AS THE SHADOW RISES by Katy Rose Pool now has a cover

If you loved Katy Rose Pool’s There Will Come a Darkness, then you’ll be happy to know that the cover was just revealed for the sequel, AS THE SHADOW RISES!

Not only that, an excerpt was also released, which you can read below. But first, the cover and the synopsis:

Official synopsis:

The Last Prophet has been found, yet he sees destruction ahead.

In this sequel to the critically-acclaimed There Will Come a Darkness, kingdoms have begun to fall to a doomsday cult, the magical Graced are being persecuted, and an ancient power threatens to break free. But with the world hurtling toward its prophesized end, Anton’s haunting vision reveals the dangerous beginnings of a plan to stop the Age of Darkness.

As Jude, Keeper of the Order of the Last Light, returns home in disgrace, his quest to aid the Prophet is complicated by his growing feelings for Anton. Meanwhile, the assassin known as the Pale Hand will stop at nothing to find her undead sister before she dies for good, even if it means letting the world burn. And in Nazirah, Hassan, the kingdom-less Prince, forms a risky pact to try to regain his throne. When the forces of light and darkness collide in the City of Mercy, old wounds are reopened, new alliances are tested, and the end of the world begins.

And now, just a swoon warning, this excerpt contains an interaction between Anton and Jude, so read at your own risk!


Anton sat up, gasping in the darkness. His sheets had been pushed off the bed, his neck and forehead damp with cold sweat. He raised a shaking hand to his face to wipe at a stray tear.

            The images from his dream swam behind his eyes. The Nameless Woman, his grandmother…and the Hierophant. It had felt so real, like he’d really been in that room, watching the Witnesses torture that prisoner, his screams ringing around them.

Anton sat up, gasping in the darkness. His sheets had been pushed off the bed, his neck and forehead damp with cold sweat. He raised a shaking hand to his face to wipe at a stray tear.

            The images from his dream swam behind his eyes. The Nameless Woman, his grandmother…and the Hierophant. It had felt so real, like he’d really been in that room, watching the Witnesses torture that prisoner, his screams ringing around them.

            It would mean at least a week’s hike in either direction—Anton wasn’t sure exactly where in the Gallian Mountains they were, but he knew if he followed the river long enough, he’d hit a coast eventually. From there, he would figure the rest out. He always did. He would be alone, but he’d been alone his whole life. Why should now be any different?

            It was supposed to be, a voice in the back of his mind whispered. This time, you were supposed to have someone to protect you.

            He shoved the thought away viciously, climbing out of bed and throwing a few changes of clothes into one of the sheets, tying it up like a sack. He slipped outside, closing the door behind him as quietly as he could, and crept across the darkened courtyard toward the barrack’s storeroom. In the absence of the fort’s usual noise, the rush of the river sounded twice as loud.

            The storeroom was unlocked, the door slightly ajar. Anton supposed that as isolated as they were here, they didn’t need to worry about petty thieves.

            Once inside, Anton tapped on the incandescent light until it illuminated the cavernous storeroom. Starting down the first row of shelves, Anton began gathering his provisions, fingers skimming the shelves and plucking out whatever looked serviceable—a few root vegetables, a skin of water, a sack of grain. He turned the corner to the next row of shelves and peered at a row of unlabeled jars. He grabbed one at random, opening the lid to sniff at it carefully.

            “Why is it,” a voice spoke from the darkness, “that whenever I can’t sleep, there you are.”

            Anton jumped, fumbling and knocking a stack of crates into the nearby shelf. The jar broke open at his feet, spilling salt grains all over the floor.

            Anton didn’t move to pick it up. Instead, he stared ahead, eyes adjusting to the dimness until he could see Jude half leaning against the shelf that ran along the storeroom’s back wall. His posture was crooked and slumped, like he was hurt.

            “You dreaming about me, Jude?” Anton asked. This was, he realized, the first time they had been face-to-face since arriving at Kerameikos. Since the Tribunal had barred them from seeing each other.

            Jude’s head lolled to the side, his gaze focused on Anton. “First the Hidden Spring,” he went on, as if he hadn’t heard him. “Then on the ship. Now here.”

            An uncharacteristic bitterness suffused Jude’s words, and there was something else about his voice that sounded wrong. As Jude lifted a jug to his lips and took a long gulp, the whole image of him came together. The heavy slump of his shoulders. The unfocused gaze. The slur of his words.

            Jude wasn’t hurt. He was drunk.

            The impossibility of this simple fact rendered Anton speechless for a long moment. He recalled the disdain with which Jude had refused even the smallest cup of wine by the crew of the Black Cormorant in Pallas Athos. Before arriving in Kerameikos, Anton had assumed all the Paladin abstained—but it was just Jude. Until now, anyway.

            In the silence that stretched between them, Jude raised the jug of wine, taking a long drink from it.

            “All right,” Anton said, kneeling at Jude’s side and gently tugging the jug away from him. “I think that’s enough.”

            Dealing with overindulgent patrons was something Anton had gotten a lot of practice at when he’d worked as a server at Thalassa Gardens. This wasn’t any different, really.

            Jude let Anton drag the jug away from him, his eyes unfocused and bleary.

            Anton set the jug down behind him. “Why don’t we get off the floor?”

            Jude wiped at the corner of his mouth with his palm. “I am exactly where I belong.”

            Anton swallowed and pushed himself to his feet. He stood there, considering Jude for a moment.

            “What are you doing in here?” Jude asked, as if the question had just occurred to him.

            “Nothing, Jude,” Anton said, hitching the sack up on his shoulder. “Go back to your room and go to sleep. You look terrible.”

            Jude’s gaze caught on Anton’s sack of stolen goods and he lurched to his feet abruptly. He stood over Anton, his cheeks flushed from the wine and his eyes burning in the dim light. “You’re leaving! You—You can’t do that. You’re the Prophet.”

            Anton set his jaw. “So?”

            “This is where you belong,” Jude said sharply. He wasn’t slurring anymore.

            “Says who?” Anton retorted, turning to leave.

            Jude spun and took a wavering step toward him. His brows drew into a taut line. “Says…me. I say. I won’t let you do this.”


You can read the rest of the excerpt here, or you can pre-order your copy of As the Shadow Rises through one of these links:

Bookshop | Amazon | Barnes & Noble

About Author

Southern California native who likes movies (Star Wars, Marvel, Love Simon), books (Shadowhunter Chronicles, NA, YA fantasy, Red Rising series), TV shows (Supernatural, The 100), food (sushi, seafood, steak, all kinds really), and San Diego Comic-Con. I also like to write, but don't get to do much of that aside from on here.

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