Eden's Escape

by M. Tara Crowl

“It’s Pepper.” She cleared her throat. “Pepper, in New York.”

  “Yes, Pepper, I know where you are.” Bola sounded annoyed. “Look, you’re two weeks late. The genie’s back in the lamp; the masters are safe. Case closed.”

  “I know that—”

  “We could have used your help, you know. A show of support, if nothing else. But never mind that now.”

  “Well, actually—”

  “Why are you calling me?” The coldness of Bola’s tone made Pepper consider hanging up for a split second. But what then?

  “I need your help.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Bola sounded distracted.

  “Two weeks ago, the masters sent Eden to live on Earth, and they asked me to be her guardian. And everything was going really well, but then tonight she was summoned, and now it’s been almost three hours, and that’s too long for a granting. And I’m worried, I’m really worried.”

  “What? Pepper, you’re not making sense. Start over, and speak articulately. The masters did what?”

  Pepper took a deep breath. “Two weeks ago, after Eden returned to the lamp, Xavier and Goldie decided to let her live on Earth for the rest of her career. See, she’s different from the rest of us. She wasn’t happy there.”

  “They did what?”

  “And they asked me to be her guardian.”

  “Her guardian?” Bola thundered. She barked a sound that Pepper assumed was meant to be some sort of laugh. “Pepper, this story is simply not plausible. Why would they allow her to live on Earth? And under your care?”

  Pepper stiffened at the insult. “Why not my care?”

  “I just don’t understand why they would do that.”

  “Well, they did.” Now Pepper was annoyed. “She’s been here with me in New York for the past two weeks.”

  “I’m going to need to discuss this with them. I’ll call you back.”

  “You can’t!” Pepper said. “That’s the other problem. My messages aren’t sending. I think something’s happened to the lamp.”

  The silence that followed felt like it was radioactively charged. Pepper could practically feel electrons ionizing.

  “What. Do. You. Mean?” Bola shot the words across the line like bullets.

  “I just tried sending a message to them, but it’s useless. The magic isn’t working.” Pepper’s voice broke on the last word.

  Bola paused. “Let me call you back.” And the line went dead.

  Pepper’s hand fell to her side. Her phone felt too heavy to hold.

  Maybe, she thought, Bola would get through to them. Maybe there was something wrong with this piece of parchment. Maybe the trouble gathering around Pepper like a storm cloud would simply lift away….

  Her phone rang.

  “You’re right,” Bola said. “It isn’t working.”

  Pepper squeezed her eyes closed.

  “I need to think,” Bola said.

  Pepper opened her eyes again. “Think about what?”

  “I’ll call you later.”

  “But—”

  “Goodbye, Pepper.” Suddenly, Bola was no longer on the line.

  Pepper looked out at 44th Street. She pulled her knees up to her chest and watched as the rain started falling harder. For some reason, now that the problem was no longer hers alone, she was even more afraid.

  If only she knew where Eden was! She’d go anywhere and do whatever it took to save her. But Eden might have been summoned to anywhere in the world, and at the moment, there was no way to know where.

  There was nothing to do but wait, and keep hoping for her to turn up.

  Eden raced down the street blindly, thinking of nothing except putting distance between her and that lab. She had no idea where in the world she was, let alone where she was going. All she knew was that she couldn’t let them catch her.

  Day hadn’t yet broken, but it would soon; the sky was tinted with the reverse twilight between dark and dawn. Because of the early hour, almost no one was out—just a handful of sad souls asleep on the sidewalk. As Eden sprinted, she spotted a worn-out fedora lying on top of a pile of garbage. If anyone from Brightly Tech was looking, she’d be hard to miss when the streets were so empty. Still, it couldn’t hurt to change something about her appearance. She scooped up the hat, then shoved it on her head and stuffed her long ponytail inside.

  She tore through winding streets and alleys, selecting them at random. It was lucky that whatever city she was in had lots of them. For it was a city—of that, she was certain. Wherever she was lacked Manhattan’s up-all-night energy, but closed shops and cafés lined the streets.

  She’d never had a reason to run this fast before, and it turned out it wasn’t easy. Pain was shooting through her legs, and every breath was like a knife stabbing her chest. Even worse was the ache in her heart that came when she thought about Xavier and Goldie.

  The plasma shield had blocked her masters’ only portal to the world. That meant their view through the telescope was blacked out, and the messages that normally went in and out of the lamp wouldn’t be able to get through. Brightly’s technology had left Eden’s masters not only helpless, but clueless.

  But that wasn’t the only problem. When Eden thought about what had just transpired, her mind went numb. She’d escaped from a wisher in the middle of a granting. She’d burned the wisher with a laser and set fire to his lab. And she’d left the lamp behind, at the mercy of that horrible mortal and his cohorts. That is, if they’d survived the fire.

  At the thought of that, her skin went cold. Could the fire have killed one of those mortals? They were terrible people, but she didn’t want to be responsible for their deaths!

  Suddenly, it was all too much to bear. She had to stop running; her body couldn’t take any more. She leaned against a building, put her hands on her knees, and took in giant gulps of air.

  Looking down, she caught a glimpse of her gold cuff bracelet. It gave her a welcome wave of reassurance. As long as that bracelet was on her wrist, nothing could happen to her or her masters. It was a symbol of hope she could rely on, even when she didn’t feel that hope.

  By now, the sun had risen completely. People setting out for work or school were starting to populate the sidewalks. She’d look like a maniac if she started running again.

  Get a grip, she told herself. Think. She took a deep breath and assessed her surroundings.

  The streets were smaller than in New York, and they had a different feel. In Manhattan, it was as if every building strived to outdo all the others. But here, a quiet elegance graced the architecture. The buildings were shorter and stouter, older, and more pleasing to the eye. Things coordinated. Even the colors seemed to be painted from the same palette: taupe, tan, peach, yellow, a muted turquoise. The result was a coherent, unforced beauty, quite different from what she’d left behind.

  Across the street was a blue street sign with white writing and a green border. Frowning, she read what it said: RUE GALANDE. And in the curved section on top: 5TH ARR.

  Rue was the French word for “street.” And Arr. stood for arrondissement, the term for a district in a French city.

  Eden turned the corner and walked slowly up the street. Suspicion seeped through her mind like flavor from a tea bag.

  As she reached the end of the street, church bells clanged to announce a new hour. When she saw what lay ahead, she gasped.

  Across the street was a glistening river. It stretched to the left and the right as far as she could see, with bridges crossing it at periodic points. And on the other side of the river was the church that the bells were chiming from.

  But it wasn’t just any church. It was the Cathédrale Notre Dame.

  Naturally, Eden had studied Notre Dame in the lamp. It was one of the world’s most famous cathedrals, and a prominent example of French Gothic architecture. When she’d been trapped within the confines of the lamp’s lesson room, she’d yearned to see it in person. But today, the sight had a different effect on her.

  “You
’ve got to be kidding me,” she whispered.

  The Cathédrale Notre Dame was in Paris. That meant she was in Paris.

  And Paris was the location of Electra’s headquarters.

  Paris. As if it weren’t bad enough to have a fuming, power-hungry tech genius on her trail, now she’d have to evade Sylvana and her pack of evil employees too. After the way she’d foiled them in San Diego, Eden could only imagine how thrilled they’d be to happen upon her roaming the streets of their city.

  She rounded the corner and used the glass of a storefront as a mirror. She pulled the hat a little farther down on her head. Sure, it obscured her face a little—but if she were to cross paths with one of the Electric, there was a good chance they’d still recognize her.

  The store in front of her was closed, but inside were shelves filled with thousands of books. She looked up and saw its name: Shakespeare and Company.

  Eden’s chest clenched tightly. Naturally, Shakespeare’s name made her think of Pepper.

  What would Pepper be doing right now, anyway? Did she think it was strange that the granting was lasting so long? Was she worried?

  With a sensation like a rip through her heart, Eden remembered the tickets to My Fair Lady. They were supposed to go tonight.

  Eden turned to face the river. She needed somewhere quiet and safe to think. Churches were supposed to be good for that, weren’t they?

  She crossed the closest bridge to reach the Île de la Cité, the small island that Notre Dame sat on. It was surrounded on all sides by the Seine, which curled through the center of Paris.

  Even though the clock had just struck 8 A.M., mortals were already lined up waiting to enter. Instead of joining them, she walked around the side of the cathedral and saw patches of grass and manicured flower beds in the back. She found an empty bench, lay on her back across its seat, and closed her eyes.

  She needed to get out of town—and fast. But she had no money, and she didn’t have her passport—so even with money, she wouldn’t be able to get back to the U.S. And since she hadn’t brought her cell phone, she had no way to contact Pepper.

  But anyway, she’d be crazy to get on the phone after learning how Brightly monitored phone calls. Assuming they’d survived the fire, Jane was probably already flagging phone conversations that included mentions of her name.

  Despair flared in Eden’s stomach. But just before it took hold of her, she caught herself.

  The last time she was on Earth, the challenges she’d faced had seemed insurmountable. And yet, she’d ended up right where she belonged. She didn’t know how, but she’d get through this too. She’d simply have to. Because no one—mortal or immortal, no matter how rich or powerful—was going to steal her new life.

  “Cool style,” said someone in French.

  Eden opened her eyes and saw a girl standing over her. Her thick dark hair was cut into a messy bob, with long bangs swept to one side. She was wearing suspenders over a men’s oxford shirt with the sleeves roughly cut off. They were connected to tight, high-waisted jean shorts. Though she looked like she was around Eden’s age, a slender silver ring pierced one of her nostrils. And on a strap around her neck was an expensive-looking camera.

  “Merci,” Eden replied—though she wasn’t sure whether she considered it a compliment, coming from someone wearing such a strange outfit. She sat up to a cross-legged position.

  “I mean, the dress—fine. But your hat,” the girl continued in French. “I love it. Where’s it from?”

  “Uh…” Eden touched the fedora on her head. All morning she’d been inhaling a spicy, sort of rotten stench, and she was pretty sure the hat was its source—but she didn’t dare take it off. “I found it on the street.”

  “Nice.” The girl nodded, as if this were a perfectly normal way to acquire clothes. “You have school today?”

  Eden supposed that, sprawled out on a bench wearing a hat that belonged in the trash, she must look more like a local than a tourist. Not quite the impression she’d had about Parisians.

  “I’m skipping it,” she answered. “You?”

  “Nice.” The girl maintained a calculated level of nonchalance, but Eden could tell she’d piqued her interest. “Maman and Papa homeschool me,” she said. “But they’re also professors at the Sorbonne, and they both have classes this morning. That means I get to do my work.” She indicated the camera around her neck. “Can I take a photo of you in that hat for my blog?”

  “No,” Eden said hurriedly. “I should go.”

  “Oh, come on. You’re skipping. You’ve got all day, right?” The girl sat next to Eden on the bench, pulled out her phone, and tapped the surface a few times. It, too, was a Brightly phone.

  She held up the screen for Eden to see. “This is my blog. I take pictures of cool fashions I see around the city.” She scrolled through photos of people wearing bizarre combinations of clothing.

  Eden scrunched up her nose. The girl’s idea of cool fashion was very different from her own.

  However, seeing the blog gave her an idea.

  “That’s on the Internet, right?”

  The girl gave her a strange look. “Yes, blogs are on the Internet.”

  That first night in New York, Pepper had used the Internet to find profile pages for Sasha and Tyler. Eden knew it wouldn’t be wise to call Pepper, but maybe there was another way to contact her.

  “What do you think?” the dark-haired girl asked. “Want to be on it?”

  “No,” Eden said. The girl’s face fell. “It’s a really nice blog,” Eden assured her. “But today’s not a good day for me to have my photo on the Internet. I need to fly under the radar.”

  The girl chewed on a fingernail. “Why? Because you’re skipping school?”

  Eden hoped the girl’s curiosity would make her willing to help. “What’s your name?” she asked.

  “Melodie. And you?”

  “Eden. Nice to meet you.”

  “Enchantée.”

  “Can I tell you a secret, Melodie?”

  Melodie’s eyes lit up. As she nodded, Eden could tell she was trying not to look overly eager.

  “I ran away from home this morning.”

  Melodie gasped. “Ran away! Why?”

  “It’s hard to explain. Suffice to say, it was a bad situation.”

  Color was rushing to Melodie’s cheeks. “That’s so cool.” She looked around to make sure no one was listening. “I’ve thought about running away,” she confessed.

  “Really?”

  “Oui. My parents don’t let me do anything. They ground me all the time. They’re awful.”

  “I’m glad you understand,” said Eden. It didn’t really sound like a comparable situation—but the important thing was that she sympathized. “Actually, I wonder if you can help me. I need to get in touch with a friend.”

  “Don’t you have a phone?”

  “Not with me. I left in a rush. There was no time to take anything.”

  Melodie held out her phone. “Pas de problème. Use mine.”

  But as soon as it was in Eden’s hand, she realized this was going to be tricky. Although she had a phone in New York, she almost never used it—and never to access the Internet. She tapped different symbols on the screen, but she didn’t get anywhere. And all the while, she was acutely aware of Melodie watching her struggle.

  “Actually, this might take a while.” Eden thrust the phone back at her. “I don’t want to use up your battery. Do you know where I might find a computer? One with the Internet on it.”

  Melodie touched the ring in her nose. Eden could see she was puzzled but intrigued. Melodie checked the chunky silver watch on her wrist.

  “The Sorbonne Library is about to open. It’s a few blocks away. You can use one there.”

  “Do I need money?”

  “Non. You do need a membership, but I’ve got one. I can take you.”

  “Thanks,” said Eden gratefully.

  The library was one of several yellowy stone buildin
gs that wore the name of the Sorbonne proudly engraved across them. It had the same classical elegance as many of the other buildings Eden had seen during her sprint across the city.

  Melodie led her through the front gates, then across a wide courtyard. She showed her card to a series of security guards, then led Eden up some stairs into a stunning reading room.

  Several long wooden tables crossed the room. They were lit by lamps with brass stands and green globes. The ceiling was covered with gorgeous paintings, and bookshelves lined the walls.

  Actually, the room looked like it would fit quite well back in Eden’s lamp—with the exception of the windows, of course. There were eight of them, spaced along the far wall with bookshelves between them. In front of each window was a computer.

  They went to one, and Melodie used her information to log on.

  “I’m going to look at art books,” she said, and wandered off.

  When she was gone, Eden sighed with relief. This would have been tough with Melodie watching over her shoulder. After all, it was her first time ever using a computer.

  She squinted at the screen and cracked her knuckles. First, she needed to access the Internet.

  She placed her hand on the mouse. From the line of icons at the bottom of the screen, a blue capital W looked like a good place to start.

  She rolled the mouse to point the arrow on it and clicked. Nothing happened, so she clicked a few more times in rapid succession. This time a white rectangle spread across the screen.

  Was this the Internet? Eden wasn’t sure.

  That night on the roof, Pepper had found Tyler’s profile by typing his full name and the city where he lived. Somehow, she’d gotten the Internet to search for it. Eden scrutinized the computer’s keyboard. Painstakingly, she sought out the letters to spell “Quincy Abbott New York City,” pecking the keys one by one with her index fingers.

  She stared at the screen. With the exception of the words she’d typed, it remained blank.

  She saw a key on the keyboard with the word ENTER printed on it. She pressed it, but the only thing that changed was that the blinking vertical line moved down to the space below her words.