Jane Cross's Arc

Chapter 3 of 5

Jane wrapped fresh bandages around the stranger's chest, keeping her movements steady even as her pulse hammered. The stranger had passed out again, which made the work easier but didn't change the problem. She had no way to move them, and staying here meant risking whatever had driven them to this ruin in the first place. Voices carried across the courtyard. Jane moved to the window and peered through the gaps in the wooden shutters. Soldiers filed through the main gate, at least a dozen of them, spreading out among the broken walls. They wore no insignia she recognized, but they moved with purpose. One group stopped at a weathered stone near the entrance, setting up a command point. Another pair hauled something between them — a flat stone altar stained dark across its surface, wooden tokens scattered at their feet as they set it down. The lead soldier lifted a cloth bundle from the altar and unrolled it. Jane caught a glimpse of parchment covered in ink marks before he turned away. She pulled back from the window, her mind racing. They were sealing the perimeter, and whatever they carried on that altar was connected to their search. The stranger behind her stirred, mumbling something about Lucaino again. Jane had come here following one trail and found it tangled with another. Now armed men blocked both paths forward, and she had to choose: hide and hope they passed, or find out what they wanted before the decision was taken from her. Jane grabbed the stranger's torn cloak and draped it over the bloodied supplies, then stepped outside. A soldier spotted her immediately and called out. She raised both hands, keeping them visible. The lead soldier approached, his hand on his sword hilt. He stopped three paces away, eyes narrowing. "You're the healer from the waystation," he said. Not a question. Jane held his gaze and nodded once. He gestured toward the cottage. "Anyone else inside?" She could lie and buy time, or she could tell the truth and lose control of what happened next. The stranger's fevered words echoed in her mind — the shipment was a trap. Whatever these soldiers were hunting, it had already caught someone. Jane needed to know if that someone was connected to the parent she'd spent three years searching for, and standing here pretending ignorance wouldn't get her answers. "One person," she said. "Badly injured. They need help, not arrest." The soldier's expression didn't change, but his hand left his sword. He called over his shoulder, and two more soldiers moved toward the cottage door.