Previously on Sleepy Hollow...
You owe me answers.
Being thrust into a world you never knew existed
can be unnerving.
Why did you leave the military?
I had a baby, Molly.
She's ten. She stopped talking.
It's an archive of unexplained phenomena
We call it "the Vault."
I do news, and Alex does artifacts and machines.
This is the secret history of America.
There really is no amount of blood
that I won't spill to get the rest of these.
I met some new people today at work.
Complete weirdoes,
which means you'll probably like 'em.
Lieutenant?
Abbie?
Lieutenant?!
Lieutenant?
Reveal yourself!
Oh!
Who are you?
Miss Jenny.
You may desist.
Wow.
That was deep.
How long was I under?
Well, it's tomorrow now, so...
Good Lord.
Uh, my apologies.
Mysticism is...
not an exact science.
So, did the Singing Bowl rite reveal anything of interest?
Uh, it, was... a little more
puzzling than definitive.
Right, well, like you said, it's not an exact science.
The Singing Bowl was the closest thing
I could find to a new Witness detector.
It's been used for centuries by the followers
of the Dalai Lama to track down
the inheritor of his role and responsibilities.
And as the "Mantle of Witness"
has been passed from Abbie to...
to another.
A girl.
I saw a girl.
Uh, she was...
Uh, she was no more than ten or 11 years, and she'd...
I'd not seen her before.
But there was something familiar.
I need air.
Should we try again?
No.
I think...
we should allow ourselves some time
to recapitulate.
Miss Jenny,
it should not go unsaid...
I do appreciate you relocating for me.
Abbie was your partner, but she was my sister.
Whoever this new Witness is, they're gonna benefit
from what I know about the experience.
And a change of scenery would be good for me, so...
Hmm, and it is scenery worthy of
Nebuchadnezzar himself.
Yeah, my friend Larry owns it, so it was dirt cheap.
Plus, the sound of heavy machinery
puts me to sleep like nothing else.
Well, it is very...
you.
This girl you saw;
visions are often more figurative
than they are literal.
I've got a book on interpretations
of Bhakti trances.
I'll give it a look and see
if there's anything we missed.
And our newly discovered Vault
should hold some valuable answers as well.
Can you just walk in there?
It's not exactly a public library.
Well, Washington intended for me to use its content.
And I intend to honor his wishes.
Then good hunting.
You can't brush this off.
And you can't keep hounding me, Donaldson.
You broke ground in my district
without going through proper channels.
Oh, is that what this is all about?
Aw, you feel disrespected.
A situation you would do well to remedy.
Do you know how many green energy subcommittees I sit on?
I'm-I'm a little confused.
So you really, really think I care?
You better start!
You've been digging, Dreyfuss.
So have I.
You talk a good game on environmental issues,
but your construction crews are still...
tearing up farms,
forests, protected wetlands.
You're up to something,
and it's not saving the planet.
Well, how about this? How about you
run along back to that district of yours
and start crowing about all the jobs
that our partnership is gonna create,
and then, how about you get down on your knees
and pray that what my people dig up out of the ground
is not...
your body.
Mr. Dreyfuss,
you're late for your morning meeting.
Now, if you'll excuse me, sir,
I have a meeting to get to that actually matters.
The Dagger of Z'urn D'oragh
is easily the most sought-after accursed blade
in the whole history of witchcraft.
My treasure in exchange for yours.
Legend has it that the edge of this blade
brings death to all it cuts.
A deal like this only comes along once in a century.
And you ladies, of all people,
you know I'm not blowing the proverbial smoke, right?
We will not hand over the Witch Stone.
Sisters...
perhaps we should return to the world.
We've been away for so very long.
We can't.
Protecting the Witch Stone is our sacred duty.
Uh, excuse me.
I'm so sorry to interrupt,
but W-Witch Stone? Is that...?
That's really what you call it?
'Cause, I mean, y-you do know that what you're guarding
actually has nothing whatsoever to do with witches, don't you?
- Leave now, mortal, or die. - What do you mean
nothing to do with us?
Well, uh, let me put it this way.
Your predilection is for detecting liars, right?
Yeah?
Am I lying?
He speaks the truth!
For nearly 300 years, you have lied to us!
It was for your own good.
You betrayed us.
Our kind was being hunted.
The human commander made me an offer
I knew you would never agree to.
With wicked tongue...
the serpent lied
and took their liberty. Through poison words,
the world knew sin. Our hand will set you free.
Yes, sir, I'm, uh...
I'm out the door now.
The concept of pancakes was not a bad one.
It is the actual making of them that I find challenging.
So, back to our staple, cold cereal.
Yay.
On the plus side,
since you aren't talking, you can't complain.
Hey. Hey, sorry. Came as quick as I could.
- Thank you. She hasn't eaten breakfast. - Yeah. Okay.
She has finished her homework, right?
Just make sure she's packed some gym clothes.
Okay.
Nanny Clara's gonna drive you in.
I'll pick you up
from after school.
All right.
I don't know how we'd get through any of this without you.
I'm sure it's just a phase.
That's what the pediatrician said.
I just hope it's one of the ones on the shorter side.
Yeah.
Molly?
I love you.
Have a good day.
Yeah.
Rockin'
yesterday's clothes?
Could this be finally evidence of a walk of shame?
Mm-mm. A walk of triumph.
Mm-hmm. I was up all night trying
to map the rest of these tunnels.
These passageways led to the crypt
of Demon John Wilkes Booth.
Demon Booth.
I mean, can you believe
we have been sitting
just ten feet away from a labyrinth of secrets,
just waiting to be discovered.
Or waiting to kill us.
Mm.
Very funny.
Yeah, I don't do funny.
Oh. Oh.
Ready or not.
Good morning.
Apologies for the intrusion.
Apparently, I lack the necessary clearance badge
to access your department through more civilized means.
Uh, not a problem, at all.
You are more than welcome anytime, okay?
Uh, got a badge we can give him, right?
Uh...
due to a general lack of visitors,
we usually use them to prop up a table in the kitchen.
Uh, how can the Vault be of service, hmm?
Books.
I require any books you possess
on dreams and prophecy,
for I must unravel a mystery presented to me
in a vision conjured by a mystical Tibetan Singing Bowl.
Be right back.
Do not move!
Everything we've got on prophetic visions and dreams.
- Yeah. - Anything else you need?
Not presently.
You know, it might pay
to familiarize yourself with the Secret Histories over there.
Mm-hmm.
Supernatural threats lurk in every corner,
and those volumes could provide clues as to how to defeat them.
Well, problem is they're encrypted.
- Ah. - Mm-hmm.
Fortunately, I had time
to write out the cipher for that code on my Uber ride.
Done and done.
A little scuffed but none the worse for wear.
You possess an indefatigable kindness, Miss Alex.
Just "Alex," no "Miss."
And, um, did you really have a prophetic dream,
as in seeing the future?
Perhaps.
I seek to discover a legacy.
All that remains of an important piece of my past.
Cool.
I'm gonna be in the other room checking my Tinder.
Agent Thomas.
How may I be of assistance?
This area is going to be
swarming with techs and three kinds of local
law enforcement in 15 minutes, and I have no earthly
explanation for why I've called you to the scene.
The fact that this body has an unearthly element is precisely
- why you called me. - Against my better judgment.
And yet here I am.
And now you have 14 minutes before the techs arrive.
And counting.
Our victim...
stab wounds in the back,
tongue cut out. Now, normally,
that would point to Santeria and Wiccan rites.
And, normally, I would send photos of her wounds
and tattoos, see what we can get. But...
then there's this.
Whatever this is.
What you are seeing is known as a "Glamour";
a method of mystical camouflage
used since the persecutions in Salem.
As in the Salem witch trials?
The very same.
It would appear the practice of witchcraft
is alive and thriving in our nation's capital.
Subtitle sync and corrections by awaqeded for www.addic7ed.com.
We need to wrap this up.
Is your dead witch dangerous?
She's not gonna wake up in the morgue van
and start killing people, is she?
Stranger things have happened.
But no.
I see no signs of necromancy.
Right, 'cause that's a word people use.
As long as the weirdness ends here, I'm fine with it.
I'm afraid the weirdness has only just begun.
I know this woman.
- I'm sorry, what? - As you are aware,
my expertise are not only supernatural but historical,
particularly in regards to Sleepy Hollow,
where I believe
this woman visited.
A very long time ago.
In the latter half of the Revolutionary War,
spies and traitors were everywhere.
A British officer named John Andre,
accused of spying, was delivered to General Washington
while garrisoned at Sleepy Hollow.
Has he told us anything?
I'm afraid that would be impossible, General.
Major Andre.
He arrived in this condition.
Tongue cut from his mouth.
Though he could not speak,
papers in Andre's possession led to the discovery
of Benedict Arnold's treachery.
Both men met with the ultimate penalty for their crime.
According to the account of one of Washington's aides,
the general paid thanks to Andre's capture not to soldiers
or to bounty hunters
but to a trio of women,
the Dyer Sisters,
led by one Moll Dyer.
This brand belongs to a particular coven.
They were employed to use their magics to sniff out liars.
Our Jane Doe is one of the Dyer Sisters?
I believe her to be Moll Dyer, their leader.
Right, a leader of a lie-detecting coven
weaponized by George Washington.
Right.
Maybe that's why he couldn't tell a lie.
Not to Martha, that's for sure.
The question is,
why, after all this time,
was Moll Dyer murdered? And by whom?
Well, she was stabbed, right? That's intimate.
The assailant was able to walk right up to her.
The wounds being everywhere except her face, uh,
that suggests a preexisting history with the killer.
Or, judging by the depth and placement of the wounds,
killers.
Moll Dyer was murdered by the other two members of her coven.
And you have your first lead.
Hey, don't pop the champagne yet.
If this isn't a one-time crime of passion,
they will kill again.
Charlie, it's me.
I need an APB on female suspects
with a unique tattoo.
I'm sending it to you now.
So much has changed in these last 300 years, sister.
And it appears that much has not.
Hello there, ladies.
Do we have any plans for the evening?
Listen, my buddy and I here, we have access to this exclusive
black-tie Beltway thingy. Are you interested?
Make up a name.
That way she can't find you tomorrow.
Tell my wife I have to stay late at work.
I wonder how many drinks they've had.
They totally believe us... Have to make sure she...
Sister, what do you think of our suitors?
I think they stink of lies.
Lies they use to hide their betrayals.
These two have wives
and children at home.
Loved ones they betray by spending their nights
with woman after woman.
I think it's time we taught them the error
of their ways.
With wicked tongue,
the serpent lied
and took their liberty.
Through poison words, the world knew sin.
Our hand will set you free.
This city truly is a modern marvel.
Pretty special.
Iconic architecture on every corner.
Oh, it's not simply the buildings,
but the promise they hold.
It is the beating heart of democracy.
A forum for public discourse
and the intricacies of the rule of law.
Yards of beer.
Well, once the case is closed,
present your second and name the place.
Why do you know so much about witches anyway?
I was married to one.
Let me guess...
Everything was great,
until it wasn't.
Mm.
And young Miss Molly's father?
Ah.
Raising a daughter alone
cannot be easy.
It's a marathon, not a sprint.
This phase of hers,
the sudden silence, is there a history of it in the family?
Not that I know of.
And she's such a talker, too. She...
To anyone... adults, kids her own age, even strangers.
She always has something to say.
Two weeks ago, she just stopped.
Huh. APB just got a hit on a crime scene across town.
The girl from the vision is Diane's daughter?
So it would seem.
She...
she may hold some manner of message
that could aid us in our quest to find the next Witness.
Crane,
I don't think she holds anything.
I think she is the message.
I've been going over some
of the more complicated translations.
It turns out the ritual wasn't used to track down
the next Dalai Lama, but rather
to reveal who would
next bear the mantle of his responsibility.
Molly is the next Witness.
The Witness is a kid.
How is that even possible?
What are we supposed to do with that?
That one so young
would be thrust into so fraught a destiny.
Everything okay?
Uh, yes. Yes, of course.
I was merely conversing with Miss Jenny
- with regards to, um... - Go sports, Crane.
- Sports. - Knicks' new draft pick.
Nick. Nick has just been picked for the new draft,
which is superlative news.
I'm a great admirer of-of his sporting.
Nice try, Crane. I'll talk to you later.
Uh, yep. Bye-bye.
I, uh, never pegged you for a sports fan.
Well, my tastes are nothing if not eclectic.
So, was this the work of our witches?
An eyewitness
said these two young,
attractive women
fled the scene.
Indeed, they would appear young to the naked eye.
Glamour is a magic that predates modern technology.
So that's why my phone and these cameras can see through it?
Precisely.
This is a classic escalation pattern.
And there you have it.
Witches with a taste for lies
and a need to uncover betrayal are loose in our capital city.
A hotbed of dishonesty and backstabbing.
You know witches. What's the play?
Uh... we must uncover their scent.
Theoretically, Glamour requires time and energy to maintain.
No doubt, our Witches Gone Wild will need to revivify.
I've never seen gingerbread houses on Zillow,
so how do we find them?
All right, the only evidence a Moll Dyer existed
is from a local immigration record filed
by a ship's captain named Thomas Taylor.
The only thing is it wasn't just Moll's name.
Uh, there were two other names under "Dyer."
A Marg and Malligo.
So three Dyer sisters total.
The next step is to consult the Secret Histories
on their precise relationship with General Washington.
There may be a clue as to where they lay their heads.
Already on it. See, Washington paid the Dyers
for uncovering John Andre's treachery
with a plot of land.
A pretty big one,
protected in perpetuity by the Fed,
- way out off of Route 50. - That's where Moll Dyer's body
was found in the first place.
There may have been something we missed.
Capital work, Master Wells.
Okay,
I just need to make a quick pit stop
on the way to the wetlands.
Don't be fooled by his, uh,
genteel accent and all the bowing.
There's more to Crane than he's letting on.
Okay, I-I see what's going on here.
You're just jelly
because, uh, teacher didn't give you a gold star, too.
Hmm?
You know how I like to take machines apart
to see how they work?
- Mm-hmm. - Same thing goes for people.
That accent... "Capital work, Master Wells"...
anachronistic inflection and syntax.
- That jacket, those boots. - It's a choice.
He's living la vida lifestyle from a simpler time.
His name appears in recorded history only before 1781.
1781. Then he disappears without a trace
until he shows up again in Sleepy Hollow three years ago.
Okay, so there has to be more than one person
named Ichabod Crane in all of human history, Alex.
I checked with Interpol
and the FBI and every genealogy Web site I could subscribe to.
He's the only Ichabod.
Period.
Do you think...?
He's a time traveler.
He is a time travel...
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
How would you even build
a time machine in 1781?
Out of whale blubber and wooden teeth?
I don't know what his deal is.
Not yet.
But just keep your eyes peeled.
Ichabod Crane is keeping secrets.
Is that her?
Yeah, that's her.
Hey.
It's the quiet girl.
This an attention thing?
Or just a really stupid way
to try and get out of homework?
Bet she can cry real loud though.
Hey!
How about we even the odds?
Mean girls.
You okay?
Here, come on.
This'll just take a second.
What the hell?
Molly.
Oh, my God.
What happened?
You okay?
Did you do this?
No, no, I, I just got...
Why are you even here?
Uh...
I, uh...
Crane asked about Molly,
you two have a little phone conversation
and then you just show up here?!
Just let me explain.
You two come into my life...
I hardly know him
and I sure as hell do not know you.
Hello.
Honey?
Oh, my God.
I was on the green bench.
Where you always hid away.
You were late and these two girls
from the eighth grade...
mm, they were being really mean,
and one of them pushed me
and that's what happened.
I'm sorry.
You have nothing to be sorry about, okay?
And, hey, we got through it
together, like always.
Okay?
You really need to get back to work, don't you?
My case is not closed.
Okay.
I will be home as soon as humanly possible.
Mm, it's okay, Mom.
It's really okay.
Come here.
Oh, baby.
You better still be talking by the time I get home.
I promise.
I'm sorry.
When we figured out that
that little girl had inherited
Abbie's responsibility, I...
I needed to see her.
She's not Abbie.
I know that.
Believe me, I do.
My sister being a Witness
tore my family apart.
We need to help Diana
and her daughter understand this.
Get through it.
Agreed.
But how?
How does one bring an innocent child
into the battle between good and evil?
Probably not by just showing up at her school.
Crane.
You said you had an explanation.
Let's hear it.
Agent Thomas, you have our apologies.
We fully understand
your concern in finding Miss Jenny here.
The truth is we were concerned for her safety.
The people who took Crane and released that Booth demon
are still out there somewhere.
I thought I would do a sweep at this place
and make sure no one had eyes on your daughter,
but I overstepped my bounds.
I am sorry.
You should have asked.
Understand?
Then let's go find these witches
and put them down so I can go home.
Any sign of a witch lair?
It's nothing but swamp for miles.
All right.
Moll Dyer's body lay here.
Must have just killed her and dumped her.
Right on their own doorstep.
There's nothing here, Crane.
The Glamour not only hid the Dyer sisters'
true appearance...
but their dwellings, as well.
Come.
Our witch hunt
is nearing its conclusion.
A body was dragged through here.
Most likely Moll Dyer's.
Check the place?
Yes.
Be wary.
So...
said you were gonna sweep
my daughter's school.
Don't tell me you work security.
Well, I've dealt
with all kinds of security systems.
Ugh, great.
I am in an invisible witch house
with a B&E artist
and a guy wearing knee-high boots
with a crossbow.
We are uniquely equipped to deal with supernatural threats.
This room's yours.
From the size and shape,
I think we're looking at the murder weapon.
The Dagger of Z'urn D'oragh.
It's beautiful.
No, no, don't touch.
One cut and you're toast.
I don't think anyone's home.
And yet the Glamour on the house remains in place.
I'll warrant that the Dyer sisters
are in possession of an Infernal Machine.
Let me guess? More magic?
It's a witch thing.
A mundane object
powered up with their magic
can keep a spell alive for a long time.
So, we disable it,
we disable them?
It could weaken them
or it could whip them
into a killing frenzy.
50/50.
Not bad odds.
- No! - No!
What did I do?
I doubt it is good.
I think you tripped their home security system.
So, we... shut it off
There must be a way to disable it.
Agent Thomas!
My sister will punish her for sullying our property.
Go and help her.
Hmm.
I know you.
From many years ago.
No.
I doubt we run in the same circles.
You're a liar, old man.
You spoiled our night out.
We were painting the town
a deep, dark...
red.
You like lies?
I lie to myself daily.
Tell myself I know who I am,
what I'm doing,
where my life is going.
The truth.
How refreshing.
But still...
you ruined our fun.
Ah.
Yes.
You're one of Washington's men,
in service, like us,
to the one who trapped us here,
guarding his damnable treasure.
I know nothing of your treasure.
But whatever noble deed you did, you have long since
lost your way.
Your heart is full of lies.
Lies of omission,
lies about...
...a little girl.
Well, no more lies
once your tongue slithers from your mouth.
With wicked tongue, the serpent lied
and took their liberty.
Through poison words, the world knew sin...
No!
You good?
I'm not gonna lie.
I don't like witches.
I need a minute.
How did she fare?
Well enough.
She can handle this.
Well, then that settles it.
Tonight...
we'll tell her the truth about her daughter.
I went back to the house to take a closer
an Infernal Machine and, um, yeah, I found this
in what was left.
There are two documents in there
dated October 2, 1780.
- And... - The day John Andre was hanged
and the day Washington promised the Dyer sisters
their plot of land.
The other one is dated 1781,
also from Washington,
when he charged them with standing watch
over a talisman.
I searched the house, top to bottom,
and I couldn't find it.
One of the witches mentioned a treasure
they'd been tasked with protecting.
"The plot will be yours in perpetuity
"so long as it
"remains safe.
The Division must endure."
Hmm, see, after I cracked that little bit of Franklin's code,
I recognized some of the cipher
from somewhere else.
These are from the crypt where the Booth demon was caged.
Yep.
"The Division must endure."
So, the two events were connected.
"The Division"...
that sounds like a spy outfit.
If the Division used the Dyer sisters to stand watch
over some manner of arcane artifact,
it stands to reason
that the Booth demon was doing the same.
Someone is unleashing unspeakable evils
as a means of procuring mystical artifacts.
Whom and to what end?
Great questions
for tomorrow
when I promise I will help you
hit the ground running, but right now
my little girl's waiting for me.
All right.
Time... traveler.
Breakfast for dinner?
Oh!
Your favorite.
Perfect.
That's it.
From now on, you're making dinner every night.
I don't know what it was.
Why I didn't want to say anything.
I... I just felt strange.
Like...
like a shadow walked over my shadow...
like a friend
was... gone.
We're not gonna tell them tonight, are we?
You know me so well, Miss Jenny.
Molly is the next Witness.
Diana deserves to know
what that means...
for their present and their future.
But not tonight.
Mother and daughter deserve at least one night's peace.
Ah...
I spent months fine-tuning the lighting in here.
We still don't have it quite right.
What about track lighting?
What do you mean?
Super '90s style, little bulbs on rails?
You philistine.
So...
where are we on finding Ichabod Crane's compatriot?
He's headed this way
and if his reputation holds true...
death and destruction will follow.
Subtitle sync and corrections by awaqeded for www.addic7ed.com.