Violetshine wished desperately that Tree were with them, but he had gone with Leafstar to RiverClan, in case any trouble arose between the two Clans. He would know what to do now, she thought miserably.

“You know,” Rowanclaw went on when they had followed the trail for several more fox-lengths, “I feel I ought to know the scent of these two other cats, but I just can’t place it.”

“They’re not two of Darktail’s rogues, are they?” Macgyver asked. “I heard they weren’t all killed.”

Violetshine took another deep sniff of the two scents, then shook her head. “No. I would know them,” she replied with a shudder, remembering the terrible time she had spent living with Darktail and his Kin.

She had noticed a tang of blood mingled with the scents, and hoped desperately it hadn’t come from the kits. It’s cat blood, not prey, she thought. Maybe these strange cats fought. Or maybe Tawnypelt . . .

Her pondering broke off as Rowanclaw suddenly halted, staring into the trees. “Now I get it!” he exclaimed.

“Get what?” Yarrowleaf asked.

“I get where we’re going. This is the way to the Twoleg nest in the old ShadowClan territory. And now I recognize those scents. They come from those two crow-food-eating kittypets!”

Macgyver looked puzzled. “Sleekwhisker is taking the kits to Twolegs?”

Yarrowleaf let out a wail, only for Rowanclaw to slap his tail over her mouth.

“Quiet, mouse-brain!” he hissed. “Do you want them to know we’re here?”

“Oh, I’m sure you don’t.” An amused voice came from somewhere overhead. “That would be a really bad idea.”

Violetshine looked up to see a huge black-and-white tom sprawled on the lowest branch of a pine tree. He had a torn ear and a fresh scratch over his nose, and powerful claws that dug into the tree bark.

“That’s a kittypet?” she breathed out.

“Didn’t your mother tell you about us?” the huge tom rasped, the amusement vanishing from his tone. “Behave yourself or the big fierce kittypets will get you?”

“Jacques! We’ve had trouble with Jacques and his friend, Susan, in the past,” Rowanclaw told Violetshine. “But I guess by the time you came to the forest we had enough to worry about with Darktail.”

“Have you got my kits?” Yarrowleaf asked tremulously. “Oh, please give them back!”

“No, I haven’t got your kits, flea-brain,” the tom sneered. “But I know where they are. Do you want me to show you?”

“Oh, please!” Yarrowleaf begged.

“Okay.” The black-and-white tom rose to his paws on the branch and arched his back in a good long stretch. “But lay one claw on me and you’ll never see your kits again.” He jumped down from the branch and landed with a soft thump at Rowanclaw’s side. Violetshine wrinkled her nose at his unfamiliar scent.

“This way,” the tom meowed, with a wave of his tail.