Eden's Escape

by M. Tara Crowl

  Copyright © 2016 by M. Tara Crowl

  Designed by Phil Caminiti

  Cover design by Phil Caminiti

  Cover art © 2016 by Erwin Madrid

  Handlettering by Sarah Pierson

  All rights reserved. Published by Disney • Hyperion, an imprint of Disney Book Group. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher.

  For information address Disney • Hyperion, 125 West End Avenue, New York, New York 10023.

  ISBN 978-1-4847-7626-1

  Visit www.disneybooks.com

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  For Henry, who came to Paris for me

  This time, Eden landed on her feet.

  When she opened her eyes, she saw that they were planted on black pavement. Black pavement meant a street. She was standing on a street.

  Okay, she thought. But where? She lifted her eyes.

  Directly before her were four yellow taxis, side by side, like the front line of a battalion. To her left and right were buildings so tall, she was as small as a bug in comparison. And in the distance, a narrow slip of bright blue sky framed by more sky-high buildings, as far as she could see.

  She’d never been here before; of that, she was certain. And yet, she’d received a genie’s education. She’d seen enough photos to know without a doubt where she was.

  “New York City,” she said softly.

  RERRR!!! Car horns rang in her ears.

  “Get outta the road!” yelled a man leaning out of a taxi’s window. “You tryna get killed?”

  The light had changed, and the battalion was ready to charge.

  As Eden sprinted to the sidewalk, taxis ripped through the space she left behind. Something heavy bounced on her back, and she felt straps around her shoulders. She was wearing a backpack. Suddenly, it started to vibrate against her back—but there was no time to figure out why right now.

  There was no less traffic on the sidewalk, but at least it was made up of mortals on foot rather than cars. The prospect of a collision wasn’t nearly as dire.

  Mortals. She took a deep breath. She had to stop calling them that.

  After all, she was living among them now.

  “MOVE!” An old woman in a hot-pink T-shirt shoved her with shocking strength. Eden stumbled sideways into the path of a large family: father, mother, grandparents, and three kids. Each wore a shirt that read I♥NY, and a few of them carried long metal sticks with cell phones attached to the end. They spoke to one another in Russian.

  “Should I take her photo?”

  “She looks lost.”

  “I don’t think she’s American.”

  “I want a slice of pizza.”

  “Not now, we’re here!”

  The members of the family stopped and looked up—so Eden did too. The building in front of them was slim, gray, and dotted with tiny rectangular windows. It rose high into the sky, even higher than all the other buildings. On top was a slender pinnacle that it wore like an elegant crown.

  Eden gasped. “The Empire State Building!”

  From her left came a warm, rich laugh. “That’s right, honey! You know where you’re at!” A smiling woman stood at the door, wearing a black captain’s hat with a maroon suit jacket and pants. Above her, letters on the building spelled OBSERVATORY ENTRANCE.

  “Entrance? That means I can go inside?”

  “Course you can, baby!” The woman laughed again. “You can go all the way to the top!”

  “To the top?” Eden’s heart pounded. Imagine looking through a window from the top of this building!

  “Sure! Twenty-seven dollars gets you to the eighty-sixth floor.”

  Eden’s hopes fell and shattered like a sheet of glass. After all she’d been through, she still didn’t have any money.

  “Actually, twenty-one dollars if you’re twelve or under,” the guard amended.

  The backpack vibrated against Eden’s back again. “One second,” she said, and the guard shrugged amiably. Eden stepped to the side, kneeled to the ground, and removed the backpack.

  It was made of brown leather, and larger than the denim one she’d used in San Diego. She unzipped it cautiously, as if something might jump out. At the top, a rolled-up sheet of parchment paper was buzzing insistently. That was what had made the backpack vibrate. Eden looked around to see if anyone was paying attention, then unrolled it.

  There on the paper was an image of Xavier and Goldie, just as she’d left them. Goldie was rosy-cheeked, with her hair swept neatly into a silver-blond bun; Xavier was handsome and dignified, with dark, slicked-back hair and a pencil-thin mustache.

  As Eden watched, the image came to life like a video on a TV screen.

  “Hello, Eden,” Goldie said fondly. “Welcome to your new adventure.”

  “You’re the first genie ever to live on Earth during her granting career,” Xavier said importantly. “You’ll live on Earth, but continue granting wishes until you’ve completed nine hundred and ninety-nine. That is unprecedented. You, my dear, are a pioneer.”

  “You’re going to do so well,” Goldie assured her. “You’re going to thrive!”

  “Since you were very young, you’ve wanted to live on Earth. You’ve wanted freedom. And now, you have it,” Xavier continued. “But, as you know, with that freedom come greater risks, and greater responsibility.”

  “But, we know that you’re ready for those things,” Goldie added earnestly. “We believe in you!”

  “You begin here, in one of Earth’s finest cities,” said Xavier. “You’ll recognize the building in front of you. Go to the top and take a look around. Your new guardian will meet you there.”

  “Until we see you again,” Goldie said, “good luck out there. We love you.”

  “And remember, we’re always here if you need us.”

  Xavier waved, and Goldie blew a kiss. Then the message was over.

  Eden dug into the backpack. Inside were three pairs of underwear, three pairs of socks, her favorite hunter-green cashmere sweater, a nightgown, a pair of sunglasses, a roll of the enchanted parchment paper, and, at the very top, a wedge of Goldie’s carrot cake, wrapped in wax paper. Automatically, Eden pinched off a gooey bite. When it hit her lips, something dizzying and unexpected welled up in her chest, making it hard to swallow. Hastily, she rewrapped the cake and kept looking.

  She unzipped the pocket on the front and found a soft brown leather wallet. The billfold held five crisp twenty-dollar bills. Behind the wallet was a slim navy book. PASSPORT, the front read in gold. And, under a seal, UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. She opened it to find, inexplicably, a photo of herself that looked like it was taken yesterday. The passport claimed her birthplace as New York, New York, on a date twelve and a half
years earlier. Miraculously, she’d become a U.S. citizen.

  Eden had been born a genie in a magic lamp, and had started granting wishes at the age of ten. Since then, she’d granted thirty-six wishes, for twelve mortal wishers. And her masters were the ones who’d made it all possible. Thousands of years ago, they’d enchanted the lamp, created the rules, and designed the granting system.

  But in spite of all that, their magical prowess still surprised her once in a while.

  She tucked the passport back inside, took out the money, and headed for the top of the Empire State Building.

  In the marble-floored entryway, Eden moved toward a metal outline of the building on the back wall. Guards in maroon suits and captain’s hats pointed her to a moving set of steel stairs. My first escalator, she thought, feeling the cool metal brush her fingertips as she ascended with her hand draped over the black rubber railing.

  At the top of the escalator, everyone was corralled into a twisting line with red velvet ropes setting out its course. While she waited, Eden listened to the conversations around her. She heard German, Spanish, and a rare dialect of Cantonese. Besides the guards, it seemed no one here spoke English.

  The first room led to a station where people placed their belongings on a conveyor belt, then walked beneath a gray plastic arch.

  “What is this?” she asked one of the guards.

  “Security.” He sounded bored. “Backpack on the belt.”

  After retrieving her backpack, she boarded an elevator that took her to the eighty-sixth floor. On the elevator ride, the change in air pressure caused a strange sensation in her ears. She yawned to relieve it, and tapped her toes impatiently. But finally the elevator reached the top, and she stepped out and saw the view. And suddenly, the trip was worth all the trouble—and then some.

  She darted to the balcony, desperate to eliminate the walls between herself and the unknown. She pressed against the concrete barrier and fitted her face between crisscrossing strips of metal.

  Below her, the buildings that made up Manhattan reached expectantly toward the sky. From ground level, they towered mightily; but from up here, they might have been built by children with blocks.

  Eden had spent most of her life within the confines of the lamp. She’d grown up with no windows, no light, no vision—only hope for when someone would rub the lamp, allowing her to travel to Earth for a few precious minutes. From the inside, her home had felt palatial, but in reality it was smaller than a shoebox. Similarly, from the sidewalk New York had seemed impossibly big, but now it was an enchanted city in miniature. Up here, she felt like its queen.

  She ran around the balcony, taking in the view from each side. She saw Central Park, the Chrysler Building, and One World Trade Center. After studying them for years, she felt like they were pen pals she was finally meeting face-to-face.

  On her third lap around, she stopped on the west-facing side to gaze toward the Hudson River. There, a voice came from behind her.

  “New York, New York. For me, she can do no wrong. But you caught her on an especially brilliant day.”

  It was the kind of voice that made you pay attention—the voice of someone important. And it spoke perfectly enunciated English.

  Eden whipped around to see who it belonged to. The woman was petite—slightly shorter than Eden, in fact. She had creamy white skin, curly chocolate-colored hair, and a grin like a five-year-old on her birthday.

  “Pepper!” Eden said with surprise.

  She was, of course, a genie alum. She looked exactly like her portrait in the Lamp History course guide. Her career had spanned from 1582 to 1636.

  “That’s right! Pleased to meet you!” Pepper curtsied, then held a finger playfully to her lips. “But don’t blow my cover. At the moment, my name is Quincy.”

  Eden couldn’t fathom what that meant. What she did know was that this must be her guardian. “You’re the one who’s going to look after me?” she asked.

  “Bingo!” Pepper clicked her heels together and beamed.

  On paper, Pepper had been one of the friendliest-looking genies. In person, she sparkled like a decked-out Christmas tree.

  “Are you a Loyal?” Eden had spotted the thick gold cuff on Pepper’s wrist that identified her as a genie. After her last trip to Earth, Eden was wary of all alumni—and petrified of some. She’d had to contend with both the Loyal alumni, who were committed to preserving the lamp’s legacy at any cost, and members of Electra, who were determined to seize its power for themselves.

  “Technically, yes. But I wasn’t part of that mess in San Diego, if that’s what you’re asking.” Pepper wrinkled her freckle-dusted nose. “I don’t care for all the politics.”

  “But you talk to Xavier and Goldie? I’ve never seen a message from you.”

  “Not very often—only once a decade or so. I could hardly believe it when they asked for my help! But how could I say no? Guardian for the first genie to ever live on Earth? I never thought I’d see the day!”

  Eden blushed. She still wasn’t quite sure what to make of it either. Her escape through the lamp’s spout and the days she’d spent in San Diego posing as a mortal had convinced Xavier and Goldie of what she’d always suspected: that she wasn’t meant to spend the decades to come in the lamp. She really was different from the others who’d come before her—so different that the rules had changed for her.

  Eden looked down at her own genie bracelet. Unlike Pepper’s, hers was active, which meant that even though she was living on Earth now, she was still a genie. When the lamp was rubbed, she’d be summoned to wherever the wisher might be.

  But until then, she’d be here, with Pepper. And so far, that seemed like a very good thing. She’d known Pepper for less than five minutes—but already, she couldn’t help liking her.

  Pepper grabbed her hand. “Come on, let’s get out of here! There’s so much to see down there.”

  “The best place to start is smack-dab in the middle of the madness,” Pepper declared. So she led them straight up Fifth Avenue.

  She was right: New York was a mad, mad city. It pulsed with a million forms of life. A few days ago, when Eden was used to the lamp’s silence, San Diego had been a sensory overload. But compared to this, it was as dead as the halls of Mission Beach Middle after the late bell.

  The variety of skin tones, hair colors, body types, and clothing styles was endless. Within five blocks, Eden counted twenty-seven breeds of dogs, each tethered to an owner with a leash. One group of six dogs, each a different breed, pulled a single young man who held all of their leashes.

  In San Diego, natural beauty was everywhere: the roaring ocean, wide beaches, green hills. But here, there were no trees or plants to speak of, with the exception of the occasional concrete planter with a tentative shrub growing inside. New York was a forest of buildings, not trees.

  “New York, New York!” Pepper crowed. “Here, when you’re up, you’re at the top, and when you’re down, you’re lower than low. But I promise you this: there’s no other place I’d want to be!” Pepper hadn’t stopped smiling since Eden had met her. She also moved fast, so Eden had to trot behind her to keep up. She jogged to catch up as they passed the New York Public Library.

  “You’re lucky,” Pepper said. “Sometimes August is so hot, you can’t think straight. But today”—holding her arms out wide, she sprang into a graceful leap—“today is perfect!” She turned her landing into a pirouette, then continued onward without missing a beat.

  Pepper radiated something sort of like magic. When she passed, birds chirped and even the grumpiest people couldn’t help smiling. Maybe it was because she didn’t really walk; she pranced, throwing in an occasional twirl. And somehow, as she did, she managed to weave deftly through the crowds like she’d been doing it forever. It made Eden wonder….

  “How long have you been in New York?”

  “Two hundred sixty-six years!” Pepper answered gleefully. “In 1750, I took a ship called the Patience from London. It was smel
ly and cramped, but seven weeks later, I was here.”

  “What did the city look like back then?” Eden asked.

  “Not much, to be honest. But I fell in love anyway. I knew it was the greatest city in the world. I’ve always had an eye for potential.” Pepper winked. “And ever since then, it keeps getting better.” She smiled slyly at Eden. “You know, I should warn you: Manhattan is a darling. If you’re not careful, you’ll fall for her too.”

  It was a valid warning. Already, Eden was starting to understand why New York was the setting of countless stories, and the subject of so many songs. Its energy flowed like adrenaline through her veins. There was a desperate, thrilling sense of motion in the air.

  “I know this city inside out. I’m the best tour guide there is!” Pepper beamed. “So tell me, what would you like to see?”

  “This.” Eden watched an old man tooting an out-of-tune trumpet on the sidewalk. “Life.”

  “Right, then. In New York, you won’t run out of that!” Pepper took Eden’s hand in hers and swung it. “Look!” She pointed up at a bronze statue that Eden recognized: Atlas, holding the heavens aloft in his muscular arms. It stood in front of Rockefeller Center. Eden walked in a slow circle around it, staring up into the clouds through Atlas’s globe.

  “How did someone make this?” she asked in awe.

  “Pretty incredible, right?” Pepper agreed. “Sometimes we don’t give mortals enough credit.”

  As they continued up Fifth Avenue, Pepper rattled off facts and funny stories about the places they passed.

  “That way is MoMA, the Museum of Modern Art. One time, eleven years ago, I was part of a performance-art piece there. I had to sing and act out ‘I’m a Little Teapot’ for hours on end!”

  Then: “There’s Bergdorf Goodman, the best place to play dress-up!”

  And then: “That’s the Plaza Hotel. In 1954 I lived there for a month, and had breakfast in bed every morning. It was heaven!”

  Eden smiled. Pepper seemed to have a rich personal history with every single block.

  “And here,” Pepper said triumphantly, “is Central Park!”

  The lawn spread out before them, covered with mortals enjoying the dreamy day. It was a giant green oasis in the concrete city. To Eden, it was like a welcome breeze through an open window.