CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
The aftermath of the siege took longer to process than the battle itself.
Compound Seven had survived, but barely. A third of the buildings were damaged or destroyed. Casualties numbered in the hundreds—soldiers, civilians, people Olivia had known by name. The medical tents overflowed. The graveyard expanded.
Olivia walked through the ruins the morning after, her body aching, her mind numb. She passed families huddled around fires, soldiers stacking bodies for burial, workers clearing rubble with exhausted determination.
"We lost the armoury," Cass reported, falling into step beside her. Cass had a bandage wrapped around her head, blood seeping through, but she was walking. "And the eastern barracks. But the civilian shelters held. The walls are being reinforced."
"How many dead?"
"Two hundred and forty-seven. Another hundred wounded. It's... it's bad, Olivia."
"I know."
They walked in silence. The compound smelled of smoke and death and the ozone tang of spent essence. But underneath, something else: resilience. People were already rebuilding, already moving forward, already refusing to let the darkness win.
"The Irregulars?" Olivia asked.
"All alive. Dee took a shrapnel hit to the leg. Jax has a concussion. But they're okay."
"And Sable?"
"Resting. She pushed herself past every limit. Aisha says she needs a week of sleep or she'll collapse."
"She'll get three days. Then she'll be back at work."
Cass smiled grimly. "Probably."
They reached the centre of the compound, where the breach had been. The ground was scorched in a perfect circle, the concrete melted and reformed into glassy black stone. At the centre, a sapling grew.
Olivia stared at it. "Is that...?"
"It appeared this morning. No one planted it." Cass crouched beside it, careful not to touch. "It looks like the World-Tree. Miniature. But the same kind."
Olivia knelt, extending her hand. The sapling responded to her presence, its leaves trembling, its bark warming. She could feel it—alive, connected, a piece of the World-Tree that had somehow taken root in their world.
"It's a gift," she whispered. "From the tree. A sign that we're healing. That the Veil is stabilizing."
"Or a target. Something else for the Sovereign to destroy."
"Maybe. But I think... I think it's hope." Olivia touched the sapling gently. "And hope is worth protecting."
She stood, looking at the scorched circle, the tiny tree, the compound rising from ashes around her.
"We need to rebuild. Not just walls and buildings—we need to rebuild trust. Community. The belief that we're going to make it."
"How?"
"By being here. By fighting. By refusing to give up." Olivia turned to face Cass. "The Thornwood Irregulars are going to expand. I want you to lead a second team. Train them the way I trained you. Find more people like us—underestimated, overlooked, dismissed—and show them what they can be."
"You want me to train the misfits?"
"I want you to build an army of misfits. Because that's who's going to win this war. Not the strongest. Not the fastest. The ones who refuse to quit."
Cass studied her for a long moment. Then she extended her hand. "Deal."
They shook on it, two unlikely allies who'd become something like friends.