
for "crystal meth"?

You have no idea, do you?

You just think you're you.

Not so fast.

What is that?

Spelling bee medal?

- Give that back.
- What is it?

Protection.

From?

You.

Wait, stop!

Yoo-hoo!

Arise, Your Majesty.

Arise.

What the hell?

You may approach, High King.

Come, come.

Let's take a look at you.

Hi.

What the fuck is going on?

Mm, it's a little bit worrying

that you don't seem
to know, considering.

"Considering"?

Are those horns?

Wait.

Am I at Jeff Goldblum's house
right now?

What did I take?

You are asleep.

I, Ember,
greatest ever God of Fillory,

am blessing a visitation
of my person

on your prone
and receptive state.

Well, more technically,

I, an energetic emanation

previously placed here
by the great God Ember,

have been activated
to contact you.

"Activated."

Activated, mm,

by a disturbance
of great magnitude.

Alarums, Majesty!

I have emanated to warn you.

Great ill is afoot.

Okay.

We're gonna have to take this
from the top, all right?

Because I literally haven't
been this confused

since the time I woke up
in bed with Banksy.

This is concerning.

Which part?

For one thing,
you look awfully like...

a female.

It's chilling.

No matter.

You must get to work
immediately, High King.

Great, sure.

Work on?

Well, this glorious emanation

can only be triggered
by world war,

pandemic, arrival of hostile

or uninvited gods
onto Fillorian soil,

revolt of dwarves,
or mass rising of the dead.

Not sure they'd be able
to do much, the dead.

They're sort of feeble
and rotting.

It just struck me as creepy,

and I'd rather you put
a stop to it.

Okay, horn person?

My name is Janet.

I'm not a king.

I'm an editor, a fashion editor.

You're not even wearing pants.

I don't think this message
is for me.

Wait.

I am Ember,
you insolent little Janet.

There is no walking away.

Only doing what I say.
Quickly.

I'm telling you, I don't know...

Fix this now!

Fuck me.

Fuck it.

Okay.

What?

- What the...
- Fuck!

The color correction
on this model

is so bad, it's racist.

Set a call.

Did Dr. Liu call back?

Yes, he... he said that
all the tests were normal.

My eye is weird.

Colors are weird.

How is that normal, Sophie?

Well, uh, he suggested this,

and he says
he can see you next week

if the problem doesn't resolve.

Next week?

Perfect.

Well...

Now I've definitely seen
this year's ugliest accessory.

It... it was the only one
they had.

I'll deal with it.

It's fine.

Oh, and Sophie.

Mm-hmm?

Did you order
those books for me?

"Fillory and Further."

Oh, um, the Amazon account

locked me out, and... sorry, I...

I'm calling around,

but bookstores
are sold out of it.

I'll keep trying.

That was a lot of words.

Just get it done.

Hey!

What the hell?

Janet Pluchinsky?

- Am I under arrest?
- No.

Well, what's going on, then?

And why are you wearing
that ridiculous

spelling bee medal?

It's a magical amulet.

- Mm.
- Look, I am not crazy, okay?

There's something
you need to know,

and as soon as I start
telling you about this,

bad shit is gonna start
flying at our heads,

and this helps...

but not completely.

That makes no sense.

Would you just
keep your mind open

for two seconds, okay?

My name is Sam Cunningham.

I'm a narcotics officer
with the Seattle P.D.

Flip to chapter three.

It's your life.

And mine.

Look, this medal thing,

it has some sort of...
I don't know what to call it...

Like, a field of effect,

and it is bouncing shit
away from us.

- I'm sorry, do...
- Do you hear yourself?

Tell me things haven't
been weird for you lately.

- Well...
- Something was done to us.

This guy, he told me
that he is a witch,

and I know how that sounds,
but he was real.

And, okay... and I know
how that sounds.

Just spit it out.

He told me that I wasn't me.

That this...

wasn't my identity.

And then I found this.

Well, I've never heard
of this book.

It's super obscure,

but my whole life is in it.

My parents, the Academy,
my last shitty boyfriend.

"Janet Pluchinsky

had stabbed her way to
the accessory editor's desk."

That's a dumb way of putting it.

The writing isn't award-winning.

And my boobs look insane
in this drawing.

A man wrote this, correct?

Correct, but the details.

Did you have a pet sugar glider
when you were eight?

Ate white cheddar popcorn
with Tabasco for breakfast?

You have a dedicated closet
for wigs and fetish underwear?

Come on!

It's okay.

What the hell?

I don't know, but there
are other characters

that are out there, too.

Look, I think we need
to find them.

Let's get the fuck out of here!

Come on!

Hey.

Hey.

I know you're not sleeping.

- Go away.
- Love to.

Locked in a cell.

Look, uh...

I'm not good at comforting...

But for what it's worth,
it's gonna be okay.

- No, don't lie.
- I'm not.

I've been where you are.

Did I ever tell you
why they locked me up?

Talking too much?

I was obsessed
with perfecting this spell.

You ever hear of Diogenes?

Yeah, sad-sack philosopher
with a lantern,

in search of one honest man.

I was finishing his work

to find good people.

Why?

Feel less alone.

Biggest obstacle being that

almost no good people exist.

Anyway, I kept refining it,

and I realized that
I had to focus on children,

because sometimes,

they're not rotten
to the core yet.

Anyway, that's all I wanted,

was to find some good kids,

and in some small way,
reward them.

Come to a point
where I needed this book.

Restricted.

They kept it in a place
they call, uh...

The poison room.

Yeah, killed one of my friends.

Yeah.

It killed some of mine, too.

I was working with
these elf gentlemen.

Uh, it was bad.

- Elves... elves are real?
- Sweet guys.

All that weird sex stuff
you hear about

is only partially true.

Anyway, the Library
came after me.

Possession, uh,
murder on Library property,

like... like I personally
murdered anyone.

Please.

Wait.

A spells that rewards
good children,

and you and your elves...

That was a long time ago.

Are you Santa Claus?

Well...

Well, I'm not, not that.

But I don't like that name.

It got very commercial,

very shopping-mall.

Look, just call me Nick,
asshole.

I tried to escape early on.

Ended up lost in the stacks.

They found me, of course,

and that's when I tried
to kill myself.

Really?

How... how did you cast
in your room?

- I can't do any magic.
- Of course you can't.

I mean, the entire cell
is coated with deadening paint.

I mean, you'd have
to scrape off an entire wall

- to get anywhere.
- How?

Uh, I did it
the old-fashioned way.

I pulled the edge
off of my food tray.

Well, the point is...

Is that I'm glad I'm not dead.

I'm not gonna die in here...

And neither are you.

We're both smart.

We'll figure it out.

Why do you care?

Okay.

Christmas 2004.

The pink diary that your parents

thought your brother got you
and vice versa...

Wait, are you saying
that that was you?

Alice, you are good.

You're nice.

Honestly, most kids
as smart as you

were naughty as shit.

I... I know...

you hurt people,

and you think that means
you should hurt...

but I know.

I know you are not a bad person.

Promise me.

Promise me you'll hang in there.

I promise...

Santa.

- Hey! Help!
- Guard!

Help! Help!

Alice!

Help!

Somebody, help!

Help me!
Over here!

Here! Alice!

Alice!

- Help! Help!
- Alice?

We need help in here!

Alice!
Help!

Alice.

I should have seen this coming.

You're here

because you knowingly broke
a contract with the Order.

Not for causing what happened
to your friends.

You didn't cause that.

They made their own choice.

I know...

Something about guilt.

You wonder why I care.

After all, you betrayed
the Order.

You probably think
I've singled you out

for punishment.

I did single you out.

For rehabilitation.

You have the makings
of a Master.

You could go further
than anyone, you know.

Fogg, your father,

Mayakovsky.

That can happen here.
There's work.

Some in your situation
may be invited to participate,

and then...

this isn't a prison,

because what
could be more fulfilling

than immersion in the great
work of the Order?

I know you hate this place.

Given what you did
to those keys,

I gather you hate
magic itself, so...

I won't ask...

until you're ready.

I hope that day comes.

I'm also not going to let you
kill yourself.

Don't try that again.

The wounds should be healed.

Rona will bring you back
to your room.

I thought you were smart.

That was so stupid.

Sorry if I scared you.

No, you didn't scare me.

You disappointed
the shit out of me,

you histrionic little idiot.

I thought you were strong.

I don't know why
you would think that.

Uh, well, yeah, me neither.

Look, I wasn't trying
to kill myself.

Really?

Look, I was just trying
to figure out

a way out of here,
and I think that...

I... I just need to think.

Kim.

Have a seat.

Um...

I just wanted to talk to you
about my progress.

See, everyone got
their discipline today.

- Oh, yes.
- Always an interesting day.

Except for me.

I heard.

It's not super surprising,
given the fact

that I haven't been able
to do a single piece of magic.

Well, so far.

Heard that as well.

They're calling me a squib.

I even heard
Professor Lipson say it

when she thought
I was out of the room.

I'll talk to her about that.

We discourage that term.

It's considered hate speech.

I mean, but don't you agree?

Do you?

Well, I...

I mean, I think I got
the highest math scores

in the history
of my high school,

and I graduated Harvard
on my 19th birthday.

Who didn't?

I... I'm just saying, I...

Look, of course
I want to keep trying.

It's like...
the moment that I found out

- magic was real...
- Mm.

That was the moment
that I discovered who I am.

You remind me
of a young woman I once knew.

Similar tenacious mind.

I rejected her from Brakebills.

Why?

Suffice to say,

I had much evidence
I was doing the right thing,

but out on her own,

she got hurt, badly.

I had chosen not to protect her.

I'm simply not willing
to repeat that choice with you.

So...

Patience.

Magic is real.

Magic is real!

This is the trippiest thing
I have ever seen.

I gotta say, you're
taking this pretty well.

Well, you know,

it's all an illusion.

The Grand Maya.

Right, yeah.

The Grand Maya.
Of course, man.

Can I just say one thing?

- I cannot believe...
- Hey.

- You're DJ Hansel.
- Stay close, okay?

This medal thing,
it works better

- the closer you are.
- I've been listening

to your Taylor Swift remix
nonstop.

Is it true
that you guys hooked up?

Um, Janet?

- Sorry.
- You always do that.

I was just wondering

what you want me to say
about all these plane tickets.

I don't want you
to say anything.

I want you to expense them.

Oh, well, it's just that

they don't usually
allow so many.

Yeah, huge feature, okay?

- That's DJ Hansel.
- Hey, how you doing?

Yeah, these are his minions.

Put that, okay?

And lattes, Sophie,
from the other place.

You know, the one that...
The little thing I like.

- Okay, okay.
- Yeah, yeah, and...

And almond milk, please,
if you don't mind.

- She's young.
- I'm working with her.

You were working with her.

Now, who knows?

Who knows anything?

- Right, 'cause magic is real.
- You know?

Literally.

Like in movies,
except literally real.

So no one can find
Kim the architect;

Nigel, the bastard son
of a British lord,

was reported missing
by his family;

And, uh, Brian
the English professor,

also reported missing.

- Not worrying, not worrying.
- Or another way to look at it

is that the whole
goddamn thing is worrying

and no one thing
is any more or less worrying

than anything else.

- Whoa, whoa, whoa.
- Hey, hey, hey.

You need breath work, man.

So how do we figure out
who we really...

Don't say it.

- Shh.
- Okay, just...

I don't know how we're supposed

to talk about this

if we're not allowed
to talk about this.

Yeah, I mean,
shouldn't all of us

being in a room together
be enough to...

- I don't know, I mean...
- Okay, look.

Apparently, you have to poke
the fake ID aspect

of the situation
pretty directly.

Okay, just talk around it, okay?

- Okay, okay, okay.
- Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay.

I say we find the writer
of this comic book, right?

James Tyberius R. Martin
is clearly a penname,

but whoever he is,
maybe he knows something

- that can help us.
- Yeah, but...

But that written 14 years ago.

I mean, what does that
even mean?

Because I have memories
from before,

but they're not really mine
because I'm...

Uh, never mind!

Never mind, I said!

Oh, God.

You know, the guy
that got hit by a truck...

- Did he die?
- He's still in the hospital.

Well, if he's alive,

then we can ask him
some questions.

Oh, I wish you wouldn't.

I really feel
you've done enough for him.

Hi.

I'm Marina.

You almost killed
a good friend of mine

and stole that from him,
which he was borrowing.

So, really,
you stole it from me.

Okay, relax.

I'm here to help.

Are you even listening?

Yeah, of course.

Of course I am.

We should get you cleaned up.

You've got so much blood on you

from that boring waiter.

Anyway, we'll have to do it
once we get there.

We have to hurry now.

Where... where are we going?

Scoop of pistachio with jimmies.

- I said I wanted sprinkles.
- Jimmies are sprinkles.

No, stop, jimmies are sprinkles!

Ah!

Hmm, jimmies are sprinkles.

Anyway, Greece.
A temple.

He'll be there for his transit.

It's the only time to catch him.

Flay that bastard's flesh
clean off his bones.

Oh, remind me to get a coat.

Am I remembering

you kill these little bodies
if you get them too cold?

Hey, is there another game
that we can play?

One where we don't flay anybody?

Oh, but he deserves it,

sad little man
we are calling Brian.

- Why? What did he do?
- He knows.

Just like how all your...

friends know too.

- Friends?
- What... what friends?

Oh, but we can't talk
about it, Brian-Not-Brian.

Your glamour gets very angry

if I even say your name
too much.

Look, it's better

you have no idea
what I'm talking about.

These friends,
I'm going to kill them,

and we have to assume

it's going to happen
in front of you.

It will hurt less
if you don't know who they are.

I like you.

Make yourselves at home.

- Nice digs.
- Thank you.

I worked really hard
to steal them.

What is that?

Protection.

From?

Whatever the hell's going on
with you people.

Well, I didn't say
you could move in.

Come on, let's go.

All right.

Well, we know it's big.

Big magic.

Wow, okay.

We know that you don't know
what the fuck it is.

That's fun.

And we know if we poke it,

it pokes us back with a truck.

Oh, wow.

Now I know how
the gold prospectors felt.

It's just dripping off you.

And you have no idea
what that means.

That's fine.

You're all just very, very,

extremely juiced up
on a level that's,

quite frankly,
not legal these days.

I'm just a little curious
how you all got like this.

You... you and us both.

Okay, let's take
a peek underneath

and see what you
really look like.

I don't think that
whatever that is...

Spell, illusion, charm,
whatever.

Yeah, I don't think
it's gonna let you.

Relax, sweetie.

This place is warded
up to the vag,

- and I'm very good...
- Hey.

At what I do.

Just hold still.

So you're like some powerful,

- benevolent white witch?
- Uh-huh.

Oh, well, that's good.

What in creation

is the matter with you,
High King?

Where to start with that?

This is out little game.

I have to ask you
to do things twice

because you're such
a handsome king.

Enough flirtation.

It's unseemly that a simulacrum
of this magnificence

should be bothered
so repeatedly.

Fix it.

Fix what?

I don't know
what you want me to fix!

Whatever the matter is
in Fillory, you simple boy!

Find the bother.

Find it, fix it.

A, fuck you.

B, I'm not in Fillory.

What?

I'm in New York City,

along with everyone else
that matters.

Fillory is fiction.

- It's a kid's book.
- Why didn't you say so?

Time to wake up, High King.

Many blessings.

Guys?

Sam?

Hansel?

What the high holy Jesus freak?

Wake up. Wake up.

Wake up.

Wake the fuck up!

Wake up!

Fuck!

Hello?

Hello?