The Twelve-Day Stars

Chapter 9: The "Nine" from Ten

The maze’s stone walls loomed close, their surfaces cold and damp enough to leave condensation on Leonardo “Leo” Rossi’s palm as he brushed past them. The bronze ram’s horn in his other hand glowed faintly, casting a warm golden hue over the narrow path ahead—just enough light to see the next turn, but not enough to chase away the darkness that clung to the corners like a living thing. Behind him, the group’s footsteps echoed in a ragged rhythm: Jack’s steady boots, Emily’s hesitant shuffles, Marcus’s heavy thuds, Lily’s soft scuffs, Victoria’s sharp clicks, Samuel’s measured steps, Alan’s quick taps, Evelyn’s quiet pads.

Eight sets of footsteps.

Leo froze mid-step, his hand pausing on the rough stone wall. He’d been counting—instinct, from years of watching his back in Reno’s alleyways, from knowing that one missing person meant trouble. Ten of them had left the villa. Nine had stood at the arena’s entrance. Now… eight.

“Wait,” he said, his voice cutting through the maze’s low mechanical hum. The footsteps behind him stopped. “Count off. Now.”

Marcus frowned, his hand drifting to the small burn on his hoodie from the Guardian’s stardust. “Count off? Why? We’re all here.”

“Just do it,” Leo said, his gaze sweeping over the group. His throat felt tight. He already knew what the count would reveal, but he needed to hear it—to make it real, even if it hurt.

“One,” Marcus said, his tone gruff but compliant.

“Two,” Lily followed, her voice trembling. She glanced around, as if just now realizing someone might be missing.

“Three,” Jack said, his hand tightening on Emily’s shoulder. He’d noticed too—Leo saw the flicker of concern in his eyes.

“Four,” Emily whispered, her sun-charm lanyard swinging as she shifted her weight.

“Five,” Victoria said, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the group. She was already calculating, Leo knew—who was gone, what it meant for their chances.

“Six,” Samuel said, his brow furrowed. He pulled his medical bag closer, as if it might shield him from whatever they were about to discover.

“Seven,” Alan said, his notebook pressed to his chest. His eyes were wide, his pen forgotten in his other hand.

“Eight,” Evelyn said, her voice quiet. She closed her star notebook, her lips pressed into a thin line.

Silence.

No one spoke. No one moved. The maze’s mechanical hum grew louder, as if mocking their shock. Leo’s gaze darted from face to face—Marcus, Lily, Jack, Emily, Victoria, Samuel, Alan, Evelyn. All present. All accounted for.

But one was missing. The quiet man in the gray hoodie— the one who’d stammered about being scared, the one who’d tripped over a stone, the one the Guardian had crushed and left to dissolve into stardust. Leo had almost forgotten him, in the chaos of descending the stairs and entering the maze. Almost.

“The tenth,” Evelyn said, her voice barely audible. “The man in the gray hoodie. He’s… gone.”

Emily let out a soft whimper, burying her face in Jack’s arm. “He was just here. At the stairs. I saw him.”

“He was,” Jack said, his jaw tight. “He was right behind Alan. Then… I don’t know. I didn’t see him vanish.”

Marcus swore, kicking a loose stone into the darkness. “Vanish? How the hell do you vanish in a maze? We were all together!”

“Stardust,” Samuel said, his voice sharp with urgency. He stepped forward, pointing to a faint golden smudge on the stone floor—right where the man had been walking. “It’s not just for killing. It can erase traces. Make someone disappear like they were never there.” He paused, his gaze darkening. “The Guardian didn’t just kill him. He erased him. So we’d forget. So we’d lose focus.”

Victoria’s fingers tightened around her crocodile-skin purse. “Or to remind us. Ten went in. Nine remain. Just like he said.”

Leo’s mind raced. The Guardian had mentioned “nine” back at the villa, after the first man had dissolved. Ten souls, one lesson. Now ten had become nine again—and who was to say it wouldn’t happen a third time? A fourth? Until there was no one left but stardust.

He thought of the brass clock’s note: *“Aries devours the weak.”* Was the man in the gray hoodie “weak”? Because he’d been scared? Because he’d begged for mercy? The Guardian seemed to think so. And if that was the case, none of them were safe.

“We need to keep moving,” Leo said, forcing his voice to stay steady. He held up the bronze horn, its glow brightening as if responding to his resolve. “The maze isn’t waiting. The Guardian isn’t waiting. And if we stand here wallowing in shock—we’ll be next.”

Marcus nodded, his rage returning, but this time it was focused—sharpened by fear. “He’s right. Let’s go. And if that helmeted bastard shows his face again—”

“He won’t,” Evelyn said, flipping open her star notebook. She shone her flashlight on a page of her father’s notes: *“The Aries Maze is designed to thin the herd. The Guardian only interferes when the ‘test’ falters.”* She looked up, her eyes serious. “He’s letting the maze do the work now. We need to be ready for traps. For lasers. For… whatever else is in here.”

Leo took a step forward, leading the group deeper into the maze. The path narrowed, the stone walls pressing closer, and the mechanical hum grew louder—now mixed with the faint whir of lasers, distant but approaching. He could see a flicker of red light ahead, just around the next corner—a laser trap, no doubt.

“Laser ahead,” he warned, holding up a hand to stop the group. “Stay low. Follow my lead.”

Marcus moved to the front, his body tensing. “Let me go first. I’m bigger—if I trigger it, I can block it for the rest of you.”

“No,” Lily said, stepping forward. She pointed to the laser’s flicker, her eyes sharp despite her fear. “It’s moving. See? It sweeps left to right every three seconds. We can slip under it when it’s at the top.”

Leo nodded, impressed. “Good eye. On my count. Three… two… one—go.”

He ducked under the laser, the red light grazing the top of his flannel. Marcus followed, then Lily, Jack and Emily (Jack carrying Emily when her leg gave out), Victoria, Samuel, Alan, and Evelyn. They made it through unscathed, but the close call left them breathless—another reminder that the maze was just as dangerous as the Guardian.

As they continued, Leo noticed more traces of the missing man: a single gray thread from his hoodie, caught on a stone; a faint footprint in the dust, cut off mid-step; a tiny fleck of stardust, glowing on the wall where he’d likely leaned for support. Small things, easy to miss—but they added up. He hadn’t vanished. He’d been *taken*. By the maze? By the Guardian? By something else?

“Look,” Alan said, pointing to a small object on the ground. It was a pen—cheap, plastic, the same kind he used in his notebook. “That’s his. I saw him using it earlier.”

Leo knelt down, picking up the pen. It was cold, but there was a faint golden smudge on the grip—stardust. He held it up to the bronze horn’s light, and the stardust glowed, matching the horn’s hue.

“He was touched by stardust before he vanished,” he said, his voice quiet. “Not the Guardian’s—something else. The maze’s.”

Evelyn stepped closer, examining the pen. “My dad’s notes said the maze is infused with stardust. It can sense fear. It can… take people. When they’re weak. When they’re distracted.”

Emily’s breath hitched. “So it’s alive?”

“Not alive,” Samuel said, “but it’s responsive. To emotion. To stardust. To us.”

Leo stood up, tucking the pen into his pocket. He thought of the man’s fear, his stammer, his desperate plea for mercy. The maze had sensed it. Had fed on it. And now he was gone—erased, just like the first man.

Ten had become nine. Who would be next?

He glanced at the group, their faces pale but determined. Marcus’s jaw was set, his eyes fixed on the path ahead. Lily’s hands were trembling, but she walked tall. Jack held Emily close, his gaze sharp. Victoria’s lips were pressed into a thin line, her mind no doubt racing with plans. Samuel checked his medical bag, ready for whatever came next. Alan scribbled in his notebook, his pen moving fast. Evelyn’s flashlight scanned the path, looking for traps.

They were scared. They were tired. They were one short. But they were still together.

“Let’s keep going,” Leo said, leading the way around another corner. The mechanical hum grew louder, and he could see the faint glow of the maze’s center ahead—where the Stardust Shards waited, no doubt.

But as they walked, Leo couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched. Not by the Guardian—by something else. By the maze itself. By the stardust that clung to the walls, to their clothes, to the pen in his pocket.

Ten had become nine.

And the maze was hungry for more.