A visit to the Palace of Westminster after reading Rivers of London is to walk in Peter Grant's world, a world where the ancient and the modern, the magical and the mundane, collide. The sheer weight of history embedded in the stone, usually a silent backdrop to political drama, becomes palpable, almost a character itself. You might find yourself looking beyond the stern faces of statues, wondering what restless spirits or forgotten deities might linger in the shadows of Westminster Hall. The echoing chambers, normally filled with the clamor of debate, might whisper with the echoes of long-past events, imbued with a sense of hidden power just beneath the surface, the same power Peter is learning to wield. The knowledge of the rivers flowing beneath the city, subtly influencing its rhythms, lends an unseen dimension to the very ground you stand on, a constant, magical undercurrent to the business of government above.