The Magicians

Previously on "The Magicians."

Alice is fine. Depressed.

Surly.

Still asking to see you again.

She's fixated on the thing

she says she saw in the Castle.

She's worried about her friends.

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

They must stay where they are as they are.

They'll be fine.

Your spellwork was was masterful.

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.

So how do we figure out who we really are?

Hi. I'm Marina.

I'm here to help.

So you're like some powerful, benevolent

White Witch?

Let's take a peek underneath

and see what you really look like.

Fix it.

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

Whatever the matter is in Fillory!

Hello?

Hello?!

Old.

Things get old so fast, don't they?

Sorry, but where are we?

I told you, Greece.

Right, right.

This is the temple of the god we are summoning.

Enyalius.

God of war.

Thought that was Ares.

Say that when you see him.

It makes him so mad.

So okay. Go in the woods.

Get a pig.

Excuse me?

A wild pig.

The younger the better.

Sorry, I don't mean to be difficult,

but couldn't you just conjure one?

Hmm, no.

It has to be caught with human hands

and stained with human effort.

You know, that, that stuff

that comes out of your skin.

Sweat?

Hurry.

What the fuck did you do?

I didn't do anything.

That spell's a cunt with fangs.

I thought your amulet was supposed to protect us.

It did. You're alive and welcome, asshole.

Well, great, that didn't work and we're back to square one.

- Yeah? - Hello,

whoever you are.

Do not tamper with my enchantment.

Holy shit, it's James Earl Jones!

Shut. Up.

Yes, you've triggered a read-me file voicemail.

And no, you may not take me off speaker phone.

You will not circumvent or defeat this spell.

Whoever you are, walk away. Now.

Or your death is as certain as those I've enchanted.

So spells are basically credit cards

with automated fraud warning calls?

That's not super inspired.

Well, neither is Henry Fogg.

You are his favorite students, right?

Sit in the kitchen

until I tell you it's safe.

You stay.

She scares me.

Yeah, well, she's not the one with the Glock.

I've got a theory about you, stud.

Stand close.

Oh, Henry. Such a good try.

What are you doing?

I'm making you useful.

Wait.

Where's Janet?

Hello?

Anyone?

Mother Nature, can you hear me?

Wow, forests don't even talk.

Whole psychotic break just lacks imagination.

Again.

- Jesus. - Dude.

The chips.

How am I doing this?

Yes.

This pond better be vodka.

Your Majesty?

Jesus fuck.

Forgive the suddenness of my introduction.

I know you're not quite yourself, King Margo.

What are you?

Where am I?

And why does everybody in this nightmare

keep calling me king?

Is that even a thing?

I'll endeavor to explain.

Hello.

You're being kind of quiet.

Look, you're nice and all.

Sort of. But I could use some Intel on this place

but how do I know you're not a snitch?

Well, because

like it or not, I'm Santa.

Which used to mean I was once considered fairly honest.

Reasonably reliable, but I, I don't know.

Maybe...

slightly admired.

Then all of the sudden everyone's like, "Hey."

You break into houses once a year. What's up with that?"

And, uh, "Kids sit on your lap.

How is that not creepy?"

Congratulations, Earth.

You ruined the name of Santa.

So you don't want to hear from me?

Good.

'Cause I'm sure you don't need

this thing I could get you.

Called magic.

How?

I am the Lord of All Fillorian Fresh Water.

Which is a bit pretentious,

so, please, call me Lord Fresh.

Assuming this is actually happening,

you pulled me down here.

Why?

Your birthright box.

You and my birth box

ain't happening

so back up, "Shape of Water."

No, no. Your birthright box.

There.

Right.

No, Majesty!

If you touch it, it will harm you.

Even my protective wards couldn't save you.

You know about that spell shit?

I'm really somebody else,

and if I try to figure out who shit clobbers me, burns me?

Correct.

Though, as I said, you're safe down here.

Your birthright box,

which it has been my honor to guard,

dictated your absence from the kingdom,

your loss of self, and your return

this day and hour.

But I must caution.

It also predicted

that you would learn what it is

to live and rule alone.

Yeah? Well, alone's my jam, grenouille.

And no matter what, I rule.

Your enchantment is most powerful.

I'm not sure that my wards will hold.

To come back and claim your destiny,

you must find the god who summoned you in the dream.

Please accept my apologies.

I'm afraid I can't keep you as safe as I had hoped.

Walk toward the mountains.

My destiny is to die of pneumonia, isn't it?

You can tell me.

Hardly, Majesty.

Please return when the spell is lifted.

Here's your lunch.

Well, if he did anything like my Henry,

he keeps most of his secrets...

in here.

Todd.

Oh, my God.

Hansel?

- Hey. - We gotta hustle.

Yeah...

anything I can do?

Yeah. Take your shirt off

and make me a sandwich.

Sorry, but I'm starved.

If it helps, I'm vegan, so this sucks for me too.

Todd? Jesus, are you drunk?

Marina.

Hello, Henry.

What is this? What did you do?

It's the same blue shit you gave Hansel.

Only I knew you wouldn't drink it at my request.

So here's the deal.

- Give yourself the antidote. - There is no antidote.

Bullshit.

Whoa, hoo, hoo, hoo!

So it's true!

Everything she's been telling us is true!

Us?

Who else is involved in this?

Pretty much all of your apple-shining,