“I could still feel the weight of Sulien’s terror, the way he’d looked at me like I was a loaded weapon about to go off. Maybe I was. Maybe that’s all I’d ever be—a danger to everyone I cared about.”

In literature, anaphora refers to the repetition of a word or phrase at the beginning of consecutive phrases or sentences. The repetition of the word “Maybe” in the last two sentences of this passage is an example of anaphora that illustrates Thais’s self-doubt and self-loathing at the start of the novel. Similarly, the simile likening Thais to “a loaded weapon about to go off” illustrates her initial fear and guilt regarding her powers. In addition, her concern that she’s doomed to be “a danger to everyone [she] care[s] about” foreshadows Sulien’s death at the priests’ hands.

“You all know how it began—Morthus, Aesymar of death and King of Draknavor. Cold as winter stone, implacable as the tide. For millennia, he ruled his domain without passion, without mercy, without love.”

The similes describing Morthus as “[c]old as winter stone” and “implacable as the tide” add color to the traditional tale and convey the God of Death’s forbidding nature before he fell in love with Osythe. Repetition and asyndeton, the deliberate omission of a coordinating conjunction between words or phrases, build suspense and emphasize the brutality of Morthus’s early reign in the phrase “without passion, without mercy, without love.” The tale offers foreshadowing about Xül, who is the son of Morthus and Osythe. Morthus himself also becomes an essential supporting character and a key figure in the themes of love and revenge.

“Let them dress me up like a doll if it would help. Let them paint me and powder me and make me beautiful for their entertainment. Because when I stood before the Aesymar, I would be the spectacle they were looking for. I would be powerful. I would be everything they wanted and more. And I would make them spare my brother.”

The repetition of “Let them” and “I would” at the beginning of consecutive sentences are instances of anaphora. In the second sentence, the repetition of “and” in the verb phrase “paint me and powder me and make me beautiful for their entertainment” is an example of polysyndeton, the stylistic addition of coordinating conjunctions where none are grammatically necessary. Together, these two literary devices express Thais’s determination to use the gods’ love of spectacle against them so that she can advance her own goals. The simile comparing Thais to “a doll” conveys the gods’ disregard for the contestants, exposing the attention lavished on the mortals’ physical appearances as yet another tool of the gods’ corrupt control over their lives.

“Not just revenge. Not just justice. But balance. He’d created us through violence. It seemed fitting that violence would be what destroyed him. I saw it then. Purpose. A reason for all this pain that went beyond just enduring it. I’m going to kill him. The decision didn’t feel like a choice. It felt like gravity—inevitable, inescapable. Like it had been waiting inside me since the moment I first learned what he’d done to our mother.”

This passage marks a turning point for the plot and the theme of revenge. The simile comparing Thais’s decision to gravity and the diction of the adjectives “inevitable” and “inescapable” also connect to the theme of Self-Determination Versus Destiny by suggesting that Thais was always fated to kill Olinthar.

“An imposing black castle rose from dark sand, its spires reaching toward a sky the color of fresh blood. Sharp rocks jutted from the shoreline like the teeth of some massive beast, and between them, waves rolled onto a beach in a steady, hypnotic dance, shimmering foam dragging along the sand at their retreat. The sight should have been terrifying—this nightmare of black stone and crimson sky. It called to me instead.”

Grenwich and Lennox use visual imagery, such as “black stone” and “the color of fresh blood,” to capture Thais’s first impressions of the Bone Spire and the realm of Draknavor. The simile comparing the rocks on the shore to “the teeth of some massive beast” adds to the forbidding atmosphere. The juxtaposition of the passage’s ominous mood with the way that the familiarity of the sea “call[s]” to Thais foreshadows her eventual fondness for Draknavor and parallels how she falls in love with Xül despite his intimidating appearance and fearsome reputation.

“She dissolved back into that hungry light, leaving only the lingering scent of wildflowers and something underneath that smelled like rot. Like death. Like the dark, wet places where things went to decompose.”

This passage about Davina, the God of Nature, uses olfactory imagery, such as “the lingering scent of wildflowers” and the stench of “rot,” to create an ominous tone. The layered scents reflect the duality of the natural world, which encompasses great beauty as well as the struggle for survival. The fragments and anaphora in the last two sentences add emphasis and suspense.

“My skull felt as if someone had taken a war hammer to it and decided a few extra swings couldn’t hurt. When I dared crack my eyes open, the world tilted and spun like a ship in a storm.”

The figurative language comparing Thais’s headache to being struck with “a war hammer” and the world to “a ship in a storm” conveys her injured, depleted state after her near-death experience in the first Trial. The choice of similes reflects the character’s maritime background and her wry humor in the face of danger, two key aspects of her identity and narrative voice.

“‘I was born a pawn in a game larger than myself.’ He trailed off, his expression darkening. ‘I remain as bound as any prisoner in my cells.’”

Xül develops the theme of self-determination versus destiny through a metaphor describing himself as “a pawn in a game larger than [him]self” and the simile that he is “as bound as any prisoner in [his] cells.” These figures of speech convey his resignation to his duty and his belief that there is no hope for him and Thais to have a future together at this point in the story.

“I pictured the calm waters of Saltcrest at dawn, the rhythmic sound of waves against the shore, the familiar weight of an oar in my hands. Gradually, deliberately, I slowed my breathing, my heartbeat, pushing away the panic that threatened to consume me.”

The authors provide auditory imagery, such as “the rhythmic sound of waves against the shore,” to depict the setting of Saltcrest and foster a calm mood. Thais and Thatcher’s detailed memories of their home are important to the plot because they help the twins overcome their fears and survive the second Trial.

“The world tilted, edges going white, then red, then white again. My knees locked to keep from buckling as every nightmare, every whispered prayer for vengeance, every tear shed in darkness crashed into this singular reality: him. Here. Close enough to touch. Close enough to kill.”

Grenwich and Lennox convey how Thais feels faint the first time that she sees Olinthar in person through the visual imagery of the world “going white, then red, then white again.” The asyndeton and repetition in the phrase “every nightmare, every whispered prayer for vengeance, every tear shed in darkness” underline the pain that Olinthar has caused her and her determination to avenge her family. The fragments at the end of the passage break up the flow of the narration to make Thais’s overwhelming emotions more palpable.

“This was foolishness. Dangerous foolishness. I needed to focus on survival, on the goal, on everything I’d learned and everything I had yet to. Not on sultry eyes and wicked smiles. Not on the way my body and power both responded to his touch. Not on the dangerous spark that had ignited in my chest.”

The repetition of the word “foolishness” illustrates Thais’s efforts to discourage her attraction to Xül after their first kiss. The repetition of “Not” at the start of the last three sentences is an example of anaphora, and these fragments show how Thais is divided; even as she scolds herself for her feelings, her thoughts linger on Xül’s “sultry eyes” and the way she “responded to his touch.” Thais’s inner conflict in this passage aligns with the back-and-forth associated with the slow-burn and forbidden romance subgenres.

“The earth beneath me rumbled. Something clawing its way out. Pale in the darkness. Rot crawled up my nostrils.”

The sensory details in this passage, such as the olfactory imagery of the scent of rot, are separated into distinct sentences and fragments to show how Thais’s awareness of her surroundings is disrupted as Kavik throttles her. This fragmentation also draws out the scene’s suspense by delaying the revelation that Xül has summoned corpses to protect Thais.

“‘They executed him,’ I said, the words painful to speak aloud. […] The memory was so vivid I could almost smell the smoke from the bonfire, hear the shocked gasps of the villagers. I closed my eyes against it, but that only made the images more intense.”

The excerpt provides olfactory imagery, such as the smell of “the smoke from the bonfire,” and auditory imagery, such as “the shocked gasps of the villagers.” These “vivid” details show how the memory of Sulien’s death haunts Thais in her waking moments as well as in her night terrors.

“All through the space, fire pits burned. They flickered between bright yellow and molten red, reaching high, flames licking the mist that permeated the room. They almost looked out of place, intense hues amongst all of the pastels.”

The visual imagery of the “bright yellow and molten red” fires enhances the depiction of the unusual ballroom. In addition, the clashing aesthetics of the “intense hues” that “almost looked out of place […] amongst all of the pastels” offer a clue that the ball is in fact a Trial designed by the Aesymar of Illusions and the Aesymar of Fire.

“Dinner was a joyous affair, with delicious dishes I’d never tasted—the stew we’d prepared, rich with unfamiliar spices; flat bread still warm from the oven; roasted vegetables glazed with honey and pepper.”

The authors utilize the inviting gustatory and tactile imagery of the stew “rich with unfamiliar spices” and “flat bread still warm from the oven” to show the warm welcome that Xül’s mortal relatives give Thais. Precise adjectives like “joyous” and “unfamiliar” speak to the close-knit family’s kindness by showing how comfortable Thais feels in this new place surrounded by people she just met.

“As sleep began to claim me, I felt him whisper something else against my skin—words too soft to catch, perhaps not meant for me to hear. But the sentiment wrapped around me like a blanket, warm and safe and perfect.”

The comparison of Xül’s whispered “sentiment” to “a blanket, warm and safe and perfect” combines simile and polysyndeton, underscoring how his relationship with Thais has become much more romantic and intimate. The scene also provides foreshadowing. Unbeknownst to Thais, the incantation that Xül whispers over her is the Sev’anarath, a ritual that binds his soul to hers and serves as a symbol of The Sacrifices of Love and Loyalty.

“I resent you. I resent that you made me need you. I resent that you were ready to die without a second thought about what that would do to me. I resent that even now, knowing all of this, I can’t make myself stop wanting you.”

Each of the sentences in this passage begins with the words “I resent,” an example of anaphora that emphasizes the complexity of Xül and Thais’s dangerous, powerful feelings for one another. Xül’s inner conflict and his declaration that he “can’t make [him]self stop wanting [her]” advance the novel’s forbidden romance and foreshadow his attempt to call off his arranged marriage to Nyvora.

“‘I’d burn Voldaris to the ground for you.’

I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. The raw confession stripped me bare, left me defenseless against the tidal wave rising in my chest.”

The repetition and fragment in the sentences “I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think” reveal how moved Thais is by Xül’s words. The authors use metaphorical language to express Thais’s complex feelings; she feels “stripped […] bare” by his confession, and her love is compared to a “tidal wave rising in [her] chest.” These literary devices emphasize the scene’s importance as a turning point for the central romance. In addition, Thais’s vulnerability and powerful feelings speak to the complexities of love.

“‘That’s where we’ll stand?’ Marx murmured beside me. ‘Like living statues?’

‘It would seem so,’ I said, unable to keep the bite from my voice. The pedestals looked like altars. Like sacrificial stones. In a way, I supposed they were.”

Thais uses similes to compare the pedestals where she and the other surviving contestants stand during the Forging to “altars” and “sacrificial stones.” The figures of speech escalate the scene’s suspense by offering a reminder that the contestants might die during the Forging and that, even if Thais, Thatcher, and Marx survive, they will have to sacrifice important aspects of themselves to attain godhood.

“‘Xül.’ My father’s voice cut through my concentration, deadly quiet. ‘What have you done?’

I stopped, turning to face him in the empty chamber. His expression had shifted from concern to dawning realization, and the fury building behind his eyes made his earlier anger seem like a gentle breeze before a hurricane.”

The authors use a simile to liken Morthus’s “earlier anger” to “a gentle breeze before a hurricane.” Xül’s father’s wrath helps to convey the gravity of what Xül has done by binding his soul to Thais’s, adding to the scene’s suspense.

“Olinthar’s body betrayed itself. Arms bent the wrong way. Skin rippled and bubbled like boiling water. Bones cracked and reformed, turning him into a puppet with tangled strings.”

Grenwich and Lennox add to the intense, uncanny atmosphere of Thatcher’s battle with Moros with a simile likening Olinthar’s bubbling skin to “boiling water” and a metaphor that compares his broken body to “a puppet with tangled strings.” These instances of figurative language raise the climax’s stakes by showing how difficult it is to destroy Moros even with Thatcher’s Primordial power.

“The implications crashed over us. Moros alive. Moros having controlled the pantheon’s highest seat for years. Moros with knowledge of all our secrets, our weaknesses, our plans. And now Thatcher—with power that could rival a Primordial’s—lost in the ether where Moros could reach him.”

The second, third, and fourth sentences begin with “Moros,” an instance of anaphora that underscores the immense threat that the antagonist poses to the universe. The authors’ decision to write most of the passage as fragments indicates that the “implications” of these revelations are almost too dire for Xül to process.

“Inside, a woman stirred something on the stove. A man sat at our table—Sulien’s table—teaching a boy to tie the same knots my father taught us. The child’s tongue stuck out in concentration, small fingers fumbling with the rope. Life had simply flowed into the spaces we left behind. Like water filling a hole in sand.”

Thais’s return to her childhood home in Saltcrest brings the novel full circle and underscores how much Thais has changed since the story began. The italics on Sulien’s name signal that he still has a powerful claim on Thais’s heart even though his worldly belongings have passed to new owners. The final fragment uses a simile to compare the way that life in the village goes on without Thais, her father, and her twin to “water filling a hole in sand.” The simile speaks to the hollowness and displacement that Thais feels as she returns to her village after losing her brother, the last member of her family.