Page 88 of Sing Sweet Nightingale

“Yes. The fairies have dust that their wings produce that can be used to do many things. Giving people the sight is one of them.”

“Oh my god,” I said, turning to face him. I can’t believe what he just said to me. “You have fairy dust? Like Tinker Bell?”

He chuckles again. I know I probably sound like a child, but how could I not? He just told me he’s going to use dust from a fairy’s wing to magically give me the ability to see non-humans as they truly are. Of course, I’m going to think of Tinker Bell.The dust might not make me fly by thinking happy thoughts, but that’s okay. I’m still living out every little girl’s fantasy right now.

“Yeah, a little like Tinker Bell. I think the author ofPeter Panknew about non-humans and incorporated a few details into his story. I’m sure if you asked Fynn, he could confirm it.”

“Yes, absolutely, yes. Please fairy dust me.”

I’m eager and know it, but it only seems to widen Hunter’s smile.

“Okay, okay, hold your horses.”

He shifts, sitting up, and digs below the blanket into his pocket, producing a small drawstring pouch. I spin in place to kneel, facing him.

“Eager little bird, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Yes, I am, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. Fairy dust me.” I try to speak as quietly as possible, but my enthusiasm may have gotten the better of me.

Shifting to put his back towards the majority of the people around us, Hunter pours a small amount of fairy dust into this open palm. It shimmers like the finest glitter in the moonlight with a slight blue tint to it.

“Don’t worry, it won’t stick to you like real glitter. It absorbs into your skin, completely invisible. Are you ready?”

“How does it work? Is it a specific type of dust? Does it only give people the sight? What else can it do?”

I have so many questions, but Hunter just shakes his head, trying to hide his grin.

“In time, you’ll learn everything you want to know. For now, just know that the dust doesn’t do anything until I infuse it with intention. I want to give you the sight, so when I use the dust on you, that’s what will happen.”

Nodding, I hold my tongue to ask all my questions later. Hunter holds his hand and the dust up to his face and gently blows the shimmering powder in my face. I don’t feel a physicalsensation of it coating my skin, but a cold tickling sensation like snowflakes settling against my cheeks and melting into my pores.

Nothing seems to happen at first. Everything looks the same until an iridescent film coats my vision. The world wavers and when it resettles, there aren’t just people sitting in the field watching the movie anymore.

Gossamer wings of various colors protrude from backs, antlers and horns curl from heads, and tails twitch under skirts and blankets. There are skin tones in every shade, not just the ones I’m used to but purple, blue, green, and . . . pink.

“Becca is completely pink!” I quietly exclaim.

The woman I know as a spunky redhead with glittering green eyes is pink from head to toe—not just hair but skin and wings, all in varying shades of bubble gum and cotton candy pink. The male sitting next to her doesn’t have wings, but he does have pointed ears, blue markings on his skin, and dark hair that shimmers blue under the moonlight.

I was just expecting the fairies to look like themselves but with wings, and they most certainly do not. I have no idea what the people with tails and horns are, but some have stripes and interesting markings all different from the next. Of course, I can’t tell who else is a shifter since they have a human form, not just a glamour to conceal themselves. So, of the people who still look like people, I don’t know who is human or not.

“Yeah, she likes to call herself the love fairy. She’s tried to set me up on dozens of blind dates, all of which I declined after the first.” Hunter repositions himself back at my side, leaning against the tree trunk, looking around the field, and then back at me, watching for more reactions.

“What was wrong with the first?” I ask.

There are so many beautiful creatures to look at now in the field that I can’t pull my rapidly shifting eyes away from them, but I try to hold as normal a conversation with Hunter as I can.

“She was my cousin.”

“What?” Laughing, I turn to face him, wondering how she couldn’t have known they were cousins. “I mean, I guess some people are fine with that, but how did she not know?”

“Becca doesn’t make matches so much as she thrusts two single people together and hope it sticks. Her intentions are good, but none of her mismatched pairings have stuck yet. Though that doesn’t stop her from trying.”

Turning to look at the fairy, I find her with her mouth glued to the male's she’s with. Apparently, they’ve seen the movie before and don’t mind missing it.

“Apparently, whoever made her match was much better at it,” I comment off-handedly.

Hunter’s answer comes at the end of a muffled chuckle. “He’s her mate. No person matched them; I guess you can say they matched themselves.”

---