Warlands of Song

Three: Saige

Saige stared at the plate of food she'd found on her porch the night before while she waited for her coffee to brew. It looked and smelled delicious. Much better than the tiny snacks she'd thrown into her bag as she ran. The question of who had left it for her and why, however, wasn't a small issue. What if it was poisoned? But who would poison it? The man she'd seen the night before... Had he left it? How had he found her to begin with? Was it routine for her mountain neighbors to explore the woods beyond their home?

Her stomach growled, but she pushed the plate aside and rose to pour fresh coffee into one of the plastic cups she'd purchased on her long drive to the mountains. Her trip was tense and full of unknowns. She had no destination in mind, only that knowledge she needed to go far away. One road led to another, until she was leaving the state, and then she was crossing many more to reach this little cabin in the mountains. The whys were unknown, but now that she was here, she felt safe. She felt like she was home. It had been a while since she'd felt that way.

But now she needed food. Her credit cards, cell phone, checks, and bank account, were all gone. Necessary, each and every move. Now she'd have to tap into her master account again and create yet another identity. Her plastic cup thumped onto the table, nearly tipping over. She rescued her coffee and sat back. Another identity to add to the hundreds she'd already created over the years. Why couldn't she just be herself?

If she'd been killed, she would've died a fake. A character, created out of fear and necessity. She could die in peace if she were allowed—just once—to be herself. Or maybe she could live in peace. Why should she continue to hide? She couldn't be harmed. She had no one to fear.

She finished her coffee and poured more. Lies. Each and every time she attempted to convince herself of them, she found it impossible. She had so much to fear, and much more was at stake than her own life. So with a heavy heart, she banished the thoughts of freedom from her mind and dressed, preparing for a quick run to the grocery store.

She wished she'd brought a coat. All she had was a jacket. In her defense, she hadn't been planning to move somewhere cold. It had just happened. But now she was left with few options to choose from when it came to clothing. Whatever was warm and didn't mean death. As in... her jacket. Great options.

"Idiot. Why would you come to the mountains without a coat when you can die in the cold?"

She left her cabin, clutching her coffee like a lifeline. Before she could reach the vehicle, someone called over to her.

"Excuse me?"

So close, yet so far. Her eyes rolled to the sky and she took a fortifying sip before turning around. There was no mistaking the voice of the man from the night before. Her heart jumped a bit before she remembered that he wouldn't remember seeing her the night before. Nude, alone, singing as though no one was around and her voice wasn't a deadly weapon.

"Yes?"

The night before, he'd been obscured by the steam of the hot spring, but in the light she was surprised. His voice held a rough edge, but his appearance was the opposite.

"I noticed you moving in yesterday, and wanted to officially introduce myself. I would have gotten my roommate to come along, but he's not very social."

He neared, and held out a hand, grinning. "I'm Glen."

She eyed his hand for a bit, wondering if she should even attempt to be polite. Finally, she extended her own hand. "Pleasure."

He held onto her hand with a gentle grip when she tried to extract hers. His head tilted a touch to the side, and he waited. Right, for her name. What was her name this time around? Her lips opened to blow out a small puff of air which emerged in clouds.