Road of the Lost
Contents (41)
- CAST OF CHARACTERS
- ACT ONE
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- ACT TWO
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- ACT THREE
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- EPILOGUE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
- ALSO BY NAFIZA AZAD
Road of the Lost
Nafiza Azad
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To Katelyn Detweiler.
Thanks for taking a chance on a smart-mouthed brownie-something and her creator.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
THE HUMAN WORLD
Croi/Fiadh
The Hag/Blanaid
TALAMH FAE
Tinder (pixie)
Uaine (dryad)
Enya (dryad)
Irial/the Robber Prince (fae)
Saraid/the Robber Queen (fae)
The Forever King (fae)
Daithi (fae)
Caolan (catkin)
Mabh (fae)
Monca (brownie)
Nuala (fae)
Lugid/the Usurper (fae)
TINE FAE
Aodh/Tine King (fae)
Lorcan (fae)
Ceara/Fire Princess (fae)
“A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.”
—LA FONTAINE
ACT ONE
ONE
A HINT OF RED. AN alluring curve. The anticipation of sweetness.
The apple promises and Croi falls. Eyes wide open and hand grasping. The fruit seller has no idea that one of his apples has gone missing. He is far too busy hawking his wares to notice. Besides, it wouldn’t matter even if he did. He can’t see her nor the apple she’s currently holding. Folding herself under his cart, Croi settles in the shadows to enjoy the fruit as it should be enjoyed. With quick, crisp bites and spurts of juice dribbling down her chin.
The apple is gone too soon, and Croi emerges from under the cart, looking at the other apples, wondering if she should take another one. She decides against it, however, when she looks around the market. There are too many other things to taste here. She takes a step and then skips back, narrowly avoiding a dirty little human. There are many, too many, in the market. It is their forest after all.
Croi is not supposed to be here in this sticky, stinky collection of moving humans. The rich ones try to mask their stench with perfumes. They sacrifice flowers and the bees mourn. The poor ones cannot afford the floral sacrifices, so theirs, at least, is an honest stink.
Across from the fruit seller is an old woman with far too many toffee sticks. Out of the goodness of her heart, Croi eases her burden. The merchant beside the bakery that sells honey buns has colorful scarves on display. Croi takes a few and thanks him, but he can’t hear her, so he doesn’t respond. She doesn’t mind his rudeness.
The market is her favorite place in the human city. Set up by the big gates that lead out, it is always full of sounds, smells, and colors. The smells are not always pleasant, but the colors frequently dance in the sunshine. Humans set up shop in any space they can find. Sometimes they quarrel in loud, ugly voices. Croi learns the language they speak by studying the shapes their mouths make as they throw words at each other.