The kits didn't wait for an explanation. They didn't even wait for a goodbye. When Lillyclaw’s voice snapped like that—sharp and cold as the claw itself—it felt as if a dark force had replaced their mother.

  Branchkit bolted first, his heart hammering against his ribs. Maplekit and Ravenkit were right on his heels, their fur standing straight up in terror.

  “No, no! Please!” Lillyclaw cried out, her voice suddenly switching back to the mother they knew. But it was too late. The kits were already halfway across the clearing, their tiny paws blurring against the grass.

  Lillyclaw scrambled out of the nursery, chasing after them with a desperate yowl. “Kits! Come back! It’s not safe!”

  But the fear was too loud. The kits didn't stop until the trees began to change. The lush green of ThunderClan’s forest started to wither, the leaves turning to black ash under their paws. The air grew heavy, smelling of old shadows and frozen pine.

  “Branchkit, stop!” Ravenkit gasped, skidding to a halt. “Where are we? The sun... it’s gone.”

  They looked back, but the camp was gone. They had crossed the border without even knowing it. They were in The Place with No Stars.

  Suddenly, a rush of warm wind—smelling of dried herbs and ancient starlight—swept over them. A flickering, beautiful silhouette appeared in the mist. It was Spottedleaf, her eyes glowing with a terrible urgency.

  She didn't look at the kits. She looked past them, toward the shadows where a pair of amber eyes was slowly opening.

  “You shouldn't have come,” Spottedleaf whispered, her voice echoing like a bell. “The Vow has been triggered. The Tiger is awake.”