Every clue and foreshadowing for THAT Kos twist
If you've read Three Parts Dead, you know there's a pretty major twist near the end - and that there are clues or foreshadowing throughout the whole book.
We've compiled every clue and piece of foreshadowing of that twist.
HERE BE SPOILERS. MAJOR, MAJOR SPOILERS. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
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(We mean it. Spoilers for the entirety of Three Parts Dead, and some of the later books too.)
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(You have been warned)
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The entire concept of Three Parts Dead is that Kos Everburning isn't burning any more. He is deceased. An ex-God. Our main characters are brought to Alt Coulumb to fight a court case to resurrect him as close to his original self as possible, and necromantic legal shenanigans ensue.
It turns out, however, that Kos isn't actually dead.
Close to dead, sure. But not actually dead.
“A faint remnant of his logical mind remembered that for some reason, though he had smoked constantly since his Lord’s death, in three days he had not once used a lighter or a match. Always he passed flame from one cigarette to the next.
He surrendered to God. Every breath of smoke lingering in his lungs, every trace of fire that calmed him in his hours of need, he gave them forth freely.
He was the size of a city, the size of the world, the size of the universe, smaller than the smallest atom. He was ash, and he burned eternal in a million suns.
Brilliant and new as a phoenix, Kos the Everburning rose from the ember at the tip of Abelard’s cigarette.”
Kos is resurrected by the Craftswoman Elayne Kevarian, who later confirms to Tara that she figured out that Kos was hiding in Abelard’s cigarette the moment she met him:
“When did you first know he was hiding in Abelard’s cigarette?”
“When I met the boy in Gustave’s office. I’ve seen hidden gods before, and recognised the signs. I caught a vanishing glimpse before Kos realised he was being observed and hid himself deeper than I could follow. He was almost dead in truth, comatose by human comparison. I reasoned that he must have mistrusted his clergy if he hid from them, so I kept Abelard away from other priests, in your company or mine.”
And how did she confirm that theory?
“You said he hid almost as soon as you saw him. It must have happened so fast. How did you know you weren’t mistaken?”
“Simple.” She leaned back against her desk. “I killed Abelard.”
“What?”
“I pulled his life away slowly. As I drew it from him, more poured in from another source: a fire beyond this world. I half-expected him to realise the truth then, but he was oblivious to Kos’s presence, even as god-ash accumulated in his lungs. He began to see like a god or a Craftsman as he investigated the Sanctum’s boiler room; he used the vision to good effect, but failed to realise its source. Didn’t think anything of it when his so-called cigarette flame nearly killed that shadow-monster, either. Engineers: they spend so much time solving physical problems and obeying physical rules, they forget that nonphysical phenomena obey rules every bit as strict.”
Tara imagined Ms Kevarian casually snuffing out Abelard’s life to test a theory. “You killed him when you took him to visit the ambassadors. Stand in their offices and look like a good little cleric, you said.”
“I needed an opportunity to make the experiment, and to demonstrate to Denovo’s clients that Kos still lived.”
One of the fun parts of rereading Three Parts Dead is spotting the clues and foreshadowing of this twist. And in taking notes for this article, I ended up with 5,000 words of quotes from the book that are either definite clues and foreshadowing, or could be read as such.
And now I’m going to lay them out for you now.
Cigarette references
Abelard is, obviously, smoking like a chimney throughout the book. Even before knowing the twist, you can’t help but notice the references to him holding a cigarette, breathing in smoke, lighting a new cigarette from the stub of an old one.
In the first few chapters of the book, when we first see Abelard post-Kos’s death, the cigarette is emphasised constantly:
“Abelard gestured weakly with his cigarette. The ember at its tip danced a trace in the air. (Chapter 2, Page 31)
While the Cardinal’s attention was on the paper, Abelard cupped mouth and cigarette with one hand, and sucked in tobacco-stained air. The cigarette flame flared in the confessional darkness, and his quivering muscles stilled. (Chapter 2, Page 32)
A young man in brown and orange robes sat at the base of the steps leading into the Sanctum. He was tonsured, smoking a cigarette, and represented the only non-carriage-related life in the vicinity. (Chapter 4, Page 58)
He was seated, bent forward over his knees. A cigarette dangled from his mouth. Voluminous robes hung from his thin body, and his upturned eyes were set deep in a pale face. (Chapter 4, Page 59)
The young priest stood on the threshold peering into the room as if afraid something within might leap out to dismember him. A fresh cigarette drooped from his lips, and he appeared, if possible, more dishevelled than a half hour before. (Chapter 5, Page 78)”
You get the picture.
However, these could be explained away – as could many others throughout the book – as merely setting the scene, explaining character, demonstrating Abelard’s inner turmoil and distress via his smoking. His penchant for cigarettes also helps in the worldbuilding of religion in this world, Kos’ power as a god, and the workings of his religion. Gladstone could have put these references in, particularly in the first few chapters, purely to demonstrate the Church of Kos’s teachings.
“It’s normal,” the Cardinal’s doctor had told him when he reported his tremors the previous evening. “More intense than I expected, but normal. As an initiate of the Disciple of the Eternal Flame, you smoke between three and five packs of cigarettes a day. God’s grace has protected you from the ill effects of tobacco addiction, but under the current circumstances, His beneficence has been withdrawn.”
This is reinforced when Abelard first meets Tara:
“You might try quitting.” She nodded at his cigarette.
He let his head loll back to the sky, and his eyes drifted closed, as if he was waiting for rain. None fell, and he opened his eyes again. “I started when I joined the priesthood. A sign of my devotion. I won’t stop now.”
Yet, even this early on there are clues that Abelard’s cigarette might be a bit more than it seems.
As the doctor says in the quote above, Abelard’s tremors and withdrawal are “more intense than [he] expected”. At the end of the prologue, right when Kos has ‘died’, we read that:
“One of the senior Crimson Priests approached poor Abelard, the butt of whose cigarette still smouldered between his lips.
Abelard saw then what he should have noticed first.
The fire. The Everburning flame, on the altar of the Defiant, caged with its throne.
It was gone.”
On first read, this is simply part of the scene-setting prose, but upon examination the direct juxtaposition of Abelard’s cigarette still smouldering while the Everburning flame was gone from its altar holds deeper meaning.
This direct connection between Abelard’s cigarette – note that we rarely, if ever, see other priests smoking – and Kos is reinforced in later chapters:
“I’m sorry, Father, I’m so sorry, but the experience, the moment, Lord Kos…” He gestured vaguely at the cigarette. (Chapter 2, Page 32)
“I saw His body,” Abelard said at last. “Laid out against the dark. Tara showed me. But…”
“What?”
“There was something missing.” He flicked ash into a potted plant. (Chapter 9, Page 138)
“It’s been a long week.” He exhaled smoke and breathed in more smoke. This cigarette was nearly burnt down to the filter. He searched within his robe for his pack. “Kos, and, well.” (Chapter 11, Page 165)
In the past, when sleep would not come, and he lay awake in bed unwilling to rise and check the clock because he knew dawn was still hours off, Abelard had comforted himself in prayer, and the contemplation of God. Fire touched his soul, and would not desert him.
For the last three days, he had been alone, with only his cigarette flame for a companion. (Chapter 12, Page 187)
Such thoughts verged on blasphemy, but climbing this scaffolding, smouldering cigarette jutting from the corner of his mouth, with no one near and with his God lying dead in starlight beyond the realm of man, Abelard himself to wonder. (Chapter 14, Page 209)”
Abelard’s cigarette behaves oddly:
“He could barely catch a half hour’s sleep at a time before he woke, trembling and desperate for a drag from the cigarette that lay, ember somehow still glowing, by his bedside. (Chapter 2, Page 30)
As he lifted the robe over his head, he passed her his cigarette. It was lighter than she expected, and warm to the touch. She had smoked before, but something about the way he handled his cigarettes made them look heavier than normal. (Chapter 7, Page 107)
Abelard saw the Guardians, their presence staining the air, and he saw Cat rebuke them like an empress, head back, chin up, the scars at her throat wild and red and raw. Tara collapsed over Raz Pelham’s body, unconscious. His cigarette smoke tasted of sour, copper panic. (Chapter 8, Page 128)
As the mandibles struck, Abelard plucked the cigarette from his mouth, held it as if the ember were a blade, and stabbed blindly into the shadow. A roar shook the boiler room. Abelard sprawled back, legs his own again, cigarette still clenched in his fingers. The creature convulsed, outlined in orange flame that chewed its slick sharp edges to crumpled ash. The fire died as it consumed, and Abelard doubted it would kill the shadow, but he didn’t care. (Chapter 15, Page 231)
Abelard took cover beneath his robe when the skylight caved in. […] His cigarette, at least, remained undamaged, and with hasty hand-work he preserved it as he rolled over broken glass to extinguish the smouldering rest of him. (Chapter 19, Page 298)”
And this is what I particularly love. All of these instances could be simple exposition, description of Abelard’s mood – which is how I read them on first read. To be fair, I’m not really one for theorising or trying to guess twists…my brain works much more on a character track than the intricacies of plotting. But on reread, it is a delight to see these descriptions and understand their context.
Elayne figuring it out
First of all, a disclaimer: Elayne Kevarian is my favourite character in the Craft Sequence. I enjoyed her in Three Parts Dead, and fully fell for her in Last First Snow. So, I’m biased in her favour.
What I adore about the writing of Elayne in this book is that it doesn’t feel disingenuous that we read her POV throughout the book – after she’s figured out the Kos twist – yet she never ‘mentions’ it. Elayne is written as someone who holds her cards close to her chest, who compartmentalises almost to a fault, so it is perfectly natural that she doesn’t ruminate on Kos hiding in the cigarette when we read her POV.
Yet, on reread it is incredibly clear that she knows SOMETHING beyond the reader.
Firstly, the moment that she later references – noticing Kos in Abelard’s cigarette.
“Gratitude beamed from Abelard’s face as he produced a new cigarette and lit it from the embers of the old. Ms Kevarian’s gaze flicked from Abelard, to the cigarette, and back. She watched and weighed him for a silent moment before continuing the introductions.”
This is a tiny moment, easily overlooked – but in the context of the reveal, it speaks volumes. This is reinforced by her immediately getting Abelard to leave Cardinal Gustave’s company and join her or Tara.
“Ms Abernathy and I require a staff, until the rest of our firm’s complement arrives.”
“Whatever you need,” Gustave replied.
“Security is of the essence. We must keep the number of people involved to a minimum. Perhaps you could loan us Abelard?”
Not only do we never get a further hint that they are awaiting anyone else from the firm, but she does this mere pages after chastising Abelard for not checking Tara’s credentials – implying that she doesn’t trust him and thinks he acts inappropriately. She would certainly not let Tara get away with such an oversight.
“Technical Cardinal Gustave, Lady Kevarian, this is Tara Abernathy.” He closed his eyes, opened them again, shifted is feet. “I, uh, assume. She never showed me any identification.”
Ms Kevarian’s expression darkened. […] “If we are to succeed in this case, we must control the flow of information. The future of your faith depends on your ability to keep secrets.”
Tara herself hopes he’ll refuse to join, thinks that he’ll be deeply unhelpful, so it is clear that this would neither be standard practice nor ordinarily considered necessary. Yet, Elayne has changed her tune after ‘weighing’ Abelard once he passed an ember containing Kos between cigarettes. As we later come to learn is her talent, Elayne neatly manoeuvres the pieces on the chess board to her own ends, keeping Abelard – and the almost-comatose Kos – in the company of Craftswomen.
Another reference, almost 100 pages later, shows us in retrospect that Elayne is paying close attention not only to Kos in Abelard’s cigarette, but Cardinal Gustave’s reactions too.
“Cardinal Gustave watched them go. His eyes followed the dancing ember tip of Abelard’s cigarette, before returning to the tableaux within the circle.
Ms Kevarian saw it all.”
Cardinal Gustave, one of the most senior priests of the Church of Kos, is subconsciously drawn to the something different in Abelard’s cigarette – and Elayne is watching closely.
It is at this point that she begins to put her plan into action: demonstrating to Denovo’s clients that Kos is still alive, by killing Abelard in front of them and showing how Kos gave him back life.
“Ms Kevarian turned to him. “You will accompany me this afternoon to visit the local representatives of several Deathless Kings. They have a stake in Kos’s resurrection, and we need to be on good terms with them if your Church is to survive unchanged.”
“How can I help?”
“For the most part, by standing in their offices looking like a good young cleric.”
…
“Though our task may sound frivolous, trust me, it is every bit as important as your research.”
Abelard lit a fresh cigarette with the tip of the previous one. “Do I get a choice?”
“No,” Ms Kevarian said before Tara could respond.
…
“Will the Deathless Kings mind if I smoke?” Abelard asked.
“Not in this instance.”
Ms Kevarian has, to the reader, once again abruptly changed plans by taking Abelard with her rather than sending him with Tara, saying that bringing him along to her meetings is “every bit as important” as Tara finding evidence of foul play. To the first-time reader Elayne seems somewhat flighty, changing her mind for no obvious reason, and potentially arrogant, demanding that Abelard stop more obviously useful tasks to “stand in their offices looking like a good young cleric.” Her last sentence – that the Deathless Kings won’t mind Abelard smoking “in this instance” is the only clue that her seemingly frivolous task requires Abelard as a key component, not simply as a good young cleric.
We don’t know exactly when Elayne began to “pull his life away slowly.” Could it have been from the very beginning, before she sent him off with Tara? He does seem to immediately become more healthy when he is in Tara’s company. Perhaps it is later, at the Court of Craft. Either way, he is already close to death when she brings him in front of the Deathless Kings.
It’s not clear whether she kills him in front of James, the first Deathless King, or prior to meeting him. I could see an argument for either way. The first option is when Elayne shows Abelard exactly what being a Craftsperson, on her way to becoming a Deathless King, means. She shows him a fearsome vision of herself, but that isn’t relevant to our discussion here. Before showing this vision, she asks him to take her hand:
“Let me show you something. Take my hand.”
She held it out, palm up. He touched her and felt a spark—but it wasn’t a spark, not a normal spark of electric charge, anyway—leap from her skin to his, or was it the other way around? His world faded, breath stilled in his lungs, and he thought he heard his heartbeat skip.”
The spark between them could simply be Elayne’s Craft working to show him the vision of herself, but from what we know of Craft, touch doesn’t seem to be a required component. Could the spark merely be Elayne somehow checking that Kos is there, a spark of magic between a Craftswoman and a god? Could his breath stilling and heartbeat skipping merely be Abelard’s bodily reaction to witnessing Craft? An instinctive reaction?
It could be all those things. It could also be the moment that Elayne kills Abelard.
A few pages later, when Abelard prays, he says that “No inner warmth came, no communion. Smoke lingered in his lungs longer than usual.” (Chapter 12, Page 187). Is this god-ash accumulating in his lungs, Kos filling the space where Elayne is pulling Abelard’s life away, or is it Kos reviving Abelard after Elayne kills him?
Either, way, he is definitely dead by the end of the chapter – 53% of the way through the novel, according to my Kindle. The full demonstration before Deathless Kings, and the other option for Abelard’s actual death, is described as such:
“I would not, of course, ask you to accept my word with no evidence.”
“Certainly not.”
Her voice sank to a whisper. Abelard leaned against the door as if to press his ear through it. Then the latch gave way, and the door swung in onto nothingness.
Abelard tumbled into a shadowy pit, like night without stars, the way the universe had looked before man opened his eyes, before gods breathed life into the void. This darkness was deeper even than the darkness into which Ms Kevarian had thrust him, had flashed with red. Falling, he felt an unexpected warmth at his back.
He gulped reflexively for air but found none to breathe, and would have perished had the dark not broken and reformed around him. Or had his overtaxed mind simply recast the scene into something it could comprehend?
He flailed to find his balance on the carpet. Cool, soothing air rushed back into starved lungs, and sunlight startled his eyes.
He stood in an office, more richly furnished than Cardinal Gustave’s. Chairs of soft leather with silver studs, oak bookshelves.”
I’m inclined to say this is his actual death, but when I was taking notes for this article I started doubting myself. I read this as Elayne telling James her theory, then finally snuffing out Abelard’s life as she opens the door.
He falls into a darkness deeper than the one in the previous quote, and “falling, he felt an unexpected warmth at his back” – clearly Kos, who is, of course, a god of fire.
He “would have perished had the dark not broken and reformed around him” – is this Kos bringing Abelard back to life, forming the final piece of Elayne’s demonstration to James?
If the other theory, of Elayne killing Abelard with a spark of Craft, holds true, this still works. Kos is weak and surely reviving Abelard takes a huge amount of power from a practically comatose god. Kos may have brought Abelard back to life in the previous scene, but been gradually building up his strength throughout the next few scenes.
Either way, by the end of Chapter 12, Abelard has been killed and revived, proving to Elayne and the Deathless Kings that reports of Kos Everburning’s death have been greatly exaggerated.
Kos empowering Abelard
From this point on, Kos is essentially powering Abelard. We start to see references to Abelard developing new powers to see Craft, feeling warmth or seeing red at the edge of his vision, as Kos takes a more active role rather than merely hiding in the cigarette ember. When Abelard goes to investigate issues in the boiler room – recall that Kos’s power is channelled through real, tangible heat and fire, and his priests are also engineers – he wishes/prays for power that Kos almost immediately provides. Not only that but he hears a voice urging him on – potentially his inner instinct, but on hindsight clearly Kos Himself.
“He wished he had Tara’s sensitivity to the Craft, for the central coolant tank was not a product of mortal engineering.
…
He sat down on the stone, and closed his lantern.
Darkness rushed in, blacker than any night he had ever known, child of cities that he was. The tip of his cigarette burned against cold shadows.
He closed his eyes and traced in his memory the paths of the four hundred seventy-two threadlike coolant lines that wound over cold stone and through empty air to the central tank. They glowed in his mind’s eye, precise and exact.
He inhaled, and his breath froze in his chest.
The glowed not only in his mind’s eye, but in the black beyond his eyelids.
He opened his eyes, and saw nothing. Closed them, and the coolant pipes glimmered silver and cold in empty space. The silver lines seemed painted on the backs of his eyelids, or rather his eyelids seemed to have become filters that only this light could penetrate.
To his closed eyes, the coolant tank was a tangle of clockwork outlined in silver. Its innards spun and turned and wound, and in places silver light tangled about invisible, physical gears, pistons, camshafts. Power flowed down the chains that suspended the tank in midair, and proceeded through hidden paths across town to the Temple of Justice.
He inhaled smoke and exhaled it. The light gleamed more brightly. He opened his eyes, and the silver visions vanished.
“What is this?” he asked the empty space and the machines.
They didn’t answer, but something within him whispered, look further.”
When I first read the book, not being one for uncovering twists or theorising, I thought Abelard was discovering he did indeed have aptitude for the Craft, which has somehow gone undiscovered through his years of priestly training. That is…not the case. Abelard is being explicitly guided by his god, and being offered powers that suit his needs at this moment.
The entire boiler room escapade demonstrates Kos empowering Abelard. As he crosses Craft circles, which are surely warded against interference, Kos’ power protects him:
“Abelard approached the altar. His skin tingled as he stepped over the first circle, careful not to touch the glowing lines. With another stride he crossed the second. A breath of hot air kissed his face and ruffled his robes. One left.
This, too, he crossed, but as his second foot touched down the world vanished. He was familiar with the sensation by now, and welcomed the nothingness and warmth, and the red edges to his vision as if a great light burned behind him. For the first time, he had the presence of mind to turn around and see what waited there.
Fire filled the void.
When he opened his eyes, he stood within the innermost circle.”
Later in the scene Abelard prays, despite believing Kos is not there to hear him, and what he prays for appears to come true.
(There will be an article about the nature of prayer in the Craft Sequence at some point, but for now just accept that he basically asks Kos for something and Kos immediately answers.)
“There had been no light in the hidden room save the glow of what he felt certain Tara would have called Craft. This thing grew in and fed on shadow. Real light might blind or injure it. Abelard had no reason to suspect his plan would work, but needed to try something.
…
He tried to pray, without bothering to think who might answer.
…
He flicked open the lantern’s lid, and hoped.
A beam of fiery light lanced through the cloying darkness. Narrow at the lantern’s aperture, twenty feet out the beam was broad as the tunnel’s mouth.
The shadow creature had grown. It nearly filled the eight-foot-tall passage, and longer, thinner thorn-limbs trailed beyond. Smoke rose from its body where the light touched.
…
Don’t be smart, Abelard whispered. Be fierce, be cruel, vindictive, but, please, Kos, don’t let it be smart.
Scuttling on many sharp limbs the creature launched itself down the hall toward the lantern. Shadow-flesh shrivelled as it moved. Light tore steaming gaps in its body.
Abelard breathed a silent prayer of thanks and descended the ladder as if in free fall.”
Finally, the scene ends with Abelard figuring out how to weaken the shadow creature that is chasing him – the solution neatly coming to him when he thinks all is lost, and inhales through his cigarette. The cigarette that is, should you need the reminder, hosting Kos.
“He was about to die.
In such moments, time expands. To Abelard’s surprise he found the sensation almost pleasant. He was about to be eaten by a giant shadow beast, through no particular fault of his own, and there was nothing he could do.
As the night-mandibles reared to descend, he raised his cigarette to his mouth and inhaled.
Its tip flared.
Flared.
Light hurt this thing, enough at least to anger it. What would fire do?
As the mandibles struck, Abelard plucked the cigarette from his mouth, held it as if the ember were a blade, and stabbed blindly into the shadow.
A roar shook the boiler room. Abelard sprawled back, legs his own again, cigarette still clenched in his fingers. The creature convulsed, outlined in orange flame that chewed its slick sharp edges to crumpled ash. The fire died as it consumed, and Abelard doubted it would kill the shadow, but he didn’t care.”
From this point on, Abelard seems weakened, his tremors from the start of the book returning. I take this a sign that Kos has expended more power than he is easily able to, given his own weakened position, and so Abelard is feeling withdrawal from his god’s grace.
“The shakes were back, severe as the day after Kos’s death. Cigarettes barely helped; he had stopped in the Pleasure Quarters to refresh his supply. He had not slept straight through a night in three days, but whatever exhaustion he felt was buried under adrenaline and fear.”
Curiously, throughout the action-filled Chapter 17 – where Blacksuits fight against gargoyles, and most of our protagonists are arrested, including Abelard – there is not one reference to cigarettes or smoking. Given how frequently Abelard’s cigarettes are mentioned up until this point, and how we get the reference to the shakes coming back right before this chapter, this feels deliberate.
Has Kos retreated further into hiding? Is it because he has expended too much power, or because he is around both the Blacksuits and gargoyles, which both have connections to his sort-of-dead-sort-of-not lover Seril?
I think it’s likely a mix of the two. In Chapter 18, when Tara and Abelard converse on their way to the courthouse, the cigarettes are back in action. Even more notably, Abelard has strong reactions to discussions of Seril and the gargoyles, which are directly linked to mentions of his cigarette. Is this purely Abelard’s reaction? Or is it another connection to Kos – like the earlier references to cigarettes tasting like copper, sour panic when the gargoyles show up?
“I prayed when I returned to Alt Coulumb. Lord Kos visited my dreams at night, and saw my soul. I led Him to the Guardians, and He began to visit their dreams as well.”
Abelard’s chest clenched around the smoke in his lungs. He sucked air through his cigarette.
…
“And if Kos directed the bulk of his power outside the temple, to attend to matters he didn’t want you, or any of his priests, to know about—that would make the generators run cooler, wouldn’t it?”
Fire glared briefly at the tip of his cigarette, in his mouth, in his throat, in his stomach. His clothes felt too tight. His body felt too tight.”
These are some of the last references to Abelard and his cigarette before the climactic final battle that ultimately leads to the revival of both Kos and Seril, a second death for Abelard, and a final death for Denovo and Cardinal Gustave.
This article opened with the passage where Kos is revived, but let’s look at that again alongside some of the other cigarette references during the battle.
“Abelard took cover beneath his robe when the skylight caved in. … His cigarette, at least, remained undamaged, and with hasty hand-work he preserved it as he rolled over broken glass to extinguish the smouldering rest of him. (Chapter 19, Page 298)
Abelard looked in the Cardinal’s dying eyes, and saw within them no fire but that which consumes. He inhaled. The tip of his cigarette flared orange. Dying, Cardinal Gustave smiled. (Chapter 19, Page 306)
Denovo broke Abelard’s hold. Lightning crackled about his clawed hand as he brought it down on the young priest’s chest. For an instant, Denovo was a figure of deepest black with shock-white hair, standing before an audience of alabaster statues. When light and time righted themselves, Abelard lay still on the rough marble, the stub of his cigarette smoking where it protruded from his lips. Denovo rose to his feet. (Chapter 19, Page 314)
She stood within a resurrection circle, over a dead priest whose lips still clutched a smouldering cigarette. But this circle was not drawn for a man. It was drawn for a god.
Denovo called on all his Craft, releasing the gargoyles and their goddess and Tara, everything save for his hold on the fiery sphere. He threw doom and lightning against Elayne and rent the earth beneath her feet and cast her into the outer hells, or tried. Shadow seeped from her, devouring starlight and torchlight and his Craft alike. The blood circle blazed the myriad colours of pure white light.
Within the shadow, within the circle, the flame of a cigarette tip flared. (Chapter 19, Page 317-318)
A faint remnant of his logical mind remembered that for some reason, though he had smoked constantly since his Lord’s death, in three days he had not once used a lighter or a match. Always he passed flame from one cigarette to the next.
He surrendered to God. Every breath of smoke lingering in his lungs, every trace of fire that calmed him in his hours of need, he gave them forth freely.
He was the size of a city, the size of the world, the size of the universe, smaller than the smallest atom. He was ash, and he burned eternal in a million suns.
Brilliant and new as a phoenix, Kos the Everburning rose from the ember at the tip of Abelard’s cigarette. (Chapter 19, Page 318)”
Foreshadowing
So far, this – frankly ridiculously long – article has focused on clues and hints that you can enjoy on rereads. Or, if your brain works differently than mine, pick up on throughout your first read.
The final section I want to focus on is the foreshadowing and worldbuilding that lets Kos’ return feel realistic rather than a (literal?) deus ex machina.
As this is the first book published in the Craft Sequence, it’s likely that it is most readers’ introduction to the world and its magic system. We only know what we are told about Craft and Applied Theology, and a fair bit is glossed over. We know that using magic in this world involves soulstuff, words, legal contracts, economic processes. We know that it can be immensely powerful – the literal gods are a bit of a giveaway of this, as is the casual reference that early ventures into Craft created the Crack in the World, a hole of unreality. Magic can literally rewrite the world.
Yet it is still grounded. We see the systems that are in place – boilers, gears, coolant systems for Kos’ fire magic, wordy complex contracts about power being transferred from one entity to another. We know it takes years of study. We know it consumes life itself.
Kos – and Seril, for that matter – actually not being dead despite everyone thinking they are could feel like it undermines this complexity if it was a twist reveal at the end without strong build-up. If Elayne just announced at the end that lol, Kos was hiding the whole time! it would feel unearned.
Luckily, Gladstone gives us explicit descriptions of how the reveal could work very early in the book. It’s phrased as the opposite of what’s actually happening; then, later, it seems to the reader that it was foreshadowing Seril’s return. When it is finally revealed that it was foreshadowing both gods’ return, it’s a fist pump hell yeah moment instead of a damp squib.
In Chapter 6, while floating miles above a giant 3D virtual reconstruction of Kos’ body (not a sentence I ever thought I’d type, but here we are) Tara explains to Abelard how the resurrection of gods works.
“We can make something from this body that will honour Kos’s obligations, but we will have to cut out other parts of him. Alt Coulumb will be warm this winter, and the trains will run on time. Gods and Craftsmen throughout the world will continue to draw on the power of Alt Coulumb’s fire-god, but the entity you call Kos is gone.”
“What will be different?”
She tried to think of something encouraging to tell him, but failed. “It sounds like Kos was a hands-on deity. Knew the people of Alt Coulumb by name. That will change. He used to visit your dreams, in the long nights of your soul. I imagine the faithful felt his radiance throughout the city. No more. Even his voice won’t be the same.”
“But we’ll have heat, and trains.”
“Yes.” Don’t sneer at heat and power and transportation, she wanted to say. Hundreds of thousands in this city would die without them even before the winter, from riots and looting, pestilence and war.
She kept silent.”
Abelard counters this by asking whether the love of Kos’ people could call him back to life. Tara agrees that it’s possible, but highly unlikely:
“Surely some of my Lord’s people loved Him more than they needed His gifts. Couldn’t that love call Him back to life?”
“Maybe.” She chose her words carefully. “He could take refuge in their love to escape his obligations. Consciousness is a higher order function, though. A god requires the faith of around a thousand followers before displaying rudimentary intelligence, and that’s if those followers ask nothing in return for their love. If a heavily contracted god, like Kos, tried to do what you describe, he would be barely alive, and in constant, excruciating pain from the contracts that tore at him. If you asked him, he would probably rather die.”
“It sounds horrible.”
“It is.”
As it happens, this is precisely what Kos has done – taken refuge in Abelard’s love for him to escape his obligations. He is barely alive and in constant pain. Yet, he survives.
This is also how Seril, thought to have died over 40 years ago and semi-resurrected as Justice, survived. Part of her survived through her children, her gargoyles. When her continued existence is revealed in the plot, it appears to be the resolution of this foreshadowing. Therefore, when it turns out it’s foreshadowing both her AND Kos, the reader is surprised but can believe it.
And there we have it. Over six thousand words examining every clue and piece of foreshadowing that Kos was in fact still alive, and hidden in Abelard’s cigarette. This is longer than any essay I wrote across two degrees.
I feel like this explains a lot about me.
What do you think? Did I miss anything? Let me know what you think on Twitter or comment below!