Aiko returned to the ravine before the sun had reached the tops of the pines. The path down was narrow and slick with night mist. Ferns brushed against her legs. Pebbles rolled beneath her paws and dropped into the dark below, clicking once, twice, then vanishing into the sound of water. She moved carefully. Not because she feared the path. Because she did not want anyone to hear her coming. The Crimson Paw’s camp lay in the hollow of the ravine, hidden by rock, cedar roots, and a curtain of...