Title: The Lightbound Saga Trilogy
Author: S.G. Basu
Publisher: Dreamwater Press
Genre: Middle Grade/Young Adult

Series Blurb:

13-year-old Maia is a land-dwelling Solianese living on the planet of Tansi. She has been raised by her doting grandfather. Her mother, Sophie, supposedly deceased, is accused to be a traitor who fought for the Xifarians who have subjugated Tansi. Loathing her family’s history, Maia has put herself into self-exile, vowing to steer clear of the temptations that led her mother astray. But when she is drafted into a peace summit by the Xifarians, she must walk into Xif, the planet she has always wanted to avoid. Here she meets loyal teammates Kusha, Dani, Nafi, and Ren, as well as Miir, their Xifarian team mentor who is as accomplished as he is temperamental. As Maia and her teammates thwart a plot to harm the underwater settlements on Tansi, she also discovers that her mother, Sophie, was not what she seemed. Sophie sacrificed herself to save Tansi before the Xifarians could destroy the Tansian system.

Maia visits the Jjord nation in their underwater colonies on Tansi. More of Sophie’s secrets come to light while she is in the colonies as well as more of the Xifarians’ plots to rebuild the dark heart of Xif. As Maia’s link with Sophie becomes apparent, Maia soon finds herself in the crosshairs of the Xifarians who kill her family and send her running for shelter across the dead lands of the Solianese. Chased by the Xifarians, Maia barely manages to stay alive with the help of her teammates.

While on the run across Tansi, Maia meets a mysterious man who unlocks a power within Maia. When her mighty Xifarian foes corner her, Maia unleashes the power on them, overpowering everyone, including her former mentor, Miir.

Maia struggles with her newfound power. The team is on the verge of fracturing when Maia reveals she might have killed Miir. Meanwhile, the R’armimon, an ancient and powerful enemy of the Xifarians, are on the way to the Tansian system, seeking vengeance from the Xifarians. On finding this, the Xifarians grow desperate to resurrect the dark heart that would enable them to leave the Tansian system. Maia narrowly escapes the Xifarians’ trap with a mysterious ally but her new alliance takes a toll on her friendships.

Maia is alone and hopeless but she forges on to regain the trust of her teammates and tries to convince the Tansian leaders of the impending threat of the R’armimon fleet. With help from her allies, Maia continues to uncover more of Sophie’s past. Together with her friends, Maia rushes to find the artifacts needed to thwart the R’armimon as the massive Execution Fleet of the R’armimon appears next to Tansi.

Purchase Information for Series

Amazon: https://amzn.to/3Tb71xt

Chapter One

Among the desert plains that covered the Second Continent of Tansi in its lifeless spread, Appian shone like a precisely cut emerald. Beautiful enough to be on a picture postcard, the settlement nestled cozily at the flat bottom of a valley surrounded by rolling hills, with a few cottages and farms peppered here and there on the lush slopes. Little brick houses and their brightly painted rooftops filled the center of the village; its paved roads crisscrossed the valley in flawless symmetry; its trees, dark and ancient, enveloped the dwellings in their pampering shade; its pastures, trimmed and tidy, wove a soft-hued tapestry across the dale.

The morning had been warm and blissful. As the day aged, the sky turned a dull and stifling gray, and the air grew thick. A patch of sunlight escaped through a crack in the clouds and fell squarely on Hen’s Beak, the tallest hillock overlooking the village.

Thirteen-year-old Maia sat hunched on a rocky platform jutting out of the sharp inclines forming the western façade of Hen’s Beak. Her dark brown hair was pulled away from her face into a pair of pigtails that fell a little past her shoulders. A bunch of dull freckles dotted the bridge of her nose with a few splattered on her cheeks. Locks of stray hair lying across her tanned forehead partially hid a frown that bunched her hazel-green eyes.

Today was her thirteenth birthday, a significant day for any child on Tansi, a day of feasts and celebration. But Maia was far from happy. She had tried to impress Dada yet again, and yet again she had failed. Now as she stared listlessly at the horizon, spent and utterly hopeless, tears welled up in her eyes. It was as if she was back in the middle of winter, trapped, housebound; when the charm of the season’s first snow had long dulled, the blooms of spring were only a distant dream, and all that seemed to linger forever was the unending brownness.

Maia hugged her knees tightly and rocked herself as she stared at the weary mass of trees skirting the base of the hill. Hope was something one rarely came across around here, and Maia wondered if there was a reason left to keep trying to escape this misery.

We are a doomed lot, this planet, its people.

Maia’s hands reached for the ends of her pigtails, twirling them in a never-ending nervous rhythm. And she was more ill-fated than most because she did not even have a parent.

Maia preferred not to think about her mother too often, fearing the rage that always followed. She would not even call her “mother,” but rather by her name—Sophie. She figured the woman who could abandon her infant did not deserve a loving name. At one time, Maia believed in the other possibility, the one Dada liked to talk about, that Sophie did not choose to leave her newborn child but tragically perished in the battle of Second Surrender. But the doubts barged in, and not without reason. The way Sophie disappeared felt odd, staged almost. She did not leave behind as much as a memento to remember her by, no clue about Maia’s heritage, nothing. It was as if Maia’s life with Sophie had never existed, and as if Sophie had never existed either. Maia learned to accept the implication that always left her feeling hollow inside—Sophie had deserted her. And given what Uncle Alasdair had said, Maia knew Sophie was capable of such an act. Sophie had done other things, shameful things that Maia struggled to keep hidden from the world.

Sophie was, in one word, inexcusable.

On the other hand, Maia fondly wondered about her father sometimes, and in the deepest corner of her heart, she nurtured a hope that someday she would find him and maybe, just maybe, he would love her back with all his heart.

As a deep sigh coursed its way out of her, Maia realized her mistake. She had let the hurt in, once again. A painful lump throbbed in her chest and inched up her throat like thick, vicious quicksand, drowning her from inside. She gulped a few times, hoping to make it go away, but the pain persisted. Her eyes burned with unshed tears, and her insides crumpled.

Maia’s fists curled. She couldn’t cry. She wasn’t going to let her tears show. No!

A sound—the muffled clatter of approaching hooves—came just in time to pull Maia out of her gloom. She turned, smiling at the heavyset, gray-haired man leading Bander and Jolt, a pair of bay horses.

“Herc!”

Herecule, or Herc, as she liked to call him, was guard, farmhand, groundskeeper, and Maia’s martial arts teacher, all rolled into one. Above everything—in a world where almost everyone her age had already left for ThulaSu and its lesser-known alternates, when every other adult was overly cautious of her movements—Herc remained her only friend and confidant.

“Hullo, miss.” Herc smiled as he set the horses to graze and sat down next to Maia. “Emmy’s upset and very worried,” he said, chuckling indulgently as Maia grimaced. “Maybe you oughta run back home now.”

Maia knew Herc was teasing, but she was not amused. Her nose crinkled. Emmy, the housekeeper, always fussed over her. From the moment the tiny motherless Maia had been placed in the grieving housekeeper’s hands, Emmy had constantly worried about her ward’s well-being. She wanted to wrap Maia in a cocoon of protection, failing to understand that Maia needed her freedom. Herc, on the other hand, was different; he let Maia live a close-to-regular life. But it was a constant tug-of-war between Herc and Emmy, one that seemed to have no end.

Maia cradled her forehead in her palms and leaned forward to rest her aching head on her knees. “I’m never going to leave home, Herc, unless they find me and drag me to Ti.”

“Don’ you worry, miss, you’ll get to ThulaSu.”

Herc’s words were meant to comfort, but they did nothing to cheer the young girl. She had just turned thirteen, old enough to be drafted for the Xifarian labor camps on Ti, from which no one ever returned. Only the Clause of Scholia—the ancient honor system across the galactic settlements that included Tansi—granted immunity to children enrolled in educational institutions. Just like any other land-child of Tansi, Maia had hoped to take her Undertaking vows, enrollment at a center of higher learning, before she turned thirteen. Yet, here she was—thirteen and still without a pledge, unprotected.

Maia had done her part to avoid this situation. She had dreamed of going to ThulaSu, the brightest beacon of hope among the crumbling Solianese universities. She had trained hard, excelling in swordplay since she was barely eight. Her dedication was rewarded when two summers ago, the traveling scouts from ThulaSu were offered to have her pledged. But then, her grandfather had to deny her permission. The following year was no different. And now that the annual caravan to ThulaSu was due to leave Shiloh in two weeks, the thought of being left behind a third time made Maia want to scream.

“I don’t know, Herc. Dada still can’t make up his mind. Why can’t he just let me go?”

“Your grampa’s ’fraid of losin’ you, miss,” Herc replied, drawing random patterns on the dust with a stalk of grass. “You’re the only fam’ly he has left.”

Maia scoffed. “Does he realize I’m thirteen now? And unless I take my Undertaking vows right away, the Clause can’t protect me. What if Xifarians find me, huh? Doesn’t he know that he’ll lose me forever then? And what’s with the show every day? Why train me if he’s not planning on letting me go?”

As always, Dada had watched today’s training session with Herc, his keen eyes studying her moves, strikes, and parries. Although Maia did not win the mock-up, she was satisfied, having taken her formidable trainer by surprise quite a few times during the fight. It was no mean feat that she had been close to besting Herc, whose stout build was nothing but a deceptive cover for his extraordinary agility. But then, this was nothing new. She had been repeatedly surprising Herc over the last few years. Only her grandfather never seemed content.

Maia clenched her fists, struggling to keep from screaming. No one could deny her ThulaSu. She would do whatever it took to get a place in this year’s caravan.

“Tell me about it one more time,” she pleaded.

Maia loved Herc’s stories of ThulaSu. She had heard them a hundred times over, but they never grew old; they simply strengthened her will to see the land with her own eyes someday. Once again she was mesmerized by the legends of misty mountains and forgotten lands, of mystical monks who could foresee the future, of swordplay so fast and intricate that only those with the mythical third eye could master it in its entirety.

“Time to go, m’lady,” Herc said, breaking Maia’s reverie.

It was close to sundown, and Maia halfheartedly trudged home behind Herc and his horses, along the red brick road that wound past the hilltop and climbed down toward the valley floor. A gigantic oak adorned the bulging middle of Hen’s Beak, and next to it sat the pudgy, green-roofed farmhouse that Maia called home. She was just a few steps away from the front porch when a tantalizing aroma of roasted seafowl drifted out through the open doors and held her in its intoxicating grip.

Maia’s pace quickened as she walked up the porch steps, through the dimly lit sitting area to the small dining room in the back. Her stomach let out a low, pitiful growl when she gazed at the table; the sight certainly melted away all of Maia’s grievances. A handsome basket cradled freshly made bread rolls, and next to it a tray held the grand specimen of Emmy’s masterful culinary skills: a seafowl cooked to a perfect golden red. Her grandfather sat next to the dinner table, hunched over a thickly bound book. He looked up and smiled as Maia stepped into the room.

“You’re back, I see,” he said in a sing-song voice. “You didn’t wait to know my answer about ThulaSu?”

Dada was a tall man with a short gray beard and wispy white hair, soft brown eyes, and a kind face. Maia knew that hidden behind his rather calm and spiritual demeanor was a fortitude that had withstood the brunt of terrible tragedies and survived the aftermath of the Scarcity. His body bore the scars of frightful times of long ago, as did his mind, yet his eyes never failed to twinkle and shine. Maia had inherited his characteristic kindness as well as his courage, and as gentle as she could be, she was neither timid nor docile.

“No, Dada,” Maia replied. Still not looking at her grandfather, she toyed impatiently with a plump teapot that sat on the painted sideboard. “I stopped hoping,” she muttered under her breath, trying her best to mask the annoyance fomenting inside.

Dada leaned back, his eyes crinkling with amusement.

“Oh, really? Well, I was thinking you could hop on the caravan this year if you wanted.”

Maia simply stared as her heart skipped a few beats. Then she took a few tentative steps forward to face her grandfather.

“So . . . I’m allowed to leave for ThulaSu?”

“Yes.”

Maia flung herself on him, her trembling arms wrapping around his neck.

“All right, all right, take it easy,” Dada said, panting between chuckles.

“Managed to convince him then?” Emmy walked in with a steaming pie, and Herc peeped through the doorway with a grin so large that it barely fit on his face.

“Yes . . . finally!” Maia yelled.

Herc promptly broke into loud, hearty laughter while Maia twirled and skipped spiritedly around the table. Emmy set the plate down and suppressed a sigh of worry. Patting Maia on the back, she said in a mock gruff tone, “Hmmm . . . that’ll do. Remember your trip to Shiloh tomorrow. Better eat and rest up.”

Oh, yes. Shiloh!

Until this day, the monthly visit to the neighboring town of Shiloh was the biggest event in Maia’s mundane life. But in her excitement of Dada’s announcement, she had forgotten all about it.

“I will, Emmy, I will,” Maia replied. “Be right back,” she added.

With a final whoop of joy, Maia sprinted up the stairs to her room. She closed the door behind her, twirled giddily on her toes a couple of times, then crashed onto her bed. Her eyes swept across the walls of what had been her private sanctuary for the last five years, the reassuring familiarity brought a smile to her face. The last traces of daylight filtered through the wide-open windows but failed to reach the far corner of the room. There, a row of shelves stood lined with books thin and fat, short and tall; and the small writing table next to it teetered with scrolls, journals, and knickknacks. And Bellator, glowing as usual in the feeble light. Maia lay there for a while, looking at everything, and nothing, savoring the joy of a long-awaited dream coming true.

About The Author

S.G. Basu is an aspiring potentate of a galaxy or two. She plots and plans with wondrous machines, cybernetic robots, time travelers and telekinetic adventurers, some of whom escape into the pages of her books. Although she’s an engineer by training, writing has been her passion since childhood. Her other loves include extra-hot lattes, fast cars and binge watching sci-fi movies.

Find out more about the futuristic worlds she creates at sgbasu.com. She can also be reached at sg@sgbasu.com.

Books by S.G. Basu:

The Lightbound Saga series (YA Dystopian Science Fiction)

Maia and the Xifarian Conspiracy

Maia and the Secrets of Zagran

Maia and Regency Protocol

The Lightbound Saga 3 Book Bundle

The Firefly League-A Lightbound Saga novella

Elementals-The Serial Thriller (Paranormal Science Fiction)

Population Morpheus (Near Apocalyptic Science Fiction)

Jumpers (Paranormal Thriller)

You can visit the author’s website at www.sgbasu.com or connect with her on Twitter, Facebook and Goodreads.