♪ ♪
(steam whistle blows)
(indistinct chatter)
MILLWORTHY: But the evil was not over.
Before the poor fae's body was cold,
the headmaster was struck down.
And so, there were two lives
cut short before their time,
both man and fae,
their fates entwined by a death most cruel,
delivered by a fiend most foul.
(audience gasps)
(creature snarling)
-(hisses) -(audience gasps)
But will they get the justice they deserve?
Only time will tell.
But of this much we may be certain:
that each, in their own way,
earned their eternal reward.
(audience gasps)
MILLWORTHY: Good Master Finch
bathes in the light of the Martyr
he served all his days.
And Aisling...
sweet, sweet Aisling,
entertains the seraphim with her song.
(voxograph whirs)
(Aisling vocalizing on voxograph)
(audience murmuring quietly)
♪ Now rest you there ♪
♪ In spite of the storm ♪
♪ That is raging ♪
♪ Faith goes and comes ♪
♪ As long as the seasons are changing ♪
♪ I'm sure there is a safe valley ♪
♪ For you and for me. ♪
MILLWORTHY: Thank you so much. Oh.
(stammers) Moira.
So...
This is it, is it?
(exhales)
Your humble little theatrical troupe?
-I'm afraid so. It's, um... -(Gimmly chirrups)
-(Moira and Millworthy chuckle) -(chirping)
I thought the show was lovely.
Really? I'm so glad you liked it.
-(chuckles) -(Gimmly chirps)
-What's all this, then? -Uh...
Oh... Is there a problem, Constable?
Well, it depends. Let's see your permit.
-Permit? -Well, it's a public street, isn't it?
Leave him alone, would you?
And I'll need to see their papers.
(kobolds chirping)
(horse whinnies)
(men chatting)
HARUSPEX: This lichen's gone yellow.
I'll give you ten stivers for the whole lot.
Off with you.
Thieving witch.
Back this soon?
Yes, I am.
(door closes)
What does this say?
"Repository of secrets."
The liver holds multitudes...
for those who know how to see.
Do you have something to show me or not?
(squealing)
(high-pitched squealing)
By the Martyr.
(chuckling): Oh, anything but.
So it's true, then?
A dead thing can be raised to life
and joined with another.
-As your own eyes can attest. -(screeches)
The thing I saw the other night, it had...
intelligence.
-I could sense it somehow. -No.
What you sensed...
was the intelligence behind it.
The Darkasher has no thoughts of its own.
Only those of its master.
-(creature squeals) -They say...
that sometimes its eyes and its master's eyes
can become as one and the same.
(creature squeals)
(exhales) Who here in the Burgue,
besides yourself, would have such knowledge?
That, I cannot say.
But to conjure the thing that I saw
would take skills even beyond my own.
(squealing)
Put it out of its misery.
(screeches)
It cannot be killed, not while you still breathe.
Then put it in a jar.
(scoffs)
(steam whistle blows)
(knocking)
Am I interrupting?
I'm looking over the loan, dear.
I will need your signature
to authorize the lien on the house.
What if I told you I know someone
who's interested in investing in this venture of yours?
My sweet sister, I-I cannot tell you
how much it warms me you wish to support me in this.
That said, I do not have time to pursue idle chatter
from Louisa Pembroke or some such person
that her second cousin twice re...
Oh, no, this is no idle chatter.
This individual has the wherewithal
to fund the furbishment of a ship in its entirety.
Well, then, yes, I-I...
I'd be very pleased to make his acquaintance.
What share of the profits would he be after, I wonder?
It is not a share of the profits he seeks.
Rather, acceptance into our social circle.
I speak, of course, of the Puck across the street, Mr. Agreus.
How would you know how much money he has
or how he would deign to spend it?
He took tea here the other day while you were at the club.
I... I beg your pardon?
And he will be our guest again this afternoon,
along with the Pembrokes and the Guilfoyles.
Uh, that is impossible. And it goes without saying...
-(bangs table) -What is impossible, dear brother,
is for you to secure my signature on a document
that endangers the very roof over our heads...
I will not negotiate with my own fam...
Not when there's another way out of our predicament.
One that will cost us nothing save a measure of pride.
It would be a scandal, Imogen.
-One the Spurnrose name has the strength to endure. -(chuckles)
We would stand stronger together, to be sure,
but I will host the Puck alone if I must.
Oh, will you, now?
In either way, you will take his money.
I won't let you put this house at risk,
not as long as I still draw breath.
Our guests are expected at half past 3:00.
I hope to see you here to greet them.
Imogen? Imogen!
♪ ♪
Good morning, Father. Mother.
-Good morning, Jonah. -Morning.
Your father has something he wants to say to you.
Hmm. Indeed I do.
As pleased as we are, of course, to have you home again,
we need to discuss what happened.
More than discuss. There need to be consequences.
Consequences?
I was the victim here.
-The boy makes a good point. -But none of this would've happened
if he'd done as you told him and stayed off the Row.
True, but let's not forget that in the end,
these unfortunate events did expose
Longerbane's treachery.
(exhales)
It's time for Jonah to put away childish things
-and take hold of his future. -Please, Mother, not the prophecy again.
-Naked and covered with ash, I scaled Mount Carpe. -Piety. Piety.
On my hands and knees I climbed
to consult the Augurs before I married your father.
And they told me that he would be a great man
and that his son would be greater.
Yes, yes, we know.
If your father is chancellor, just think
what the fates have in store for you.
Maybe I'm to be crowned king.
It's not impossible.
Monarchies have been restored before.
Do you see now, Father?
Do you see how, no matter what I do,
it will never be enough for her?
Everything your mother says and does,
she does out of love for you, that much I do know.
How I wish I could believe that.
Jonah.
Apologize at once.
I'm sorry, Mother.
ABSALOM: There. See?
He's sorry.
Your father and I have decided that for the time being,
you're to take a respite from the public eye
and stay home to concentrate on your studies.
ABSALOM: Give the scandal a chance to die down.
Tongues will stop wagging soon enough.
And in the meantime,
-by doubling your hours of tutelage... -Doubling?
...you may very well
complete your course of study by next Austery.
Master Symes is waiting for you in the library.
(indistinct chatter)
(dog barking in distance)
♪ ♪
Something to eat?
Take it.
It's freely given.
Much obliged.
Take one of these, too.
The Cyphers. Do you know it?
Me mum read me stories from it when I was a bairn.
Bless her. You might want to read it for yourself, though.
You might be surprised by what you find.
(grunts)
MILLWORTHY: I don't believe this.
"All fae, whether native born or alien, are required
to show papers upon request."
-Since when? -Since ten years at least.
They can't be here, not without papers.
Well, they are here now.
Well, they're gonna have to go, then.
-Where? -Back where they came from.
Knock? It's been totally destroyed.
-There's absolutely nothing left. -Sir!
"All fae, whether native born or alien,
-are required to show..." -But what if they're not fae?
What else would they be?
Pets?
(chittering)
But they're smart.
They're not that smart.
(chittering)
(sighs) Truth be told,
I can't recall whether kobolds are specifically
mentioned in the statute or not.
Oh, well, why don't you go and check your statute,
-and w-we'll just wait there. -All right, all right.
But you could be opening yourself up to charges
of transporting an animal without a license.
I'm prepared to pay any fine that's required of me.
Just have a seat there, and keep 'em inside that box.
Thank you so much, Officer.
(chittering)
I think we're going to be
absolutely fine.
Ugh. Kobolds.
FLUTE: I fucking knew it was the wrong time to be away.
And the missus wasn't too happy to cut short our holiday
on account of this fucking mess.
Tell me you've made progress.
The headmaster was killed by the same hand as the fae
that was found dead off the Row the other day.
How do you know it was the same killer, then?
Did that Puck that you brought in
to do her autopsy tell you that?
-What Puck? -A butcher from the Row.
He was a physician in Puyan.
(chuckling): Well, in that case...
Took both their fucking livers.
Proof enough for you?
Their livers?
W-Was it some kind of trophy, maybe?
Could be.
All right, well, keep me informed.
Dombey, with me.
Why didn't you tell him about the Darkasher business?
They wouldn't believe me any more than you do.
Anyway, it's not the thing itself,
but it's whoever's controlling it that we want.
Somebody wanted them both dead.
(door bangs shut)
(wind whistling)
(bell tolling)
(indistinct children's chatter)
(footsteps scampering)
Rycroft.
Look at you.
I still can't believe it.
An inspector with the constabulary.
If only poor Master Finch could've seen
the man you've become, he would've been so proud.
Thank you, sir.
Tell me, are you any closer to apprehending
whoever did this terrible thing?
That's why I'm here.
Did you ever see the headmaster with this fae?
Aisling Querelle.
I've never seen her before, no.
Any idea if he might have known her?
Who am I to say?
His colleague and his friend.
I've never seen her before. I'm sorry.
Now, if you'll excuse me,
I need to attend to several pressing matters.
Do feel free to have a look about.
(wind whistling)
(steam whistle blowing in distance)
(children's chatter in distance)
(children's chatter continues in distance)
(bed squeaking)
(children's laughter)
BOY: I can fly. Look at me, Darius. I can fly.
(laughter continues)
I can fly, Darius.
(laughter, indistinct chatter)
-(loud thud) -(groans)
CHILD: Are you all right, Philo?
♪ ♪
AISLING: ♪ Lora lie lo ♪
♪ Lora lie lay ♪
♪ Lay lo, lay lo ♪
♪ Lay, lay ♪
♪ Lora lie lo ♪
♪ Lora lie lay ♪
♪ Lay lo, lay lo ♪
♪ Lay, lay. ♪
♪ ♪
Everything must be perfect.
Louisa Pembroke can sneer that I invited a Puck all she wants,
but the harken cake must be above reproach.
My harken cake is the best in the Crossing,
and you well know it.
(gasps) I'll miss me lots!
(sniffs)
Please, miss.
-Vignette. -Afissa.
I'll take that for you if you like.
So you're running the lots now?
They gave me the Finistere route.
You told me to find a life for myself.
I didn't mean the Black Raven.
Those fae'll slit your throat soon as look at you twice.
I'll watch my back. Don't you worry.
Well, you're not one to suffer any guff, I'll give you that.
(carriage approaching)
I'd better get back inside.
Good luck to you, girl.
-Good luck to you, too. -(chuckles)
I'll win, one of these days.
(sniffs)
This way, please.
Mr. and Miss Guilfoyle.
Pierce, Hortensia, do come in.
How long has it been? Feels like ages.
Be a good man, won't you,
and fetch that straight-back chair for these old bones.
Mr. Agreus is not employed here.
He is a guest.
I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Guilfoyle.
And happy to oblige.
This damp weather does no favors for anyone's bones,
old or young.
Here you are.
Most kind.
Mr. Agreus is our new neighbor.
He recently took ownership of Cheswith House across the way.
How extraordinary.
It is an extraordinary property. You're quite right.
I was fortunate it came on the market when it did.
(Imogen chuckles)
-(doorbell rings) -More guests?
Louisa and Leonid Pembroke.
(quietly): Oh, thank the Martyr.
Indeed. The more, the merrier.
(door opens)
Master and Miss Pembroke.
Is it a game?
Are we meant to dress up as help and serve the servants?
(Leonid laughs softly)
(awkward laughter)
Mr. Agreus is not an employee here.
He's a guest.
What a pleasure, Mr. Agreus.
I'm Leonid Pembroke. This is my sister, Louisa.
Is that your Afissa's harken cake?
-I've been craving a slice all week. -Yes. Oh, please sit.
I would very much like to hear your opinion
on our city's recent troubles, Mr. Agreus.
She baked it special for you.
I imagine you were no more grieved than I was
to hear of Ritter Longerbane's well-deserved comeuppance.
And why do you suppose that would be?
Oh, his antipathy to your kind, beyond reason.
Well, I have to wonder whether the thousands
that have lost their job because my kind
are willing to work for less would agree.
(awkward chuckle) Well, s-surely sacrifices have to be made
in order to-to create a more inclusive society.
Have you ever been to Puyan, Mr. Pembroke?
(laughing): I should think not.
I mean, you could go months there
without encountering anyone that wasn't a Puck.
Not a Trow or a Pix in sight, much less a man.
And I can assure you that no one there
gives even the slightest thought
towards creating a more... inclusive society.
Well, it's not as if anyone would care to live there.
(laughter)
Not since the war, in any event.
I know I don't.
Which is how I find myself here,
in such fine company.
(clock ticking loudly)
(throat clears)
Harken cake, anyone?
(bell tolling)
(drops book in box, closes box)
♪ ♪
(young Philo praying indistinctly)
...and may bathe forever in your light,
O blessed Martyr.
FINCH: Very good, Rycroft.
Now, ask the Martyr to protect your secret,
to hide the truth of the fae blood in your veins.
YOUNG PHILO: I will, sir. I'll pray.
Master Thorne.
You're still here.
I was just remembering something you taught me.
Oh?
That sins of omission are far more dangerous
than sins of commission.
Because they're easier to get away with.
What made you think of that?
I can't help feeling there's something
you haven't been entirely truthful about.
You think I've lied to you?
I think you've chosen not to tell me something.
A sin of omission, as you say.
Easy enough to get away with.
Just tell me I'm wrong, and I'll be on my way.
Today would've been Costin's night off.
After the boys had suppered and he'd led last prayers,
he would've dressed his best,
like he did every Gullsday for as long as I knew him,
and taken a carriage to the Row.
The Row?
I've never known a finer man than Costin Finch,
but he did succumb to the appetites of the flesh.
You saying...
He frequented a certain house of ill repute
well-known for providing...
fae companionship.
It's repellent to contemplate, I know,
but there you have it.
♪ ♪
Thank you for being forthcoming.
It could mean everything to this case.
Is there a reason you had to make this harder
than it already is?
He was only trying to be polite.
I won't be condescended to.
(whispering): What could've possibly got into her?
She's always been a bit off, hasn't she?
I'm sorry, I can't do this.
I thought I could weather their disapproval,
but I see now I haven't the strength.
-We had an agreement. -Please,
make your excuses and go.
And what will you tell them?
That it was just a game after all?
A joke?
I have clearly failed to uphold
my end of the bargain.
I understand that I cannot expect you to uphold yours.
I should've known you wouldn't have the mettle for this.
(sets cup down)
I am more than happy to return you to poverty.
-Miss Imogen. -(door opens)
EZRA: Ah.
I am so sorry I'm late.
I was held up with my solicitors.
Mr. Agreus,
pleasure to meet you again.
Welcome to our home.
Please take a seat.
♪ ♪
If you're to complete your course of study by Austery,
you'll need tutors in every field of knowledge.
-Lucky me. -What's that?
-I said I'll leave that to you. -Quite so.
In the meantime, the best way to learn about politics
is to witness it for yourself.
And there's no greater practitioner than your father.
(applause, indistinct chatter)
Who's that?
Longerbane's daughter, Sophie.
As his sole living heir,
she'll fill his seat until the next election.
It's just a formality, really.
She'll take her oath, mouth some platitudes,
and that'll likely be the last we see of her.
(bell clanging)
Gentlemen and gentle ladies of Parliament,
I stand before you brokenhearted
by the loss of my father.
He was a great man,
and I will endeavor to make him proud.
(light laughter, murmuring)
Dear girl, I am sure that, like myself,
you are eager to put behind us the rancor
that has led us to this juncture.
Thank you for your words.
Now, if I may,
I'd like to turn my fellow proctors' attention to...
I wasn't finished, Chancellor.
(quiet murmuring)
ABSALOM: By all means.
Continue.
(scattered coughs)
It is not only
my father's memory I wish to honor,
but my mother's, too.
Her desert blood was written on her face
surely as it is written on mine.
Her forefathers fled the chaos of war in the Pharaonic Coast
and came to these shores,
where the color of their skin
made them outcasts.
But, like so many others,
they overcame the prejudices of that time
and found a place in this great city.
And that speaks well of the Burgue and its values.
(applause)
Today,
the chaos of war in the lands of the fae
has brought a new wave of refugees to these shores.
And they, too, are seen as outcasts.
It is right to ask
if our suspicions of these newcomers
will one day be seen as a benighted vestige of the past.
It is right to ask if we can overcome
the differences between us and the fae
that rear our children,
plow our fields, work our factories.
Hear, hear.
-(pounding) -OTHERS: Hear, hear.
(whispers): By the Martyr, she's turning on her own father.
I stand before you with my answer.
-We cannot. -(cheering)
The fae are
-nothing like us. -(cheering)
Our differences are more than skin deep,
and our chancellor
has turned a blind eye
for far too long,
but I will not.
A great tide of anger is rising in this city.
Its good people have had enough!
-(cheering) -MAN: Yes! Yes!
And I, Sophie Longerbane,
-stand with them. -(cheering)
Who will stand with me?
(cheering)
(clamoring)
(chanting): Longerbane! Longerbane!
Longerbane!
By the Martyr,
she's the most magnificent creature I've ever laid eyes on.
-(piano playing) -(festive chatter)
Ah, thank you.
I think I got this right. Have a look.
Hmm?
Yeah, that looks right to me.
Last three digits are six, eight, nine.
That's the number, then.
(sighs) Let's see if I've got any winners.
(knock on door)
Sun's down. It's showtime.
(clears throat) She's still here?
Just till she gets back on her feet.
She doesn't have much meat on her bones, does she?
Well, some men like that, I suppose.
Oh, she's-she's not looking for a job here.
Please.
All right, she can stay.
For a bit.
As long as she doesn't get in the way of business, Tourmaline.
Fair enough.
-Thank you, Moira. -Thank you.
-(door closes) -(sighs)
Any winners?
Mm, not today.
Okay. Come on, then.
Go away. Girl's got to work.
Right.
I'll go deliver the skim. Kill some time.
Maybe come back around 2:00 with some food?
Mm. Perfect.
(laughing)
I suppose I should try not to get too used to this.
(laughter, indistinct chatter)
What are you doing here?
Don't worry.
-It's police business. -Right.
-I've got to work, too. -Be careful.
(scoffs) Like you give a shit.
How can I help?
This man was a client here.
You're a copper.
I need to speak to his regular girl.
My clients expect confidentiality.
Not this one. He's dead.
Costin's dead?
Murder.
Who was his girl?
It's a little more complicated than that.
Come on.
For as long as I can remember,
Costin would book a room with two girls
each Gullsday night.
The bed would be put to work.
The girls weren't.
Go on.
He preferred people thinking he had a taste for Pix whores
to them knowing the truth.
That he was meeting with another man's woman?
That he was meeting...
with another man.
MAN: You must think it foolish of me,
coming to an empty room to say goodbye.
This was the only place we could ever feel safe.
We stood over his body together.
You gave nothing away.
When you've lived with a secret as long as I have,
you'd be amazed what you can hide.
Still, there's always the shame.
Fear of being discovered.
It's strange.
We only had one night a week
when we could be who we truly were.
So little time in the scheme of things,
yet somehow it's the rest of it that...
Feels like a lie.
Yes.
There's something I should've told you the other day
when we were in the morgue.
Costin knew Aisling.
They met a long time ago, before he took his vows.
They were close then.
He must've seen her perform a dozen times.
Hmm.
So the murders are connected somehow.
So it would seem.
It's hard to see how.
They hadn't spoken in 20 years, at least as far as I'm aware.
(sighs)
Thank you, Doctor.
And know this--
your secret's safe with me.
Maybe it's time I stopped hiding.
Time will tell if I've the courage.
MAN: Fucking Critch.
MAN 2: Piece of shite.
(quiet chatter)
I read it. Front to back.
Tell me, I want to know everything.
(door bangs open)
Uh... Well, excuse me.
Excuse me!
-Can I help you? -Yeah, where are my kobolds?
Kobolds?
Yeah, they were in a case on the bench.
Where are they?
Right.
-Packed them off already. -Uh, no, no, no, no, no.
The constable was just going to check their status.
That was all.
All I know is there was a deportation order.
-What? -Here, somewhere.
Yeah, here it is. Right.
See?
Hang on a minute. You're right.
"Order pending status check."
-Didn't see that bit. -Yeah, so where are they?
Packed them off, like I said. To the docks.
-To the docks? -For deportation.
Ship bound to... Ignota.
Would've left by now, I should think.
So what's it called?
-What? -The ship.
-What's its name? -Get your hands off me!
Tell me what its name is. What's its name?!
♪ ♪
(indistinct chatter)
(panting)
(quietly): Janus.
(man exclaims)
The Janus, where's she docked?
-The Janus? -Janus?
-The boat. The ship. -Oh, the ship.
-Yeah. -Yeah, sh-she, uh... she set sail a few minutes ago.
-What? -(chuckling): Yeah.
It's gone.
No!
Oh, no!
(exhales)
♪ ♪
It's blood money. That's what it is.
No one's died.
If we managed to muddle through this afternoon,
it's only because our guests were too polite to do otherwise.
And to think,
the story of the Puck who came to tea at the Spurnroses'
is spreading like poison even now.
We can weather this if we stand together.
Well, he will want more than an invitation for tea
for this amount.
Naturally.
I'll need to be seen with him in public,
on several occasions at least.
And where does it end?
When someone else extends him a proper invitation,
-I suppose. -(chuckles)
Now, thank the Martyr,
Father is not here to see how low we've sunk.
If Father were here, none of this
would be necessary, would it?
(drawer opens)
I'm going to bed. Good night.
Good night.
Ezra?
Yes?
Thank you.
♪ ♪
Good girl.
Good girl, Giddy.
♪ ♪
(Aisling vocalizing faintly)
(crying)
-(snipping) -(screeches)
(exhales)
What time is it?
(sniffs)
(exhales)
God's noose, I fell asleep.
(panting)
Good night.
PHILO: She was a singer back in the day.
She had a voice.
Haunting.
Can't get it out of my head.
♪ ♪
(Aisling vocalizing on voxograph)
♪ Now rest you there ♪
♪ In spite of the storm that is raging ♪
♪ Faith goes and comes as long as the seasons... ♪
-(thud) -(music stops)
(Giddy whimpering in distance)
Giddy?
Giddy.
(creaking)
Giddy?
(grunts, whimpers)
(yells)
(panting)
(creature growling)
(whimpering)
(snarling)
(screams)
(voxograph crackles)
(Aisling vocalizing on voxograph)
♪ Lora lie lo ♪
♪ Lora lie lay ♪
♪ Lay lo, lay lo ♪
♪ Lay, lay ♪
♪ Lora lie lo ♪
♪ Lora lie lay ♪
♪ Lay lo, lay lo ♪
♪ Lay, lay ♪
♪ I'll fly for you ♪
♪ My child, my son ♪
♪ Sweet dreams to you ♪
♪ My only one ♪
♪ I'll fly for you ♪
♪ My child, my son ♪
♪ Sweet dreams, my only one ♪
♪ Lora lie lo ♪
♪ Lora lie lay ♪
♪ Lay lo, lay lo ♪
♪ Lay, lay ♪
♪ Lora lie lo ♪
♪ Lora lie lay ♪
♪ Lay lo, lay lo ♪
♪ Lay, lay ♪
♪ I'll fly for you ♪
♪ My child, my son ♪
♪ Sweet dreams to you ♪
♪ My only one ♪
♪ I'll fly for you ♪
♪ My child, my son ♪
♪ Sweet dreams to you ♪
♪ My only one ♪
♪ I'll fly for you ♪
♪ My child, my son ♪
♪ Sweet dreams, my only one ♪
♪ Lora lie lo ♪
♪ Lora lie lay ♪
♪ Lay lo, lay lo ♪
♪ Lay, lay ♪
♪ Lora lie lo ♪
♪ Lora lie lay ♪
♪ Lay lo, lay lo ♪
♪ Lay, lay. ♪