Marlo and the Ninth Star — Every evening, Marlo raced the brass stairs of the hilltop observatory, counting winter stars before the clockwork roof snapped shut. Read the full story →
Every evening, Marlo raced the brass stairs of the hilltop observatory, counting winter stars before the clockwork roof snapped shut. She wanted the ninth star for her new sky chart, but eight always answered, sharp and cold through the glass.
Until one night, the dome groaned open by itself and a smell of pine resin rushed in. Because of that, Marlo followed a silver glint across the floor to the festival tree below, where its ribbons seemed to point like arrows. Because of that, she climbed through swirls of holly and poinsettia shadows, hearing the ornaments tick as if they were tiny compasses.
At the top, where everyone admired only the flower, she found a hidden latch under one curled petal. The missing ninth star sprang out, bright enough to set every brass rail humming. Marlo laughed, ink flying from her pen, and finished her chart before the clockwork roof snapped shut.
