Original subtitles

Previously on "The Magicians"...

- Fuck! - I'm so sorry.

It's Reynard. He's back.

Wait, I am pregnant.

I wasn't the only one he raped that night,

but I was the only one who got pregnant.

This is exorcism, you understand?

Did it work? Is it gone?

In the center of your being, there's a tiny beating heart.

It's called a shade. It's what makes you feel.

The pain will burn you till there's nothing.

There was a complication. Her shade, it's gone.

I feel light,

like a million pound weight's off my chest.

Say we get the perfect spell,

think about the energy it'd take to work it.

Dana's baby... his son.

You know, there is a ton of lore on demigods.

They're powerful in their own right.

We need to find him.

As for Loria...

Some 8,000 troops are headed to the border.

So we're totally outnumbered.

And of course, our preparation is affected

by the continued unsteadiness of the Wellspring.

- Looks like... - A major drought's hit.

You can't even get out of this shoddy little magician.

Free yourself, then find me.

- Alice, we can talk about this. - Just shut up! Shut up!

This is your body trying to hold a niffin inside it.

You can't... not for much longer,

or it's gonna kill us both.

Seriously, you guys, I'm in a cage.

You think this is, uh, a tad redundant?

- Protocol. - For werewolves.

Okay, technically, I have

sexually transmitted lycanthropy... a very mild case.

Would've been cool to actually fully wolf out.

You know...

Either way, it's totally curable.

Treatable. There is no actual cure.

Well, silver bullet.

Hey, don't go through my bag.

Quentin, you're dying.

Yeah, well, aren't we all?

You are dying quickly.

You cannot keep this thing inside you much longer.

Well, I can't let her go.

Which is why you must box her.

I'm not doing that to Alice.

Quentin, there is no more Alice.

This is uncharted territory. Nobody knows.

Well, I know that you will be dead in days

if you don't rid yourself of her.

May I help you steal from me?

Nope, I got it.

Good luck with all your shit.

These damn brownouts.

We may be the least trusted monarchs

in the history of Fillory.

Thank God they don't have polls here.

That's the third brownout this week.

If we don't fix the Wellspring soon, Your Majesty...

One problem at a time, okay?

Our soldiers are deserting us in protest,

thanks to Julia committing tree genocide.

Pardon me, Your Majesty.

For the official records, may I suggest

a slightly less incendiary term?

Perhaps "arbicide"?

Sure, if you can also recommend

how we fight a war without an army.

Your Majesty, there is one option...

- a rather obscure law, based... - Less words.

One-on-one combat.

Between monarchs.

- A duel? - El...

With Ess's dad? He's gotta be at least 50.

And I'm pretty buff from all the living

without technology or decent wine.

Slow down.

Is there any rule about not using magic?

- No, Your Majesty. - Highness, if I may,

there is a reason we haven't brought up this, uh,

option before,

especially since magic is not completely dependable.

Simply put, you're likely to...

well... die.

Mm-hmm. Tick, if I did this,

how popular would I be?

No king has ever volunteered

for one-on-one combat.

If you were to prevail, you would easily be

the greatest leader in Fillorian history.

- The greatest. - The greatest.

God,

he's already seeing the statues.

I hereby decree...

rulers done gonna rumble.

Sync & corrections by honeybunny WEB-DL resync by kinglouisxx www.addic7ed.com

Eliot's the king of all this?

Yeah, looking for rock-solid proof there's no justice, that.

Even this dungeon's nicer than any place I lived as a kid...

oh, except for my uncle's BMW.

Would've been even nicer if he'd actually been my uncle.

Don't be fooled by the high gloss.

This place sucks.

- Hey. - What's up?

We found Reynard's son.

So this is a breakout.

- Why are you in here anyway? - I killed trees.

- Seriously. - That could talk.

They have talking trees here?

Not anymore.

So what's Reynard's son like?

I guarantee you won't believe it.

Let's go.

What the fuck?

He's marking his territory.

Hey, I refuse to be shamed.

Didn't you hear what Friar Joseph said?

Not all niffins are the same.

I'm not gonna go on some killing spree

anymore than he would.

Q... don't you believe me?

I believe you believe you.

Sorry?

I'm not talking to you.

I just want to do what Joseph does.

Please. Beautiful, high-level magic.

I'm not letting you loose.

It's bad for the world.

I'm not boxing you.

I don't want to know a world without Alice.

Keep this up, and you won't have to.

We'll both be dead.

Good plan.

Eliot...

The intel I'm getting on King Idri

and the protocols of dueling... not good.

I mean, you ever even touched a sword before today?

No, but... Magician.

Well, sword fighting spells,

of which there are only two anyone knows of,

take months to master.

Why? It's a giant butter knife.

It's all the variables in any given match.

It's almost infinite.

I mean, sure, you could slap together spell,

maybe get four or five good moves.

- Which brings us to thing two. - How many things are there?

Look, King Idri has fought 14 duels.

All opponents dead.

Senator Gaines' rise has been described

as nothing less than meteoric.

Reynard's son is John Gaines?

- You know him? - I mean, I know who he is.

He's on rails to the White House.

I hit one of his rallies, did a psychic scan.

Dude believes every word he says.

I believe that everyone is born with a flame of goodness,

and if my light or yours go out,

remember, we're not alone in this world.

- See? - Wow.

He's the perfect demigod spokesmodel of absolute evil.

Who's kinda hot as shit.

- What? - Sorry.

Look, he's not even my type, obviously; it's... it's weird.

Dude has more magic coming off him

than every Magician on Earth combined

and knows not one thing about magic.

Well, he's sure gonna.

How's the battle prep?

If someone had told me a year ago

that I'd be venting to my wife,

while preparing to do battle on behalf of my mythical kingdom...

I'd have done a lot more drugs.

I have something that might help.

Great, depending on what your definition of help is.

I know I haven't always given you reason to trust me.

My grandpa forged this sword for a High King

who vanished without ever claiming it.

Since then, my family's been saving it

for someone truly worthy.

It's beautiful, but I'm not sure it actually helps.

I'll never learn a spell in time.

It was made for a king, as was the accompanying spell.

And sword spells take weeks to master.

Not when it's written for a king.

My grandpa was the royal family's favorite sword smith

because he knew they were, uh, too...

- Too lazy to learn? - Too... preoccupied

with matters of state for busywork.

With this spell and this blade,

you will be a master swordsman.

Insert weak double entendre I'd have to explain.

Sorry?

"Praise Ember's strength

"and Umber's wisdom.

"Bring unto me the lifeblood knowledge

of all masters of the blade who have come before."

Fen...

Fen, I actually feel marginally less fucked now.

All my life, I've put my family first.

Now that's you and our baby.

I'll really try not to die again.

I'd really appreciate that.

No, no, no, stop... hold on... hey, Becky.

Security?

- Security? - It's not working.

All right.

Whatever this is, stop. Tell me what you want.

- Man, you're good. - Mm-hmm.

Let's get to it.

Magic is real.

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

Okay.

Okay, is this some kind of a gag?

Is this a publicity stunt for a TV show?

We're Magicians being hunted by an evil God,

and so are you.

Listen, obviously you guys believe this,

- and... and I respect that. - Bullshit.

No, it is not bullshit. It is... okay.

This'll take forever. It's not like

- we need him alive anyway. - Jesus, what the fuck, Julia?

We don't need him. We need his energy.

- No. - You're born, huge energy;

you die, bigger energy, especially a demigod.

That is what we are after here, people, the energy.

Right now, he's just a skin sack hiding it from us.

Okay, you need something to hold that energy.

- Like this? - Jesus.

- Oh, my God. - You planned this all along.

All right, all of you,

get the fuck out of my office now!

I won't die here tonight.

I will not die here!

Oh, shit.

He's okay.

He just fainted.

- Hey! - Whoa! No.

We are not, not, killing a U.S. senator.

But we will commit a felony almost as stupid.

Ok sloth,

you're the most honest one on the damn council,

so I'm counting on you to not kiss my ass or cover yours.

We've got a sword spell, so yay us.

But we need the Wellspring to work.

There can't be one brownout or blip during the duel.

So straight-up, how do we guarantee that?

- It's too... - What?

Um...

There is something,

but we urge you not to do it.

- Tell me. - Petition the fairies?

Fairies?

Do I know about the fairies?

They exist outside our realm.

They can be contacted, and they have great powers.

Well, can they fix the Wellspring?

Almost certainly.

Guys? The fuck?

Uh, fairies are notoriously...

- mercurial? - Have ya met your king?

They make complex deals with steep prices and...

Yeah, get me a meeting.

One has to contact their ambassador,

a human, which can sometimes take days, even weeks.

Well, then chop-chop.

And never keep information from me again, okay?

Yes, Your Highness.

You, Sloth, you read me?

- What? - Nothing.

Is that that senator dude?

You think we kidnapped a U.S. senator

and stuffed him in a closet?

No. Jesus, of course not.

Okay.

How'd you get him past the wards?

Hey, does one of you have an alumni key?

So cool. Um, can I borrow it sometime?

There's this really hot... I'd love to sneak her...

Ah, vodka Gibson, four onions.

Yeah, right away.

So what do we do when he wakes up and starts kicking the door?

Whatever it is has nothing to do with you.

Stay away from him.

Or?

No, you don't want to go there.

Pretty sure we're already there.

Enough.

I'll keep an eye on the senator.

- She's psychotic. - Look, she's being

a little... extreme, yeah,

but she's got her reasons, okay? Just trust me.

- I know Julia. - That's not Julia.

Even she knows that.

The only person who doesn't seem to know that is you.

Looks good.

- What's wrong? - Wrong?

Your face... I'm an obsessive fan, so tell.

Thank you, Soren.

The sword's good.

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