A HARD WIND BLEW OFF the shore to the west, and Nikolai wondered if he’d made a terrible mistake. The terrain that stretched before him was rocky and desolate. No mud, at least. But that also meant an easier road for Fjerda’s tanks. He’d hoped the forest might slow them down, but the Fjerdans simply dosed their Grisha and had the drugged Squallers level the trees, obliterating woods that had stood guard along the northern border for hundreds of years, their heavy trunks cast aside like so much driftwood. The sky was the dark slate of early morning, stars still visible above the horizon. When he peered toward the coast, he could just make out the soft gray line of the sea. Maybe some of those fallen trees would roll all the way to the cliffs and tumble into the waves. Maybe the current would carry them to a faraway shore to trouble some fisherman or maybe they would wash up on a beach and become lumber for someone’s home. A family would gather beneath a new roof, never knowing they sheltered under a little piece of Ravka, a fractured part of a country that might never be made whole.

Once Nikolai’s scouts and flyers had confirmed Fjerdan troop movements, Ravka’s forces had set up camp on a low rise north of the tiny town of Pachesyana. The grubby little village served as their base of operations as General Pensky sent out First Army troops to dig trenches—some deep and wide enough to stop a tank, others that they would use to protect their rocket launch platforms.

Nikolai hadn’t known where the Fjerdans might attack, and that had meant Ravka couldn’t mount a defense. So he’d let Sturmhond’s blockade give way and tempted them with the chance at a two-pronged attack—at the bay and here at the border near Arkesk. He’d given the wolf an opportunity to wrap its jaws around Os Kervo and seize West Ravka in a single tremendous bite.

A risky wager, but was it the right one? He’d know soon enough.

Nikolai didn’t wait for dawn to break. In the muddy fields at Nezkii, they’d hidden until the very last moment. Not today. Today, there would be no grand subterfuge, no mines to greet the Fjerdans in the field. Instead the enemy would wake to a show of force that Nikolai hoped would make them think twice.

“Sun Soldiers!” shouted Adrik. The order moved through the ranks of gathered Grisha and First Army.