The Education of Jade Evergreen - Book One: The Elk Hunters
Chapters One and Two Preview

The dream is an old town
The nightmare even older
I’m lost and wandering in
The places I’ve never been

The sun can’t help goin’ down
And the night, she comes on colder
I’m lost and wondering when
I’ll ever see you again

Jade Everly gasped awake, late September sweat clinging to her skin. The nightmare’s familiar scenario dissipated too slowly as she caught her breath. The dead brown field, the crying children, the old women cooing and pretending nothing was wrong. The thirst, the heat. The music, strange and impossible, louder than anything she could have imagined. So loud she had to hide in the corner of the tent, where summer air became thick in the stillness. It felt like drowning.

As she regained her senses, Jade heard the harsh plastic buzz of her pager as it rattled inside the drawer of her nightstand. Blindly, she reached in with automatic urgency, and grabbed it before it woke up the entire neighborhood. It shook her palm as she brought it close enough to read without her glasses; she pressed a button on its edge, her bleariness giving way as she tried to focus. A dim light barely illuminated the LCD display, revealing the urgent message: a five-digit code.

Jade groaned and sat up, her stomach lurching as she realized she would not be going back to sleep. She picked up the receiver of the phone on her nightstand and dialed the Rose City Answering Service. She’d called it so often in the past that she remembered it better than her own phone number. After two rings, an annoyingly familiar automated voice cheerfully announced she had dialed the Rose City Answering Service. As the voice started in on the menu options, she entered the five-digit code. The line went blissfully silent while the computer looked up the message and routed her call.

Five years ago, Jade’s life had changed forever. When Mt. St. Helens erupted, it blanketed the region with volcanic ash rich in a magical mineral called thaumatite. In the aftermath, Jade had found herself reborn, in multiple ways. Something inside her, a voice from beyond space and time called The Maidensong, had revealed to her two truths: first, that she was actually a girl; and second, that she could wield magic through the Maidensong itself. And ever since, she had been leading a double life: one as Jade Everly, perfectly normal transsexual, and another as Jade Evergreen, Portland’s only magical girl.

Jade found out pretty quickly that it was hard to keep a secret as big as Jade Evergreen from everyone. First to discover it was Catherine Chase, a scoop hound for the student newspaper who had spotted her fighting a haunted tarot deck one night. And later, a serious woman calling herself Commander Havelock conscripted both of them into The Starlight Alliance, a secret support network for magical girls all over the world.

She checked her watch while she waited.

12:41 a.m.

She hadn’t even been asleep an hour. At last, she heard a heavy click on the line, and listened as the tape hiss kicked in. Commander Havelock spoke in her clipped, professional tone: “Good morning, Agent Evergreen. Potential thaumatite infestation detected downtown. Investigate and report findings. Good luck.”

Jade hung up the phone. She wondered how much luck—good or otherwise—could be involved in a night-shift request before her first day of college. Yawning, she stood and dressed in her nighttime skulking outfit, then kneeled down in front of her bed and groped under it for her guitar case.

Since becoming a magical girl, she hadn’t needed to use her guitar case to hold her actual guitar; one of the first things she learned was how to deposit and summon it from the magical void where The Maidensong resided. The case had instead become a convenient spot to deposit Starlight Alliance gear. Jade opened the case and removed an item the Alliance called a Portable Thaumatite Sensor.

The Commander had given the prototype device to Cathy originally, and it let her help Jade by pointing out the direction and strength of thaumatite magica sources. The sensor itself looked homemade, a two-piece aluminum box about the size and shape of an electrical outlet, with a short length of iron pipe screwed into the bottom as a handle. Jade closed the guitar case, sliding it back under her bed.

It thumped against the back wall. Jade winced, and hoped that wasn’t enough to wake Yvette. Her new roommate was the daughter of friends Jade’s parents had made as they’d toured the west coast with the Dead back in the ‘70s. As a little kid in those caravans, Jade had looked up to Yvette. Naturally, Yvette had looked down on a kid five years younger than her with more than a little disdain. But as Jade grew up into a more interesting person, Yvette warmed up to her. On their last tour together in ’78, busking for change, they finally became friends. Yvette had promised that they’d hang out more when they were both out of high school.

Three weeks ago, Yvette and her parents had shown up to go out on tour with Jade’s parents “one more time.” True to her word, Yvette had stayed behind, taking the other bedroom upstairs. They hadn’t really spent much time together yet. While Jade had been busy preparing for school, Yvette had been just as busy exploring Portland’s lesbian club scene, and was gone more often than she was home.

Jade heard a soft knock on her door, and a murmured, “Everything okay, kid?”

“Sorry,” she said, “it’s just a thing for my job. Security guard stuff.”

Yvette muttered, “We gotta find you a new job.”

“At least it pays well,” Jade offered.

“Yeah, that’s something.” Jade heard Yvette yawn. “Well, good luck. I’m going back to bed.”

“Sleep tight.”

A chuckle. “I always do.”

Jade heard the door to Yvette’s bedroom close. She grabbed the thaumatite sensor and her backpack off the top of the old steamer trunk at the foot of her bed. If worst came to worst, she could pull an all-nighter and still make it to class later. For a moment, she paused at her bookcase, then picked up her copy of Vivian Temple’s The Case of the Cursed Ring, her favorite Beverly Turtledove novel, and slipped it into her backpack. A little extra luck never hurt.

Before Mom and Dad left in their 1968 Volkswagen Microbus, they gifted Jade and Yvette the keys to Dad’s new car, a white 1983 Chevy Camaro. Dad had taught Jade how to use the clutch, but the vehicle still intimidated her. It was loud and aggressive in ways that excited her, but it felt a little like riding a tiger.

Thankfully, an utterly empty Hawthorne Boulevard and the cold wind from her rolled-down window woke Jade up enough to think on her drive west. Because of the ash cleanup efforts, it had been almost two years since anything thaumatite-related had enchanted itself. But if most of the ash had been neutralized, why had the Alliance been able to detect an infestation now? And why downtown?

She pulled into the 24-hour parking structure at Fourth and Pine and picked a spot at the northwest corner of the roof. She killed the headlights and the engine, grabbed the sensor from the passenger seat, and locked the door. Jade felt a familiar shiver in her chest and noticed her hand was shaking, just a little.

The Maidensong stirred.

When she was sure nobody was around, she raised her right hand and called upon her microphone. It shimmered into existence just in her grasp, emerald facets shining in the light of the moon. She closed her fingers around it. The warmth of the magica coursed down from her fingertips to her arm, across her chest, into her heart. There it found her song, and the resonance built up inside her until she couldn’t help but say the words:

“Maidensong Harmony Power… Go live!”

She stepped off of the concrete into thin air; this was her favorite part.

Weightless, nearly formless, the power inside her rearranged the very reality around her. Clothes shattered like crystal, the essence of them becoming ribbons of light that wrapped around her, caressed her, dressed her in the uniform of her power. Duct-taped black canvas sneakers became dark leather boots, cuffed below the knee like a pirate’s. Faded denim jeans became a pleated skirt, her paint-stained sweatshirt transformed into a jade-colored naval long coat. Her black T-shirt unfurled into a billowy white blouse, flowing out from between the jacket’s lapels in an explosion of ruffles.

Auburn locks gathered to one side of Jade’s head, cascading down longer and thicker, a wildfire pushed by an invisible breath of wind. She felt the chunky dangling earrings touch her lobes, still weightless with her, and the streaking heat of the dark green stripe as it imprinted itself across her eyes.

The transformation complete, she eased back to the concrete.

Her boots clacked as she approached the edge of the parking structure. She looked out at the empty streets, dry riverbeds that traced canyons of glass and steel. She turned the sensor on, and waited as it warmed up. The face of it looked like an electric eye, with a white light bulb the size of a quarter in the center, and small green lights arcing gently over it. The center bulb glowed dimly; there was some magica in the air, sure enough. Eventually, the arc of green lights flashed to life, all twelve blinking as it performed its self-calibration routine.

Jade frowned when she saw the green lights swing wildly between both ends of the arc, like a windshield wiper on high speed. She heard every complaint Cathy had leveled at it ringing in her ears like a Greek chorus.

“Did you smack it?” She imitated herself under her breath, and hit the side of the device with the heel of her hand, but it didn’t seem to improve anything. The center bulb did glow brighter; something was definitely happening, but she had no idea where the magica was coming from. She ran to the other end of the parking structure and tried there, but the readings were no better. So much for the rooftop approach; she’d just have to pick a direction and start walking.

Halfway down the stairs, a metallic groan echoed against the concrete from somewhere outside. She sprinted down, taking the rest of the stairs two at a time until she hit the sidewalk. She swept the sensor; the center bulb flashed erratically, the green arc refusing to give a direction. There was a grinding stone rumble, then another rending shriek of metal. This time she could hear where it came from.

Jade sprinted down Fourth Avenue, south toward the plaza blocks, feeling the burn in her legs as they warmed up to the speed. Another crash, almost melodic, rang out ahead of her. It sounded like someone was using church bells to demolish a church. The sensor’s center bulb shone as bright as a flashlight in her grip as she pumped her arms in a sprint. She was getting close.

She slowed to a jog as she approached Salmon Street; the tree-filled Plaza Blocks loomed ahead, three squares of forest in the middle of the city. If something large, heavy, and metallic was thrashing around in this area, it could easily be in there. And if it was, Jade had a good idea of what it might be.

She crouched as she passed along the outside of the first wooded block, and checked the sensor; sure enough, the bulb was at maximum brightness. The arc seemed more steady now, pointing ahead and to her left. As she rounded to Main Street, her suspicions were confirmed.

The Thompson Elk statue normally stood proud right at the center of Main Street, on a rectangular concrete plinth inside a great, octagonal fountain. The fountain split traffic on Main, making it impossible to miss. Except the elk was not on its plinth, nor anywhere near the fountain. Jade scanned the blocks on either side of the street, but her view was obscured by the large deciduous and coniferous trees that dotted the parks.

She crept forward, making single steps toward the fountain, using her own movement to determine if there was a figure standing still between the trees. A glint of oxide green caught her eye in the park to her left, contrasting against the ruddy, thick trunk of a pine tree. She edged closer for a better look, and saw it.

On the ground, the elk looked like a specter. The bronze of its surface had long ago oxidized to bright green, and under the street lamps and the waxing moon, it glowed faintly. It stood with its shoulders hunched, head lowered, its massive antlers pointed forward.

The elk’s tail twitched back and forth. A hollow, metallic snort erupted from its nostrils, and it stomped one of its front hooves, the impact reverberating through its body like a gong. It was obviously angry at something.

As Jade approached, she saw the target of the elk’s ire: a kid, backed up against the trunk of a pine tree. He brandished a skateboard by its axles like a shield. Between the tolling chimes of the elk’s hoof, Jade could hear the kid trying to talk to it.

“That’s a good boy,” he said. “You don’t wanna hurt me, I’m soft and made of meat. You don’t eat meat, do you?”

The elk snorted again, and shook its antlers violently.

The kid kept talking. “Yeah, what was I thinking? Of course you do-oo-oNN’T!”

The elk charged, and the kid leapt out of the way, rolling with a rough-hewn skateboarder’s grace. The beast slammed into the tree, its antlers sinking into the bark. It was stuck.

Jade saw her chance, but she needed both hands to use her guitar. She cursed under her breath; the stupid sensor was Cathy’s anyway. The elk screamed, and the bark creaked from the strain as it tried to pull itself free. Whatever she was going to do, she needed to do it quick. Wincing, she slid the sensor in the vague direction of the fountain, and bolted forward.

“Hey!” She yelled as she ran toward the elk. “I’ve got this! Just run!”

The kid looked at her, stunned. Jade circled to put herself between him and the elk, reaching out and summoning her acoustic guitar. In a cloud of viridian dust, it appeared, ready to play. She strummed, finding a chord that resonated with the elk’s metallic tones. Her strings, made of pure magica, vibrated with a gentle emerald glow, the music shimmering in waves. After a few attempts, she found it, a C major 7, tense and haunted. She strummed the chord hard and watched the wave of magica press against the elk, absorbing its vibrations, draining the enchantment’s energy. Years ago, she would have played an entire song, hoping it would work; but now all she had to do was find its frequency and she could—

“Who the hell are you?”

Jade whipped her head around at the kid.

“Animal control, now get outta here!”

The kid scrambled out of Jade’s line of sight; she heard a dull wooden groan and turned her attention back to the elk. It wasn’t free yet, but she didn’t have much time. She drew the strap of her guitar over her neck and rotated it so it hung upside down from her back. As she let go of the neck, she concentrated, extending the concept of her guitar’s magical strings into her fingertips, holding them between her middle finger and thumb, braiding the magica into a glittering rope. It sang in her hand, that same ghostly chord. She wound it like a lasso in her other hand, the loops resonating into spectral octaves that hummed in her grip.

The groaning turned to snapping. It would have to be now. She imagined a weight at the end of her new rope and began swinging it around her. Catch the neck, bring it down, tie the legs. She could do this.

Suddenly, something non-corporeal streaked past her ear. It flashed bright yellow as it exploded against the tree trunk. Jade’s concentration broke, and the magical rope in her hand disappeared into discordance. The elk bucked; the explosion had busted it free.

Wild-eyed, it caught sight of Jade, and charged.

Jade had just enough time to set her stance. She leapt straight up as it reached her, twisting in the air to land on the bronze beast’s back. She gasped from the pain, but managed to grab the antlers to steady herself. If she could pull it down to one side, maybe she could tie it. She could—

Another flash of yellow blasted past her, this time just behind the elk’s haunches; these weren’t an accident. The elk screamed and leapt forward, twisting its head back and forth, kicking up a cloud of dust from the park’s dry summer dirt. It bucked like a horse, once, twice, until Jade’s grip finally slipped.

She crashed to the ground, pulling her guitar into her hands as she rolled. Half blind from the dust, she fingered the chord again, and pulled back the strings at the bridge of the guitar with her other hand. She fired four tuned arrows toward where she guessed the elk would be, hoping the waves would weaken it.

She felt the antlers before she saw them, felt herself flying, floating, falling. Felt the tree slam into the back of her head. She opened her eyes for a moment and thought she saw someone up in the branches, holding what looked like a longbow with a glowing golden string. As she lost consciousness, the figure shook its head, slipped behind the trunk of the tree, and disappeared in a flash of occluded light.

“I’ll get help!” She heard the kid yell from underground, from underwater, from the center of the earth.

Geologically slow, she ascended. The air sizzled in her ears as she regained consciousness. She staggered to her feet, felt her body with her hands. Her left shoulder blazed with pain, but at least she could move. The texture of the fabric told her she was back in her street clothes, recognizable, vulnerable. She coughed and saw sparkles in her vision, tasted blood. She had to move, and keep moving, anywhere but here.

She stumbled several steps, gradually steadying into a stiff walk. The elk was nowhere to be found, but she could at least beat a hasty retreat back to the car. She’d hide out there until she was sure the kid had given up on her, then get back to tracking down the elk. She saw the parking structure ahead and attempted a jog.

Jade lost track of the ground; it had moved to her left. She reeled, slamming into the wall of the parking structure. Or, maybe it would be better to turn on the radio and try not to lose any time for a couple of hours while she recovered. She hit the up button to call the elevator and waited, leaning against the cold concrete. If she was lucky, she could still get a few hours of sleep before literature class.