Page 59 of Rule of Wolves

“Those frescoes are hundreds of years old!” she cried.

“Sometimes one must break with tradition. Quite literally. Now would someone please distract Genya?”

Nadia sat up a bit straighter. “There are three challenges to a rocket. Launching it without blowing it up. Arming it without blowing it up. And aiming it without blowing it up.”

Nikolai nodded. “I detect a theme.”

“We seem to be able to manage two out of the three, but never all three at once,” said Leoni, her sunny smile bright against her brown skin. Somehow she still managed to make it seem like she was delivering good news.

If they could master the rockets, Nikolai knew it would change everything. Ravka and Fjerda were nearly evenly matched in the air. But Fjerda had what could be a decisive advantage on the ground. The rockets would allow Nikolai to keep Ravka’s troops well away from the front lines, and they’d have a real answer to the might of Fjerda’s tanks. It would become a game of range.

“Just how big can these rockets get?” asked Nikolai.

“Big enough to level an entire factory,” said David. “Or half a city block.”

The room was suddenly very quiet, the reality of what they were discussing settling around them, making the air feel thick with the consequences of what they would decide here. Give me a chance to show you what might be, Nikolai had told Zoya. He’d meant peace. He’d meant compromise. Not this.

“At what distance?” Nikolai asked.

“I don’t really know,” said David. “The issue is weight. Steel is too heavy. Aluminum may be too. They’re fine for testing, but if we’re serious about using these rockets, we need a lighter metal.”

“Like what?”

“Titanium is lighter but more durable,” said Leoni. “And it doesn’t degrade.”

“It’s also rarer,” said Nadia, tucking a loose strand of her blond hair back into a twist. “We don’t have much of a stockpile.”

“Are we seriously considering this?” Genya said softly.

“I’ll give you the rockets we’ve been working on,” said David. “But even if we can source more titanium, I won’t build them bigger.”

“May I ask why?” said Nikolai, though he thought he knew.

“I won’t make a city killer.”

“And if it’s the threat we need?”

“If we build one,” said David, “it won’t stop with us. It never does.”

David was one of the most talented Fabrikators and thinkers of his time, maybe of any time. But his gifts had always been turned to waging war. That was the nature of being Ravkan. It had been for hundreds of years.

And David was right. Only a short time ago, they’d all been fighting with sabers and muskets, then the repeating rifle had come along and made swords all but useless. What they were talking about would be a frightening escalation, and once Ravka mastered targeted rockets, Fjerda would as well.

“We have to decide what kind of war we want to wage,” David said.

“I’m not sure we get to make that choice,” Nikolai replied. “We can’t ignore what will happen if Fjerda masters this technology first. And even if they don’t, they’re going to be ready the next time we meet.”

David was silent for a long moment. “The things the Darkling asked me to do … I did them mindlessly, thoughtlessly. I helped put the collar around Alina’s neck. I created the lumiya that allowed him to enter the Fold without her power. Without my help, he never could have … I won’t be responsible for this too.”

Nikolai turned his attention to Genya. “And do you agree with this?”

“No,” said Genya, taking David’s hand. “But I was the Darkling’s weapon too. I know what that feels like, and this is David’s choice to make.”

“We don’t have enough titanium for a city killer,” said Leoni, eager to make peace. “Maybe it doesn’t matter.”

“It matters,” said Adrik. “There’s no point to fighting a war if you don’t intend to win it.”

“There’s more,” said Nikolai. “There are rumors the Fjerdan crown prince may not survive the winter.”