The sun was a warm weight on the nursery roof, filtering through the woven gorse in golden spears. Inside, the air smelled of sweet milk and dried moss—the smell of safety.

  Branchkit lunged, his tiny paws thudding into Ravenkit’s side. "Gotcha! I’m the leader of ThunderClan, and you’re a grumpy shadow-cat!"

  Ravenkit huffed, tumbling onto his back. "I’m not a shadow-cat, I’m just trying to nap! Go pester Maplekit."

  Nearby, Maplekit was busy batting at a stray piece of fluff, her orange spots flashing in the light. "I'm busy practicing my 'Stardust Leap'!" she chirped, jumping over a moss-ball.

  Lillyclaw watched them from the center of the den, her tail curling contentedly around her paws. "Careful, kits. Don’t stir up too much dust, or Auntie Magnolone will have us all out for a leaf-cleaning."

  Branchkit didn't hear her. He had spotted a loose piece of moss near the very back of the den—a dark, cramped corner where the shadows seemed a little thicker than they should be.

  "Bet there’s a secret tunnel back here!" Branchkit squeaked. He dove into the shadows, his paws scrabbling at the floor.

  Clink.

  The sound was sharp—cold, like ice hitting stone.

  "Ow!" Branchkit yelped, pulling his paw back.

  "What is it?" Maplekit asked, her creative games forgotten as she trotted over. Even Ravenkit sat up, his ears twitching.

  Branchkit reached back in, his claws hooking onto something heavy. He dragged it into the light. It wasn't a stone, and it wasn't a toy.

  It was a massive, jagged claw, the color of dark honey. It was curved like a crescent moon and twice the size of Branchkit's entire paw. But the strangest part wasn't the size—it was the temperature. Despite the warm sun outside, the claw felt like it had just been pulled from a frozen pond.

  "Whoa," Ravenkit whispered, his skepticism vanishing. "Is that... a hawk talon?"

  "No," Branchkit whispered, his fur beginning to prickle. "A hawk's claw isn't this big. It looks like... a cat's. But what kind of cat has claws like this?"

  "Look," Maplekit pointed. "It’s glowing. Just a little."

  A faint, blue-purple shimmer—like the stardust from their mother’s stories—flickered deep inside the amber.

  "Mom! Look what we found!" Branchkit called out, holding the heavy prize high.

  Lillyclaw turned, a purr beginning in her throat—but it died instantly. Her amber eyes widened until they were huge, trembling circles. She didn't cheer. She didn't even move. She looked like she had seen a ghost.

  "Drop it," Lillyclaw whispered, her voice cracking. "Branchkit... drop it now."

  "But Mom, it’s just a—"

  "DROP IT!" Lillyclaw shrieked, leaping across the den. She swiped the claw away with one frantic motion, burying it deep under her nest. Her breathing was fast and shallow. "That is... that is nothing. A piece of old bone. Bad luck. You are never to speak of it again. Do you hear me?"

  The kits shrank back, huddled together. They had never seen their mother look so terrified.

  "Yes, Mom," Branchkit whispered.

  But as Lillyclaw turned away to hide her shaking paws, the kits shared a look. The mystery of the Stardust Chronicles had officially begun, and it started with a cold, amber secret.