Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Then—just as the float started to slide past them—the flowers appeared to shiver.
A collective gasp rippled through the onlookers—Iris included—as hundreds of tiny petals floated up into the air.
They weren’t plants after all.
They were flower sprites.
Their petal-wings fluttered in the air, fast and shimmering like dragonflies.
Iris’s head angled up, her lips parted, eyes wide, her heart thudding. The shimmer of wings echoed something deep and wordless inside her. It felt ancient—older than her frustration with Finn or the obligations to the surface world. This was joy in its purest form. She wanted to bottle it, to drink it like sunlight through sea glass.
They lowered back down to the float, everyone moving in perfect choreography until they formed a sign out of their soft, vibrant bodies.
First, we pollinate.
Then, we party.
The onlookers erupted into cheers and whistles as music blasted from speakers built into the float, and the sprites indeed started to party.
“I think that was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Iris declared when the float moved on.
“I agree,” Finn said, making her turn to find him watching her.
But before she could let herself analyze that, there was a chorus of voices, drawing her attention back to the street where hundreds of small red-hat-clad gnomes marched.
Each marched in a perfectly timed formation, wielding sparkly tools like hammers, garden spades, and rakes.
Just when Iris was starting to think that was all they would do, they stopped in the middle of the street and broke into a dance, using their tools the way a color guard troupe would use flags, as they broke into some sort of song—only, there were no words.
“What is that?” Iris asked, not even glancing at Finn because she didn’t want to miss a second of the display.
“Beatboxing,” Finn supplied.
As the gnomes walked away, Iris spotted the dryad float moving down the street, the bright green leaves waving in the wind, their limbs swaying.
Then, so slowly that it almost seemed as if your eyes were playing tricks on you, they emerged from their trees—adults and children alike—and broke into a song about protecting the woodlands. It was so beautiful that Iris found herself blinking tears from her eyes.
Another garden float was next, this one lined in rows of dirt, with vegetables sticking out of the tilled rows.
Then, with a growing rumble like an impending storm, the root fae pulled themselves out of the ground to show off their colorful and shapely bodies.
“I forgot there were so many kinds of fae,” Iris said as a group of female fairies in rainbow outfits and lots of hair ribbons came down the road doing backflips and cartwheels.
“Hundreds,” Finn said, his arm shooting out to grab her as someone to her side rammed into her.
“Do you know them all?”
“Individually? No. But the types? Yes, absolutely. And it looks like the elves are up next.”
Finn’s arm didn’t leave her lower back as the group of men with gossamer wings and barely there flesh-colored shorts—and nothing else—came marching down the street like an army, their bows in their hands.
The group stopped suddenly, half of them turning in the opposite direction.
Then, in perfect unison, they reached for arrows, nocked their bows, and shot the arrows into the air.
Where they exploded into floral confetti that rained down on the delighted crowd.
Iris, like just about everyone else, leapt up and reached out, grabbing for some of the falling petals.
But her heart shot up into her throat, and her belly hit the floor, as she lost her footing and started to fall over the barricade.
Before her gasp could even fully escape her, Finn’s hands were on her hips, dragging her back against his firm body.
This time, as her heart tripped into overdrive, it was for entirely different reasons.
His arm draped across her lower stomach, keeping her against him. His face was against the side of her head.
All she could think about was how perfectly their bodies fit together, how nice it felt to be held.
She even let herself get caught up in those feelings for a few moments before she caught sight of a news crew across the street from them.
Knowing what she knew of Finn, he’d noticed them and decided to play it up for them.
Why she found that disappointing, when it was literally the plan, was beyond her.
She stayed in his arms, but she was a lot tenser than a moment before.
Thankfully, the next performance was making its way down the street.
Tall, ethereal fae seemed to float across the pavement, their skin, hair, and wings matching shades of magnificently translucent white.
There was a twinkling sound in the air, and it took her a moment to realize it was coming from the fae as they sang and slowly broke into a dance that had their bodies swaying and their wings gently flapping in the wind.
The song and their movements pulsed, grew, until suddenly, they hit a high note as they floated up into the air like angels.