Chapter Text
1. IN THE DARKNESS
One-two-three-four… Exhale.
One-two-three-four… Exhale.
AMELIA (V.O.)
(desperate)
Come on, Sarge! Come on!
(to someone)
Again!
One-two-three-four… Exhale.
FADE IN:
2. INT. WAREHOUSE — EARLY MORNING
PETER blinks his eyes open. Immediately, a coughing fit attacks him. He sits up sharply as his body shudders violently. Suddenly, a rectangular, plastic container appears in front of his face. Peter looks up and through the veil of tears he can see ABDUL, in his civilian clothes, standing over him.
Peter ratchets fruitlessly, the cough subsides a bit. He looks around, surprised to find himself not in the hospital, but in a brightly lit storage space, hooked up to not one but two IV-lines, the bags are clipped to a pyramid of plain wooden boxes. He is also stripped down to his boxers and wrapped up in a thick wool blanket.
He looks back at the tired cryptopathologist, who seems to have aged visibly in the last hours.
PETER
(hoarsely)
Anything?
Abdul shakes his head sorrowfully.
3. EXT. DR WORLD DOCKS — PIER — EARLY MORNING
SEAWOLL is pacing along the pier, the radio clenched in his hand. His eyes are a bit red and puffy.
BEVERLEY’s head resurfaces from the slightly muddy water. She grabs a tactical rope, the CO19 officers have tied up to a crane, and hauls herself up and onto the pier. Clad in a winter diving suit, the river goddess is carrying Nightingale’s sword.
Alexander glances at the weapon suspiciously. It is still shimmering with magic, and there is no blood on it.
SEAWOLL
(to Bev)
How come he managed to pull out the sword?
BEVERLEY
That’s a good question, isn’t it?
(beat)
Chelsea and Olympia went up the town side. But there is not much of a flow. And Mum still can’t sense him.
SEAWOLL
He might’ve been dragged up to the sea.
BEVERLEY
(sceptically)
By the tide, you mean?
Seawoll shrugs helplessly.
BEVERLEY
(softly)
I’m not saying that sending divers out there is a dreadful idea. But… Where are they supposed to look?
Alexander groans quietly.
A shining Bentley pulls up outside the rescued second container. TYBURN, surprisingly under-dressed in just a simple pair of jeans and a coat, exits the car. Beverley and Alexander hurry to meet her, but she is focused solely on the opened doors of the container.
Rows upon rows upon rows of wooden crates are stacked inside. ABIGAIL and NUTT, clad in full biohazard suits, are rummaging through them, inspecting every single bottle of a murky, pinkish stuff, checking them for leakage.
TYBURN
(reserved)
How many?
Abigail turns around, but doesn’t pull off the helmet.
ABIGAIL
(professionally calm)
Around two thousand bottles.
(beat)
That would make—
(musingly)
Couple hundreds of litres.
Tyburn grimaces.
TYBURN
Is that a real deal?
NUTT
It looks similar to the sample we found in Patrick Foster’s lab under Ettersberg. But we still need to analyse it.
TYBURN
(to Nutt, suspiciously)
You are not sure.
Nutt clears his throat nervously.
NUTT
I’m struggling to imagine the scale of the operation that was able to produce the stuff in such quantities.
ABIGAIL
We might have a big problem on our hands if the stuff is real.
TYBURN
(sardonically)
Ah, well… The more, the merrier.
(after a pause)
Do you know what to do with it?
(beat)
If it is real?
ABIGAIL
Not really.
(beat)
This stuff shouldn’t exist. Shouldn’t be stored, either. Not even in the Met’s warehouse. It could be burglarised.
(beat)
Christian suggested a nuclear silo, if you can believe it. But I’m not too comfortable handing it over to the Army.
Tyburn chuckles lightly.
TYBURN
Thomas would’ve been proud of your attitude.
ABIGAIL
I hope so.
Beverley and Alexander join in.
BEVERLEY
I heard the Goblin’s sacred river can neutralise the stuff.
Nutt sighs.
NUTT
It doesn’t exactly neutralise it. It extracts certain components. But I don’t have enough of the water anyway. I need to talk to his Eminence. And I can’t imagine he will be thrilled.
TYBURN
(to Nutt)
If you need diplomatic help, give me a call.
Nutt nods hesitantly.
TYBURN
Beverley, may I have a word?
The two sisters stride away from the company. Seawoll watches them suspiciously.
4. INT. WAREHOUSE — EARLY MORNING
Abdul helps Peter to sit up properly. Peter grabs the edge of the ambulance stretcher as his head sways a bit.
PETER
What happened to me? Soul-bonding?
ABDUL
You nearly drowned. Spent too much time in the water.
(beat, then reluctantly)
Of course, the soul-bonding might’ve been the cause… But I am not inclined to consider it.
PETER
(surprised)
Why not?
ABDUL
(simply)
You are still alive.
PETER
Are we sure that it really works like that?
ABDUL
(wearily)
You know we are not. But you felt his pain. I assume you might’ve felt him dying as well.
Peter swallows tightly and looks away.
PETER
(after a pause, hoarsely)
So, let me guess, you didn’t whisk me to the hospital in order to keep me close, so I could feel him?
Abdul doesn’t respond.
PETER
(with a thin smile)
Good call.
ABDUL
(with a sigh)
Although futile, I take it.
Peter furrows his brows, listening to his… Soul.
PETER
(quietly, disappointed)
Yeah… I can’t sense him.
(grimaces)
It’s an awful feeling… I feel empty… Literally empty…
Abdul squeezes Peter’s shoulder to offer him some comfort. Peter clears his throat.
PETER
To whom do I owe for my rescue?
CAPTAIN TURNER (O.S.)
That would be me.
Peter turns in the direction of the voice. TURNER appears from behind another pyramid of wooden boxes, clad in what seems to be Abdul’s medical coat, dragging an IV stand with a bag.
CAPTAIN TURNER
And PC Huckleberry.
A small smile touches Peter’s lips.
PETER
(under his breath)
Of course.
(to Turner)
Thanks. Really.
CAPTAIN TURNER
Sure.
(beat)
I also tried to find the Captain… But he just—
PETER
Disappeared? Yeah.
CAPTAIN TURNER
What was it then? Magic?
PETER
I honestly don’t know. If it was… I’ve never encountered anything like that.
CAPTAIN TURNER
But wasn’t he like… A god of the stuff?
Peter suppresses a grimace, caused by the captain’s offhand usage of the past tense.
PETER
(quietly)
That he is.
5. EXT. WAREHOUSE — THE SAME
Tyburn glances at the warehouse’s door sceptically, but decides against moving any further, the glares Seawoll is shooting at them unsettle her.
TYBURN
(to Beverley, quietly)
You realise of course that if Nightingale is really dead… That might cause a lot of diplomatic issues.
BEVERLEY
(surprised)
And that concerns me how?
TYBURN
(patiently)
It concerns Peter.
Bev squints at her sister suspiciously.
BEVERLEY
What? You think I’ve inherited him now?
Tyburn lets out a long-suffering sigh.
BEVERLEY
Okay, fine. What the hell do you mean?
TYBURN
He’s not ready to be the Master of the Folly. Nightingale has been trying to spare him the destiny. He’s never gone into details about the agreements and arrangements with him. I suspect he doesn’t even know about the full list of the stakeholders.
(beat)
I want you to guide him through this.
BEVERLEY
‘kay. I’ll do it.
She glances at Tyburn, who doesn’t look like she’s done.
BEVERLEY
(a bit impatient)
Anything else? Because I still have a job to do.
She points at the Thames.
TYBURN
(hesitantly)
If Nightingale is dead… Magic should choose another god.
Bev frowns.
BEVERLEY
Do you honestly believe in this bollocks? Sentient magic, really?
TYBURN
Whether I believe in it or not, whether it is true or not, it doesn’t matter. It happened before.
Beverley groans.
BEVERLEY
Well, there is this mad Russian witch. They have suspected her to be a dangerously suitable candidate.
TYBURN
Yes, I know about her. And have already put a detail on her.
BEVERLEY
(surprised)
She is in the UK?
TYBURN
No. But that’s exactly the point. Who knows how many other dangerously suitable candidates are here right now.
Bev massages the bridge of her nose.
BEVERLEY
They are not equipped to turn the entire island upside-down, looking for the potential next god.
TYBURN
I know. I already called Oxley. He will liaise with the allied rivers, we’ll try to organise the preliminary search by ourselves.
(beat, then hesitantly)
But there is also a possibility that Peter has survived the severed soul-bonding for a reason.
Beverley stares at her sister.
BEVERLEY
You are tripping!
TYBURN
(quietly)
Think about it, Beverley. Soul-bonding is a two-way street. He had a part of Nightingale inside him.
(beat)
However dreadful this sounds.
(beat)
Perhaps the cunning b—… Wizard came up with something for such eventuality, after all the portal scares.
Bev runs her hand across her face tiredly.
TYBURN
Peter’s magic worked in Fairyland.
BEVERLEY
(suspiciously)
How do you know?
TYBURN
He told the Commissioner.
BEVERLEY
Yeah, but how do you know?
Ty gives her sister an unimpressed look.
BEVERLEY
(irritated)
So what? Are you suggesting I should spy on him?
TYBURN
(unfazed)
No. I’m suggesting you keep an eye on him.
BEVERLEY
And the difference is?
Tyburn scowls.
BEVERLEY
(wearily)
God, Tyburn! You are so accustomed to other people doing your dirty work for you, aren’t you.
And with that, Beverley turns around and strides back towards the pier, leaving an affronted Tyburn to fume in silence.
6. INT. WAREHOUSE — THE SAME
Peter buckles up his jeans, puts on his hoodie and starts tying up his Converses.
PETER
(to Abdul)
Do you want me to head to UCH?
ABDUL
I don’t see the need. You are stable and seem to be fine.
(beat, then serious)
But if anything changes, you call me right away.
PETER
(with a faint smile)
Roger that.
(beat)
What about the kids?
ABDUL
I sent them away. Jennifer and Damien took care of them. They’re fine… As far as I know. They might as well be at the Folly by now.
Peter frowns.
PETER
(sombrely)
I hope not. They are not ready to face the distraught Molly.
ABDUL
(with a sorrowful sigh)
Do you think she might’ve felt something?
PETER
(thoughtfully)
She might have…
(beat)
But good luck interrogating her about it.
7. EXT. WAREHOUSE — LATER
Tyburn is about to get inside her Bentley when Peter emerges from the warehouse and calls after her.
PETER
What are you doing here?
(beat)
Gloating?
The river goddess fixes him with an unimpressed glare.
TYBURN
(sharply)
Do I look particularly pleased?
Peter bites his tongue, but still gives her a demanding eyebrow. Tyburn rolls her eyes.
TYBURN
You realise that if he doesn’t reappear… Soon, you are going to need my help.
PETER
Will I also need to jump through the agreement hoops to prevent the Folly from being shut down? Or am I already the acting Master?
TYBURN
(reluctantly)
For now, you are.
(beat)
And as long as you are alive… We do not seize the premise.
PETER
(sarcastically)
That’s very generous of you.
TYBURN
(serious)
Peter, I would advise you to find another target for your grief and frustration. Don’t alienate your allies and stakeholders.
PETER
Who’s grieving?
TYBURN
(meaningfully)
I hope you heard me.
Finally, she climbs into the car. The Bentley makes a smooth U-turn and hurries away. Seawoll approaches slowly.
SEAWOLL
What was that about?
PETER
(nonchalantly)
Agreements and stakeholders.
The DSI grunts quietly.
PETER
Any progress on your end?
SEAWOLL
(grimly)
No. The Rivers are still trying to sniff him out. But to be honest with you, they are not particularly hopeful.
PETER
Is Bev here?
SEAWOLL
She has just gone back to sweep the perimeter again.
He hands a plastic bag with Nightingale’s sword over to Peter, who stares at it for a long moment, before taking it.
PETER
(discouraged)
So, you don’t need me here.
SEAWOLL
Everything is under control. Abigail and Mr Blakely came up with some plan—
PETER
(suspiciously)
That doesn’t sound like under control to me.
SEAWOLL
You are going to learn to trust your people, Peter.
Peter lets the slightly patronising comment slide, too tired to argue.
SEAWOLL
Go see your other apprentices. They need you more right now.
Peter nods hopelessly.
PETER
(quietly)
Thanks.
SEAWOLL
Of course.
Alexander pats Peter’s shoulder in a comforting, fatherly gesture. Peter suppresses a grimace. He doesn’t like to be pitied.
FADE OUT
OPENING TITLES
FADE IN:
8. INT. THE FOLLY — ATRIUM — DAY
Peter shuffles through the main doors to be met only by a dejected FRANK, who is sitting at the empty table. The Para looks up, obviously surprised to see Peter.
FRANK
(hoarsely, almost monotonic)
Mrs Huckleberry has gone home. Her husband was worried. The kids were cleared by Dr Vaughan. They are hiding in the tech cave now.
PETER
(quietly)
And Molly?
Frank doesn’t speak, but offers a meaningful look as Peter places the bag with the sword on the table.
PETER
(under his breath)
Right…
(beat)
I’m fine, by the way.
Frank huffs.
FRANK
(under his breath)
So, I’ve gathered.
Peter pauses on his way to the basement stairs.
PETER
Excuse me?
FRANK
(innocently)
Amelia told me that you’ve been taken care of.
PETER
(hiding his suspicion)
Ah… Yeah.
As Peter descends the basement stairs, he can feel Frank’s gaze bearing a hole in the back of his head.
9. INT. THE FOLLY — KITCHEN — LATER
Peter pauses at the threshold of the empty kitchen, staring at the fridge. His treacherous mind is forcing on him the memories of Thomas’s expensive trousers accentuating his fit backside as the owner is rummaging through the metal monstrosity of an industrial-like double door refrigerator, looking for comforting snacks for him — Peter.
Peter shakes himself out of his grim reverie, puts the cattle on and looks into the fridge in search of the comforting snacks himself.
10. INT. THE FOLLY — ATRIUM — LATER
When Peter comes back with an unfinished half of a ham and cheese sandwich in his hand, Frank is nowhere to be seen.
The active Master of the Folly looks around, expecting the Paras to have packed up and left, but he can still see the silhouettes of the two guarding the main and the back doors. Peter hums musingly, stuffs his mouth with the rest of his sandwich and strides towards the Eastern staircase.
11. INT. THE FOLLY — MASTER PARLOUR — LATER
Peter walks into the parlour, carrying a big stack of David’s notes. He deposits them on the coffee table, flicks his fingers to lit up the fireplace and approaches the liquor cabinet. He grabs the best Scotch decanter and a tumbler, and then reaches behind the row of bottles, looking for Thomas's smoking stash. He retrieves a pack of cigarettes and an ashtray and shuffles back to the chair.
Once settled, he pours himself some whisky, pulls one cigarette out of the pack and then looks at it for a long moment, before clicking his fingers once again. He inhales the smoke and instantly a coughing fit overwhelms him. Peter chuckles, blinking the tears away.
And that's when a knock comes at the door. Frank peeks inside. He studies Peter suspiciously, but then notices the ledgers and frowns.
FRANK
(nodding at the books)
What's this?
PETER
(unfazed)
Research.
FRANK
(bewildered)
Of what?
PETER
Apparition.
Frank's frown increases. He almost gapes at the young wizard. Peter takes another puff, it comes smoother this time.
FRANK
(hesitantly)
Peter… Are you sure… you are processing… all of this… right?
Peter raises his brows at the Para defiantly.
PETER
Are you… parenting me, Frank?
(beat)
You think the commanding officer is… dead, and now it's your turn to keep an eye on… the Drama Queen?
Frank grimaces.
PETER
(with a wry smile)
Yeah, I heard you.
The Para leader doesn't offer neither an apology nor an explanation, so after a few moments of a charged silence, Peter continues.
PETER
And what the hell do you mean by right?
(beat)
Is there a right way to process—
(swallows)
The death of… your literal soulmate?
(on a roll)
Have the NHS issued a guideline for this specific case, and I haven't heard about it?!
Frank winces.
FRANK
(quietly, slightly ashamed)
No, of course not.
(beat)
I'm sorry… it didn't come out—
PETER
(sardonically)
Right? Yes.
They stay silent for a long moment. Then Frank opens his mouth to say something, but Peter beats him to it.
PETER
If you believe he is dead… then you should accept that I am the Master of the Folly now.
Frank narrows his eyes, sensing a trap.
PETER
(flatly)
The threat has been neutralised.
(pause, then a bit Nightingale-ish)
You and your people are dismissed, Lieutenant.
Frank blinks, but then reluctantly straightens up.
FRANK
(dryly)
Sir!
Peter ignores the Para's rather ironic salute and takes a sip of his drink as Frank leaves the parlour.
12. INT. TECH CAVE — DAY
The apprentices camp out in the tech cave with a bunch of takeaways. They are definitely not hiding from Peter… or Molly. Nope.
SAMANTHA picks at her fried rice, she doesn't feel particularly hungry. And neither do her colleagues.
SAMANTHA
(with a sigh)
So, what do we do?
(beat)
To help the Sarge, I mean.
KYLE
(quietly)
He doesn't believe Nightingale is dead.
Sam looks at him in surprise.
KYLE
(with a shrug)
I overheard Dr Vaughan and Dr Walid sharing their concerns on the phone.
AMELIA stubs her food with a fork.
AMELIA
(hesitantly)
To be honest with you… I'm not sure, either.
Sam frowns.
SAMANTHA
(to Amelia)
What do you mean? You saw what happened.
AMELIA
Exactly. Dead bodies don't dissolve in water.
(beat)
And granted, it was dark when the Sarge went in. But if even Beverley and her sisters couldn't find him… And Mama Thames, apparently, didn't feel anything.
SAMANTHA
(to Amelia)
How do you know?
AMELIA
(simply)
She would've saved him.
SAMANTHA
Why? To pay off her debt?
Amelia shakes her head.
AMELIA
To avoid competition.
Her colleagues look blankly at her.
AMELIA
He… is the strongest conductor. His blood is pure magic. Imagine how much vestigia could be released upon his death.
Kyle and Sam gulp.
KYLE
(tentatively)
So what are you saying?
AMELIA
(thoughtfully)
I'm saying—
She looks around the tech cave, her gaze wanders over the pile of laptops on the desk.
AMELIA
—Where the hell is Abigail when you need her?
13. INT. NUTT'S HOUSE — LAB — THE SAME
Nutt places a bottle of the Bobayghan river’s water near a bottle of Agent 42. A Petri dish is ready in front of him, the gas-mask at hand. But the Goblin alchemist still pauses.
Abigail, her mask is hanging from her neck, looks at him thoughtfully.
ABIGAIL
So, what's your bet?
Nutt blinks at her as he comes out of his stupor.
NUTT
I dunno. But it's hard for me to imagine where they could possibly gather so much werewolf blood.
ABIGAIL
(with a shrug)
Supposing they were cooking it with Mama Thames in mind… They wouldn't have to confuse the NHS, would they? Maybe they have just forgone the blood.
NUTT
(still somewhat tense)
Maybe… But what about the Sponge Bobs?
(emphatically)
How much do you think they would need to produce two hundred litres?
ABIGAIL
(musingly)
Point. Do you think your people would've noticed?
Nutt huffs dryly.
NUTT
My people should've massacred the bastards.
Abigail squints at him.
ABIGAIL
Is that why you are so tense? You think your people are involved?
Nutt bites his lip.
ABIGAIL
Alright, go on then, tell me what the hell is this.
They put on their masks. Nutt opens the bottle with the murky, pinkish stuff and pours a healthy amount of it into the Petri dish. Then he adds a few pipettes of the water… When nothing happens immediately, he lets out a small breath of relief. Abigail glances at him.
ABIGAIL
So what? It's a dud?
NUTT
Let's marinade it a bit. Just to make sure.
He moves the Petri dish to the kitchen counter and covers it with a thick-glass microwave pot. Both of them remove their masks as Nutt grabs a vial with a dirty-green Thames water from the row. He produces another Petri dish from under the table and empties the vial into it. Abigail leans over to take a whiff.
ABIGAIL
(thoughtfully)
There is something other than Mama Thames here.
NUTT
Nightingale?
ABIGAIL
No.
NUTT
Okay. How about that?
He pours two pipettes of the Goblin tears into the dish. The magic begins to boil. The smell of sewage, rotting fish and burning petrol attacks them at first, but then a barely distinct tick-tocking… and a strange whiff of something not particularly there that leaves an unpleasant, cold feeling at the back of one's throat.
Both Abi and Nutt swallow, grimacing.
ABIGAIL
(musingly)
I felt something similar before.
(beat)
In the Folly.
NUTT
The no-forma?
ABIGAIL
No. The no-forma is just a wave of power that instills awe in you. You can sense it off any genius loci. This is something specific.
NUTT
But Beverley mentioned something about a sense of your breath being taken away. That's not it.
ABIGAIL
(musingly)
No… But we are not the rivers. They smell some magic differently.
(beat)
Which means, this is not Newtonian… or natural.
NUTT
Any ideas?
ABIGAIL
(with a grimace)
Not really. But I shall look for it.
She glances behind Nutt, at the kitchen counter and the marinading murky stuff. Nutt follows her gaze. He turns around reluctantly, putting his gas-mask on again…
But he doesn't have to. The liquid is as murky and undisturbed as it was. There is nothing in it.
NUTT
(relieved)
No stones.
Abigail looks over his shoulder. Her face, although also a bit relieved, seems more conflicted.
ABIGAIL
(quietly, a bit bitterly)
So, it was just a ruse…
(beat)
Nightingale might have died for nothing…
Nutt wills his artificial features to muster an appropriately solemn expression. He glances at the Folly's scientific adviser with sympathy.
FADE TO BLACK