My assets: a human brain.

My disadvantages: I had no tools, and I couldn’t move or speak.

Not a lot to work with, any way you looked at it.

The bush had small, heart-shaped leaves—the same kind of plant that grew everywhere in the forest. I had the horrifying fear the queen would forget where I was. I also feared she wouldn’t.

Would it be better to die here, forgotten and starving, or to die in whatever creative and no doubt painful way the queen used?

Out in the forest an owl hooted. Branches rustled in the distance. Perhaps from the wind. Another noise. Someone called my name. No, I was imagining that. It was just the wind.

The call came again, low and insistent. “Sadie!”

Donovan. It was his voice. He’d come back. Part of me surged with anger. He was supposed to be in the twenty-first century—out of danger. What was he doing here? Why hadn’t Chrissy done what I asked? My sacrifice was for nothing.

The other part of me wanted to cry with relief. He’d come to help me. I called his name. It choked out of my mouth, no louder than a hoarse whisper.

“Sadie!” he called again, closer now. He was walking nearby. Perhaps on the path. Would he notice a new bush where nothing had grown before? Probably not. What was one more bush in this forest?

“Donovan!” I could still only manage a rustle of sound.

“Sadie!” The sound came from farther away. He’d passed by me, hadn’t heard me.

Tears stung my eyes. I couldn’t do anything to get his attention. “Donovan!” I called, knowing the word would be swallowed in the breezes that rippled through the trees

“Sadie!” He was walking away.

Panic and anger mixed inside of me. It wasn’t fair. “I’m here,” I whispered.

“Sadie!” He stopped, listened, but made no sign he’d heard me. “Sadie,” he said sorrowfully. He was losing hope.

“Find me,” I murmured, and then realized how he could. I turned my head, tilting it in Donovan’s direction.

“I hate singing,” I choked out, and felt the prick of my nose growing. “I hate chocolate, hot showers, and indoor plumbing. I love homework, chores, and being trapped by freaky, magical plants.” Each lie brought a sharper pain to my nose, partially because it grew, partially because it scraped against the plant. As my nose knocked into the branches, they shivered, creaked. Made some noise.

“Sadie?” he called, and there was a question to it. He’d heard something.

“I love the mean girls at school, and I care about their opinions. That’s what friends are: people who want to tear you down and see you fail.”

My nose kept growing. It pushed twigs and leaves out of the way.

“Sadie?” Donovan called, worried. “Where are you?”

“If I get back to my real life, I’m going to obsess about the viral video of myself. Why care just about the mean girls in high school, when I can care about mean people across the nation? Strangers who see a bad moment in my life are in a perfect position to judge me. They’ve never done something stupid. They’ve never made fools of themselves. In fact, everyone’s life out there is perfect except for mine.”

I heard Donovan’s footsteps coming closer. “Sadie, if you can hear me, do something. Let me know where you are.”

“I don’t want you to find me,” I said. “I don’t care if I die here. I don’t love you.”

My voice got choked. This time not from the root, but because I knew the truth. I did love Donovan. I had to, because my nose grew when I said I didn’t. It was real love after all.

Donovan let out an exclamation of surprise. His footsteps hurried closer. The branches above me creaked, parted. At first I saw nothing, and then Donovan pulled the hood off his invisibility cloak.

He peered through the crisscross tangle of leaves. “Well, I’ve got to give you credit. You know how to get a guy’s attention.”

I’d never heard such beautiful words. “Hurry,” I whispered. “The queen is coming back.”

He pulled his sword from its sheath. “Shrink your nose so I don’t accidentally hit it.” He walked around the bush and hacked at the branches entwining my feet.

It was hard to recall all the lies I’d uttered. My opinions had been a jumble of panic. “I love singing, chocolate, and indoor plumbing, clearance sales, cats . . .” I must have hit some of the right things. My nose shrank.

Every time Donovan hit the bush, the whole thing shuddered. Bits of bark and leaves rained down on me. I squeezed my eyes shut. “I hate homework, chores, the song Hotel California, alarm clocks . . . oh, I remember . . . freaky magical plants that trap people.” Each truth made my nose feel less taut, less painful. The scratches were disappearing with the length.

“I hate mean girls, and I don’t care what they think. I’m not wasting my time worrying about their opinions.” I doubt Donovan heard my confessions. His sword sliced through the plant again and again, chopping away the foliage. “I don’t care about that stupid viral video or what anyone thinks of my audition.”

When he’d cleared the branches above me, he slid his sword, flat end down, under the roots that wound around my arms and legs. Using the blade like a letter opener, he cut through them. They popped and broke, releasing their grip.

“I wanted you to find me.” My nose was nearly back to its normal length. “I don’t want to die here.”

Donovan took my hand and pulled me to my feet. “I second that. Let’s go.”

I had one more lie to straighten out. “I love you,” I whispered. With those words my nose shrank the last bit.

He did a double take. For a second, his expression showed nothing but shock, and I contemplated all the ways this moment could turn really awkward. “What did you say?” he asked.

“Nothing . . .” I didn’t want my nose to grow so I added, “that can’t wait until later.”

Donovan seemed to agree. He pulled me toward the meadow. “Chrissy is waiting for us. She’ll take us home.”

“She came back too?” Of course she had. How else could Donovan have gotten here? Chrissy must have borrowed magic from someone, and Donovan had volunteered to search Queen Orlaith’s land for me. The thought filled me with warmth, with energy. I used that energy to run faster.

Chapter 29

The advantage of sprinting through the forest without a stolen goblet shoved in your dress is that the birds don’t rat on you in squealing alarm. The only sound I heard was our footsteps and panting breaths.

The trees thinned. I saw Chrissy in the meadow, floating a few feet off the ground. Her wings fluttered in agitation. “Hurry!” she called to us. “Kailen is coming!”

I glanced over my shoulder. A dark shape was gliding over the forest—not a bird. Kailen flew in his fairy form. I had no idea how he knew I’d escaped from the bush, but he held his twisted wand outstretched as he scanned the trees, looking for me.

I pushed myself to go faster. We only had a few more trees to pass, and then we’d be out of Queen Orlaith’s lands. Donovan could have pulled ahead. He stayed beside me, though, matching his pace to mine.

Chrissy flew a couple of feet closer, then stopped, held back by an invisible border. She hovered in the air, waiting and fingering her wand so that sparks of glitter shot from its end.

We were almost to her.

“Hurry,” she called again. “I can’t come on Kailen’s land, but he can come here.”

Yeah, I remembered that detail from the last time Queen Orlaith had captured me and dragged me back to her domain.

Chrissy swished her wand and a swirl of sparkles hovered and twirled at the edge of the boundary, illuminating it for us. Freedom was so close, just a few sparkles away.

“Stop!” Kailen yelled from the tops of the trees. He’d spotted us.

I ran faster. The border was only a few steps away.

“By fairy law,” Kailen called, full of indignant authority, “the girl is my prisoner.” He spoke to Chrissy not to me.