Page 33 of Rule of Wolves

Fjerda had two great advantages: the size of their army and the speed at which they were able to turn out tanks. Nikolai could admit the tanks were well built too. They had a bad tendency to explode due to the fuel they used, but they were sturdier and faster than those his engineers had managed, even with Grisha Fabrikators in the lab.

“David’s mines will only buy us so much time,” said Tamar. “Once they’ve figured out how to track the metals, they’ll be sweeping the border.”

“It’s a long border,” noted Tolya.

“True,” said Nikolai. “And it has more gaps than my aunt Ludmilla’s teeth.”

Zoya shot him a dubious glance. “Did you actually have an aunt Ludmilla?”

“I did indeed. Hideous woman. Prone to stern lectures and handing out black licorice as a treat.” He shuddered. “May the Saints watch over her.”

“The point is we only have a short amount of time,” said Tolya.

Tamar clicked her tongue. “Hopefully enough time to forge this alliance with the Shu.”

Nikolai didn’t like to think of everything that might go wrong in the meantime. “Let us all pray to our Saints and the spirits of our bilious aunts.”

“If we could get more flyers in the air, none of it would matter,” said Tamar.

But like everything, that took money. They also had a shortage of trained pilots.

Zoya scowled. “None of it will matter if we have to fight a war on two fronts. We need a treaty with the Shu.”

“The wheels are already in motion,” said Tamar. “But if Princess Ehri isn’t willing—”

“She’ll be willing,” Nikolai promised with more surety than he felt.

“The Fjerdans could rally more quickly than we think,” said Tamar. “And West Ravka could still move to secede.”

She wasn’t wrong. But maybe their successes on the border would help West Ravka remember that there was no east or west, only one country—a country with friends and resources.

Tolya looped his reins over the horn of his saddle so that he could tie back his black hair. “If the Fjerdans do make a rash move, will the Kerch back them?”

They all looked to Zoya.

“I think the Merchant Council will be divided,” she said at last. “Hiram Schenck was feeling very smug about Kerch’s neutrality, and they’ve always preferred covert operations to outright war. But when the full breadth of our betrayal regarding the Zemeni becomes clear—”

“‘Betrayal’ seems an unfair word,” said Nikolai.

“Double cross?” suggested Tolya. “Deception?”

“I didn’t lie to the Kerch. They wanted technology that would give them dominion over the seas. They said nothing about the air. And honestly, taking two elements for yourself seems a bit greedy.”

Zoya’s brows rose. “You forget that in Kerch greed is a virtue.”

They emerged over a crest and the famous double walls of Os Alta came into view. It was called the Dream City, and when its white spires were seen from this distance, away from the clamor of the lower town and the pretense of the upper town, one could almost believe it.

Tamar stood up in her stirrups, stretching her back. “The Kerch may offer to support Vadik Demidov behind the scenes.”

“The Little Lantsov,” murmured Zoya.

“Is he short?” asked Nikolai.

Tamar laughed. “No one has thought to ask. But he is young. Just turned twenty.”

There was only one real question for Nikolai to ask. “And is he actually a Lantsov?”

“My sources can’t confirm or deny,” Tamar said. She had built up Ravka’s intelligence network, recruiting spies who wished to defect, training soldiers and Grisha who could be tailored to take on covert missions, but there were still plenty of holes in their information gathering. “I’m hoping the Termite will have better luck.”