Maia and the Xifarian Conspiracy (The Lightbound Saga Book 1) Read Free Page B

fuel-powered jet exhausts peeped out from below the wings. In front of the seat was a small raised controller unit that housed the basic maneuvering equipment. One craft was striped red and gold all over, while the other was white with splashes of bright red on the tips of its wings, tail, and nose. Guessing by the way the gliders shimmered, they were obviously well cared for.
    Maia knew this was a rare sight. The Solianese were not allowed to build such craft anymore; these foreign-made machines had likely been smuggled in at an exorbitant price. Such smuggling, although illegal, was not unusual. Goods trickled in, not just crafts like these, but many amenities that were considered luxuries. The Jjord who monitored the trading posts did not care much about such occasional trafficking, since they knew very few could afford to buy such things.
    Five years had passed since Maia had flown a Leveh into the skies above Miorie, but the memory felt even more distant. Her lips curled into a small, playful smile as she reminisced—the sting of the cool wind sweeping over her face, the rise and fall of the ground below her, the joy of making that perfect spin or that flawless touchdown. Even while she willed herself to turn around and walk away, Maia found herself kneeling greedily in front of the paddock, admiring the gliders and longing for them.
    “Don’t you just love them?” a friendly voice came from behind, making Maia jump.
    A boy stood smiling. He was almost as tall as Dada, Maia noted, rather too tall for someone who otherwise looked not much older than herself. His long-sleeved white shirt was well worn, but it still boasted of fineness, albeit in a muted sort of way. A long sword hung from the leather belt circling his slim hips, its gold handle gleaming in the sunlight. A dark red headband stretched across his forehead trying to force some order into the unruly mop of jet-black hair that fell past his ears in curly waves. Noting his dark eyes, his bronzed complexion, and the hint of a nasal twang when he stressed a syllable, Maia presumed a connection to the First Continent.
    “They look awesome,” she said in a hurry.
    “They are awesome,” replied the boy, his eyes shining with pride. “Say, can you fly?”
    “Yes,” Maia replied.
    “It’s so hard to find someone my age who can. I’m Kusha, by the way,” he tilted his head toward the big tent behind him, “and my parents own the Solianese Circus. We’re from the First Continent, but we travel so much that I hardly remember the place where I was born. It gets a little too tiring sometimes, this unending trek around Tansi.”
    He paused for a moment before fixing his inquiring gaze on Maia. “What about you?”
    “I’m Maia, from Appian. It’s a small village of about thirty families further west on the East-West Highroads.”
    “Oh yes. I remember passing it on our way to Shiloh. It was very late at night so we didn’t stop, but it looked . . .” Kusha’s words trailed off as a wistful look glazed his eyes, “well, it felt nice and peaceful, like . . . home.” A veil of sadness swept across his face, and then disappeared as quickly as it had fallen. He nodded in the direction of the gliders and smiled. “Would you like to try them?”
    “Try what? Your Levehs?” Maia’s mouth fell open at the incredulous proposal, and her heart picked up the pace.
    “Sure, you can try Pæks , the white one,” the boy offered generously, brandishing a key that he pulled from his pocket. Brisk hands unfastened the lock that hung at the entrance to the enclosure and pushed the sturdy gate open. “I’ll take Emperor . We don’t always have the Levehs ready to fly; you know how difficult it is to get them fueled. But last night this loony guy named Moritz came by and offered to charge them up.”
    “You mean Moritz of Moritz’s Mechanical Miracles?” Maia blinked in disbelief. “He was here? They banished him from Appian after he blew up one of our wind