The Lost Son | Ferry's Tale # 2

Endings. Beginnings

The next day, everything turned to normal in Goodharts. The employees returned to the mansion and their work as if nothing had happened. As if all the horrors, all the pain, and suffering that filled the maze just one night ago were just a bad dream. The guests had left the mansion long before the employees returned. The last room on the third floor was empty.

And yet no news came from Tenalach. No one knew anything about their fairy friends or Ben's sister. And that was the last day before the door between the worlds closed.

Ferry spent the entire day lying in his attic room, his eyes to the ceiling. His father told Ol' Joseph he would not come to work because he was ill. He tried to sleep a few times. But every time he closed his eyes, the image of Kian dying came to his mind, again and again. He looked at his hands. He still couldn't believe his magic finally emerged. That it was so strong, unpredictable, and dangerous. Instead, he knew what that meant. Ferry let out a deep sigh. It meant his departure from Goodharts was close. And that he had to leave behind everything and everyone he knew and loved, and fight for a place and people he didn't even know.

His thoughts were interrupted by knocks on the door. Who could it be? He received greetings from Matilda and Ben through his father who insisted he needed rest, not visits. He went down the stairs, leaning against the walls. His father was right -- he did need rest.

He opened the front door and his heart skipped a beat when he caught sight of Billy. He was pale and had dark circles under his eyes. He didn't sleep after last night either, Ferry could tell.

"Can I come in?" Billy asked. "Is your father home?"

Ferry let him in, and went to call his father from the workshop. Peter came in and looked at Billy as confused as Ferry.

"Master Pride ... How can I help you?"

Billy handed him an old paper. "I talked to my father," he said in a low voice. "He said you should read this."

Peter frowned and began to read. As he read, his hands began to tremble.

"What is this?" 

"Look at the date," said Billy.

Peter checked the date and the paper fell out of his hand. "It's the year my son was born ..."

Ferry picked up the paper and read it, too -- it was Billy's certificate of adoption.

Billy lowered his gaze. Peter stepped closer, and looked at his face. Tears filled his eyes.

"How come I haven't seen it before?" he whispered. "You look just like her ..."

Billy looked up at his father. In his sky-blued eyes, Peter could see Eileen. He reached out and wanted to stroke his son's hair. But Billy retreated from his touched, took a few steps back, then left the house in a run.

Ferry ran after him. He managed to catch up with him. Billy stopped and leaned against a tree on the side of the street, barely breathing.

"Billy, what happened?"

"I'm sorry, Ferry. I just can't," he said.

"You need more time," Ferry said softly. "You both do ..."

Billy shook his head. "It's not that. It's just-- I don't care that my father isn't my real father. That I'm not blood from his blood. He's always going to be my father. I'm always going to be a Pride, Ferry. And you will always be a Donovan, even if you're a-- fairy... " Billy said softly.

Ferry felt his heart break again. He swallowed hard at the lump in his throat. "I didn't kill Kian, Billy," he finally said. "I need you to believe me."