Of course, she didn’t actually die. For one thing, she couldn’t. But also, she was saved.

As she flailed and gasped, an arm encircled her waist and pulled her to the surface. The first gulp of air was like a knife to her chest, and the struggle didn’t end as she was towed to shore through violent, unforgiving waves.

At last she and her savior reached dry land. He laid her flat on her back on the sand. Gagging, she coughed up a foul mouthful of water. Tears streamed from her eyes; her hands shook; her heart thumped painfully. Desperately she pushed up her sleeve and reached for her bracelet. When she felt its familiar shape, relief rushed over her.

Finally she staggered to her feet on legs as weak as a foal’s. Before her was a crowd of gaping onlookers. As she gazed at them, they burst into cheers. With a jolt of shock, it hit her that they’d gathered to watch her rescue.

As her terror receded and the pain faded away, she became indignant. Attention was the last thing she needed. She turned to see who had dragged her into the limelight.

Somehow he looked familiar, though it was nearly impossible that they’d met before. He wasn’t much older than Eden, but he stood several inches taller. He wore black swim trunks printed with a logo in green and blue. The sun had browned his skin to an even tan and sprinkled freckles across his face. His hair was dark and shaggy, with bangs that he tossed to the side with a whip of his head.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m…fine,” she said, her irritation fading. The observers were starting to disperse, but one of them came forward to stand beside him. It was the girl who’d kicked her in the head—the first mortal she’d seen.

“Are you sure?” the girl asked. She set her sunglasses on top of her head. “You were under for a really long time.” She turned to the boy. “The lifeguards at this beach are worthless.” And at once Eden realized why he looked so familiar: the two of them were nearly identical. The boy was slightly taller, but their swimmers’ bodies, tan skin, freckles, and shiny straight chestnut hair were the same.

“You’re twins!” she said.

The boy laughed. “Not quite. I’m a year older.”

“But people think that all the time,” the girl said.

The boy stuck out his hand. “I’m Tyler Rockwell. And this is my sister, Sasha.”

It took Eden a moment to remember that handshakes were standard etiquette for American mortals when they met one another. She’d learned about them, but hadn’t had an occasion to perform one. She reached out and took the hand in her own, then gave it a good firm shake. She was pretty sure that was how it was meant to go.

“I’m Eden,” she said.

“Like the garden.” Tyler smiled.

“Is that where you’re from? The beginning of time?” Sasha smirked. “I mean, you’re obviously not from around here. First you’re buried in the sand, then you’re drowning in the ocean.”

“I just arrived,” said Eden breathlessly.

“No kidding. You didn’t exactly dress for the weather, did you?”

She looked down at her nightgown, now heavy with ocean water and hanging off her frame.

“Where are you from?” Tyler asked.

Eden frowned, wondering how to answer. “Sweden,” she said at last.

“Eden from Sweden,” Sasha said. “O-kay. Is this normal beach attire there?”

Tyler smacked her thigh with the back of his hand. “What?” she said. “I mean, come on!”

“Did the airline lose your luggage?” Tyler asked. “I’ve heard that happens all the time.”

“Yeah,” Eden agreed gratefully. “Can you believe it?”

Tyler eyed his sister. “Sasha,” he said, “don’t you always bring an extra swimsuit?”

Sasha looked at him disbelievingly. “Tyler! We don’t even know her.”

He raised his eyebrows at her. Eden’s heart raced at the thought of changing out of her nightgown.

“Fine!” Sasha rolled her eyes and started digging in the tropical-print beach bag on her shoulder. She came up with a fistful of blue fabric and pushed it toward Eden.

“Thank you,” Eden breathed. She’d never meant the words more.

Changing in the cramped stall of the beach restroom would have been difficult even if Eden knew how to put on a bikini, but she’d never had a reason to wear one before. Eventually she figured out which piece of flimsy fabric went where and which strings to tie in order to hold it all together.

“So. Have you moved here, or are you visiting?” Sasha asked from the other side of the bathroom stall’s door.

Eden blinked. She was going to have to develop her alibi. For now, best to keep things vague. “I’ll be here for a while,” she said.

“Where are your parents? You didn’t come here by yourself, did you?”

Eden stepped out of the stall and gasped at her reflection in the dim, smudged mirror. Instinctively she covered her chest and exposed stomach with her hands. She was nearly naked! She’d never worn so little clothing outside her bedroom before.

“What’s wrong?” Sasha asked. “Looks like it fits.”

This was what mortals did, Eden reminded herself. She was living like them now.

“If you want, you can put this on over.” Sasha handed her a sheer cotton dress that was really just a long tank top. Eden felt much more comfortable with it on.

“Um…” Sasha was looking doubtfully at the wet nightgown balled up in Eden’s hand. “Do you want to lay that out to dry?”

“Are you kidding? No.” Eden tossed it into the garbage can. No matter what came to pass, she could never wear it again. “Worst outfit choice of my life.”

Sasha laughed. “Ever since you climbed out of the sand, I’ve been wondering what in the world you were thinking when you got dressed this morning.”

“Trust me, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

Tyler was waiting just outside the restrooms, with two surfboards leaning against the wall next to him. Another boy was with him. He was husky, with curly red hair and mischief in his eyes. “There you are!” Tyler said, grinning at Sasha. “We’re starving. Let’s go get burritos!”

“You’re leaving?” Eden asked Sasha.

“Yeah, we still haven’t had lunch.”

The redheaded boy looked at Eden. “Dude. You’re the girl who almost drowned? That was gnarly.”

“I can get this stuff back from you some other time,” Sasha said. She pulled out a slim black device and touched some of the images displayed on the screen, then handed it over. “Put in your number.” Eden was mystified for a moment, but then she realized: a cell phone. She’d learned about them in the lamp—and even seen a few on grantings—but there had never been an opportunity to use one. She stared at it dazedly.

“Um, I don’t—”

“Oh! Your Swedish phone probably doesn’t work here, right? Unless you have international roaming.”

“I—”

“Hello,” said a beautiful woman who seemed to have materialized right in front of her. Her dark brown hair was slicked into a low ponytail, and huge sunglasses covered her eyes. She wore a navy-blue polka-dot swimsuit.

“I saw your rescue from the ocean. It’s lucky that this young man is such a good swimmer,” she said, nodding toward Tyler.

He eyed her skeptically.

“I couldn’t help but notice that gorgeous bracelet you’re wearing,” the woman said. “Can I see it?”

Eden’s heart drummed with suspicion.

“Please?” the woman asked. “Just a look.”

Slowly Eden held out her wrist in front of her. Quick as lightning, the woman pulled out a cell phone and pressed a button that made an electronic click.

Had she taken a photo? Eden jerked her wrist away.

“That looks like a very special bracelet. Where did you get it?”

Eden squinted at the woman. Did something about her look familiar? But that was impossible. She didn’t know anyone on Earth.

“It’s a family heirloom.”

“Fascinating.” The woman adjusted her sunglasses. “I wonder if I could take you for a bite to eat. We can chat about that bracelet, and other things.”

“Actually, she’s coming with us,” Tyler interjected. “Right?” He widened his eyes at Eden. “Want to come have a burrito?”

Her heart nearly leaped out of her chest. “I love burritos!”

“They have burritos in Sweden?” Sasha asked doubtfully.

The woman seemed perturbed. “Maybe we’ll see each other again,” she said, though Eden couldn’t imagine why they would. “What was your name?”

“Eden.”

“Eden.” The woman broke into a smile, showing perfect white teeth. “I do hope we’ll meet again.”

“What was that all about?” Sasha asked as they walked away.

Eden shrugged, trying to forget the weird interaction. She was glad to leave the woman behind. But she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that she’d seen her before—or the suspicion that she’d see her again.

Violet’s phone buzzed. Her boss hadn’t stopped texting since she’d sent her the photo of the girl who’d been rescued from the ocean: the girl whose face she and her colleagues had memorized nearly two years earlier. They’d gotten the image from a stolen parchment-paper message.

Now that she’d captured a close-up of the bracelet, there was no question. That bracelet could only mean one thing.

This time it was a call. Sighing, Violet answered.

“What’s happening?” demanded the voice on the other end.

“They’re walking to a burrito shack down the road. I’m following.”

“You couldn’t get her away?”

“She wouldn’t come.”

“Is she still with the boy who saved her?”

“Yes, and another boy, and a girl. His sister, I think.”

“Violet, you don’t have long. Whichever of those kids is her wisher will make those wishes faster than you can say ‘paradise.’”

“I know. I’m doing the best I can.”

Her boss was silent. Violet could picture her in the back of her black limo, speeding through Paris to the airport where her private jet would be waiting. She’d be white-knuckled, stilettos tapping like mad. Thinking of a way to get what they all wanted, obsessed over, lived for.

“You still haven’t seen the lamp?”

“No.”

“You’ve got to find out where it is. It can’t be far.”

“I know.”

“And you’ve got to get her away from those mortals.”

Violet glanced at the row of kids walking fifty feet ahead. “I know.”

“He could make those wishes at any moment. And once he does, the lamp will be out of our reach again. In a new randomly selected spot, anywhere on Earth.”

“I know. I know how the lamp works as well as you do. Remember?”

“Right.” Violet’s boss took a deep breath. “Violet, I trust you.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mess up.” The line went dead.

Violet rolled her eyes. Her boss was such a micromanager. But Violet knew she was excited, too. It was a huge coup that she’d spotted the girl: Electra’s first genie sighting in over fifty years. And where the genie was, the lamp couldn’t be far.

Naturally, it had happened when Violet was supposed to be on vacation. As if that really existed for the women who were part of Electra—or, as they’d come to be known, the Electric. Their work was their passion and their purpose. It had been that way for centuries. Violet’s boss, the founder, was a woman whose devotion to the cause was unsurpassed.

After all, this was no normal business. The Electric had committed their lives to acquiring the lamp.

Violet rubbed the place on her right wrist where she used to wear her own genie bracelet. She’d taken it off centuries ago. Her boss forbade them, teaching that they signified the tyranny they’d all lived under at one point. Removing the bracelet showed you were free.

Up ahead, she watched the brother and sister lean their surfboards against the stucco exterior of a Mexican restaurant; then the four kids went inside. Violet sat at a discreet table outside the café next door.

She had a good feeling about this. At last, here was a chance to prove her worth—to her boss, and to the others. She wouldn’t let it pass her by.