In Stone and Sky, a family vacation turns into a search for clues and a mystery to be solved. A world where magic and mythical beings mingle with humans. The group of characters are fun, messy and witty. The story unfolds in such a way that there is always a surprise and it makes thirsty for more. I loved Indigo's surprise.

Another hell of a ride from Aaronovitch. It was great to see Scotland within the confines of the series, definitely some interesting breadcrumbs dropped in the novel, most intriguingly about the foxes. The only real negatives in my opinion were Peter's overall lack of screentime and the ham-handed insertion of real world politics. Not exactly what I'm looking for in my escape within a fantasy novel.Still those two quibbles aside I enjoyed the novel.

At this point, this series is comfort reading for me. I can trust that the core characters aren't going to be offed just for the sake of it, that it will have a broad and diverse cast of characters, and that it will be suitably weird and magical. I think my critiques of some of the most recent entries - including some of the novellas - have been that they haven't included all the fun stuff the series has to offer, and I felt like this entry was a return to form. It had plenty of Nightingale, of Bev, of Abigail and the foxes, of the weirder cryptids.

I have always liked that Aaronovitch includes verbatim the language that Peter's Sierra Leonean mother uses, but I must say that I was less convinced by Abigail's patterns of speech and the Scots; maybe this is just that I didn't get so clear a sense of the code switching.

Ultimately, the difficulty this series has to navigate is the balance between police work and magic. I definitely felt like Amongst Our Weapons leaned too hard on the police work; this is also the problem that I had with the newest entry in the Checquy series, Royal Gambit. I care more about the magic than the police work: the police aspect of it is interesting primarily because in a low fantasy environment, police are the people society expects to solve mysteries, and so if you want to have a mystery in your story, you need to consider them. Yes, it's fun to have the references to the operational aspect of modern British policing, but it's more fun to have magic.

Peter Grant is back and the gang’s all here! Even more fun, they are leaving the familiar surrounds of London and the Folly and trooping up to Scotland to investigate “a weird death even by sheep standards.” Peter has brought the whole family, including his parents, and his Dad has brought his jazz band. Nightingale has brought Abdul and Abigail, and Abigail has brought spy fox Indigo.
I was pretty excited to read this tenth novel in a series merges magic, folklore, danger and humour so successfully. As expected, what began as a simple problem grows more complex, more messy and of course even weirder. We meet new allies and antagonists and new magical creatures. The mixture as before, and a tasty mixture it is. Not one for first-time readers of the series, who will only be confused by the huge cast of characters. But for fans, it’s mostly what you want and expect from this series. Mostly.
However, this time the story is told from the viewpoints of both Peter and Abigail, in alternating chapters. And here is where I ran into a bit of a glitch. I love the foxes, and I like Abigail well enough, but a large part of her story arc is taken up by a romance that I did not care for at all. Firstly, it is less a romance than intense insta-lust, a trope I hate reading about and avoid when I can. But the other problem I had is less a matter of personal taste. The more I read about this relationship, the more it felt like it could be a magical compulsion, and therefore not consensual. After a particular revelation, this theory made even more sense. I kept waiting for Peter or Nightingale to at least flag the possibility, given their knowledge of magic and folklore, but this never happened. And the final chapter did nothing to allay my suspicions. In fact, it also hinted at a possible alternative explanation that is no less problematic. The discomfit of this marred my enjoyment of the novel quite a bit, despite all the good things on display here.
My rating is 3.5 stars, rounded up to 4 because part of my problem with the romance is merely personal preference.

Book 10 in this series that never gets old. After a few short stories and novellas, Peter Grant returns with some
Old characters and new.

Fun, mysterious and just simply wonderful there is very little to say about this series that’s not been said already.

Compelling storytelling that I could read all day.

I remember having SUCH a great time when I first discovered the Rivers Of London books, and this is probably one of the series I own most physical copies of. There is just something about this blend of urban fantasy, thriller and humor that makes for a fantastic bookish cocktail, and I've been following the series for years. That said, the most recent sequels and short stories haven't quite measured up to the first couple of books... But book nine seemed to be on the right track again, so I decided to still read Stone And Sky to see if the upward trend would hold. Unfortunately, this didn't quite end up being the case, and this series might just have run its course for me.

So, Stone And Sky. Before I continue, I have to repeat that this is definitely a series to read in order, because you won't have a clue what is going on otherwise. There is a big cast of characters and numerous references to previous books, and you will also be missing out on key character development and dynamics... Don't say I haven't warned you. This newest sequel will bring you a mix of old and new characters as well as a new magically touched case to investigate; it seems like Peter can't even go on vacation without trouble finding him, but that doesn't come as a real surprise of course.

Book number ten is different than the first nine sequels in the sense that the setting switches to Scotland instead of the usual London backdrop. Nothing wrong with that, and I quite liked the descriptions of the Scottish setting and how it actually played an active role in the plot. I had mixed thoughts about the incorporation of many Scottish phrases and the use of local dialect in the dialogues though... While authentic (something I love as a philologist), I also struggled considerably to understand what they were saying at times. This might just be a consequence of being a non-native English speaker, but I can imagine anyone not familiar with the Scottish dialect struggling.

The plot itself is interesting enough and it had plenty of twists and turns, although I do wish there would have been more focus on the concept of the parallel worlds and other magical aspects of the story. I also wasn't as big of a fan of Abigail's POV and just how present she was in the plot. Sure, I can't deny that I LOVE the talking foxes, but her POV mainly read like a YA romance/coming of age novel and that isn't exactly my cup of tea. I also wasn't a fan of the tone of the writing in her chapters; I guess that it is ment to portray how teenagers speak now, but it was both highly annoying and at times not all that easy to understand.

With Peter, Nightingale and Abigail mixing business with pleasure during their holiday in Scotland and the fact that they came with the whole family, this means that there are multiple angles and storylines to be discovered along the way. We mainly stay with Peter and Abigail though, and I kind of missed not seeing more of Nightingale. Peter's POV is just as great as always, and I enjoyed both seeing him with Beverley and the twins as well as following him as he starts investigating the new case. His humor is just as brilliant as always, and he is one of the main reasons I've kept reading this series as long as I did.

In short, there were elements I enjoyed in Stone And Sky, but as a whole I don't think this sequel lives up to the quality of the first books of this series. Part of this probably had to do with the fact that Abigail plays a big role in this book, and her chapters deviated from the usual formula... The talking foxes were brilliant, but the YA romance feel not so much. I'm starting to suspect that this series simply has run its course for me, and I'm not sure if I will continue reading it considering the fact that the most recent sequels just haven't quite hit the mark for me.

The “Rivers of London“ series by Ben Aaronovitch is incredibly imaginative - it’s a universe based on ours, but with powerful, magical beings who draw their strength from the rivers under and around London. 

In Stone and Sky, the action moves to Scotland. The central characters, Peter and Abigail, investigate mysterious deaths and reports of missing persons. Without giving anything away, this is a very enjoyable read. It would help to read the earlier books in the series (simply because they are so inventive), but I think this could be read as a stand-alone.

Thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for the ARC.

I have read every book in the „Rivers of London“ series and I have loved them all so I was overjoyed to get the opportunity to read and review this book!
Nightingale is called to Scotland to investigate dead sheeps and Peter and Beverly and their family follow along for a vacation. It is not long before they encounter various magical creatures, both friend and foe and of course what started as a vacation turns into another gripping adventure for our friends from the Folly.
I have been waiting for this book to come out and I thoroughly enjoyed reading it. Aaronovitch is a master in combining magical elements with the real world and his dry humour is completely up my alley. In this book the POV changes between Peter and Abigail but all the chapters convene in a great and compelling story.
Another excellent book in the „Rivers of London“ world and one that has me already looking forward to (hopefully) many more books in the series!

Told by Peter and Abigail in alternating POVs, Stone and Sky finds the members of the Folly (and their families) off to Scotland as they investigate magical and/or mythical creatures' appearances: some dead while others caused death. Peter joins with an officer of the Scottish Police to investigate the deaths and a missing person report. Abigail goes in search of the creatures and why they are suddenly appearing. Their two separate investigations merge as they use their special abilities to figure out what is going on and how the incidents are related. This novel is rather different from previous Rivers of London novels in several ways: Location, Abigail's growing abilities, and Beverley's special skill-set. An enjoyable read. Looking forward to the further adventures of the Folly and its members.

The latest in the Rivers of London series takes Peter Grant and his family to Scotland for a relaxing holiday except as always when the Folly is involved things get a little more complicated.

As always with the Rivers of London series the characters are loveable, my only downside would be I would love to see more Nightingale. Abigails chapters bring a different and fresh outlook at magic and you can feel the teenage snark in each comment towards other characters.

The pacing of the book is great as it keeps you hooked with a relatively quick paced novel. Lots of nerdy references and a good dose of Scottish culture with a magical touch. Cant wait for more from this world.

Thank you netgalley & DAW for the ARC

An amazing Scottish adventure with Peter and Abigail! Though I wish the chapter headings had marked whether it was from Peter or Abigail’s POV since it was difficult to tell without the foxes.

Finally, an entertaining return to form by Ben Aaronovitch. Its been a fair few books since I had as much fun as this reading ab instalment in the series.

When a sheep gets mutilated on the Scottish countryside in an extremely strange way, it seems like the perfect excuse for Peter to pack up Bev and the kids and go on a family vacation. Needless to say, what starts as a basic case becomes much more complex when a mysterious body drops, and evidence of other strange creatures begins to appear.

This book was really good. Like, actually fun to read. I've read and appreciated the recent instalments in this series, but I don't think I've actually enjoyed reading one of these this much since at least 3 or 4 books ago. Let's dive into it.

First thing I loved about it is that this is as much Abigail's book as it is Peter's. They each become embroiled in mysteries that they investigate almost exclusively, Peter aided by the local fuzz while Abigail has Nightingale backing up her plays and dealing with a lot of the ancillary stuff while very much letting her take charge. It was fun to read these two adventures play out, the way they each navigate their mysteries, the unique relationships and internal monologue as we go. What I've always loved about Peter's stories are how very police procedural they are, proper British with a splash of that Jamaican/African manner of speech, whereas with Abigail we get more of that wildcard PI style sleuthing we more expect in these types of UF books and her inner monologue runs much more in the slang direction.

And then we have the mystery itself, a slow burn that runs in two completely different directions that don't make much sense until things slowly get revealed over the course of the novel. It was easy to guess the dark twist at the end of this book related to what was happening with a certain group, but to nevertheless see it unfold was still messed up. But just as exciting, there are teases and hints here that begin to lay the stage for a larger story arc, which is great; one of the reasons I think I've just not enjoyed the recent installments as much is because they've been very standalone, self contained stories that just felt like the wheels getting spun for no reason. I hope things only continue to pick up from here.

I think thats pretty much all I have to say about this book. Its a fun self contained adventure that also seems to tease at larger things in store. It continues the progress of time with the way certain characters have moved from the forefront to the side and vice versa, helping to keep the series lively and fresh in an interesting way. If Ben Aaronovitch keeps up his recent pattern, then its a good thing I enjoyed this one because next year we'll get an unrelated novella and then I can look forward to the main story continuing in 2027.

NOTE: YouTube link goes public on 21st June 2025 @ 3 PM EST.

Thank you to Netgalley and the publisher for the advance reader's copy of the book. I really enjoyed this book. It's an excellent entry in the series and just continues to expand the world that has been introduced in the previous nine books. I love Peter and Beverly with their twins and Abigail with Nightingale off doing their thing. I also enjoyed the splitting of the story with Peter and Abigail narration alternating. Solid 4.5 stars. Can't wait for the next entry in the series.

When some interesting remains are found in Scotland, Peter Grant finds himself going up for some gentle investigating while trying to enjoy a family holiday. And the entire gang join him, Bev, the twins, Peter’s Mum and Dad, Abigail and even Nightingale and Dr Walid join in. And where Abigail goes, foxes go too.

It’s a slightly busy and complicated start, the reader is not helped by the first person narrative switching between Peter and Abigail. But once you tune in and the story kicks up a gear, it’s good Scottish fun!

There are bad things going down and some mythical creatures are causing danger and mayhem. A scientist has vanished and Peter helps the local cops while trying to find the link between all the weird things going on. Not much of a holiday sadly.
Meanwhile Abigail makes a new friend and makes her own investigation using the local fox community, and everything seems to be linked to the sea and something mysterious going on in the water.
The last novella (The Masquerades of Spring) was a massive disappointment but this puts the series properly back on track. Slightly slow first half but the second half is the fun you would expect and provides the quirky mix of character, location and history.

Thank you to NetGalley and DAW Books for the ARC!

A family trip to Scotland quickly turns into a new case for Peter and the Folly crew, with almost everyone being called in at one point or another to lend a hand.

This book felt like a breath of fresh air, and though I enjoyed the last two in the series, the introduction of a second POV to alternate between feels like exactly what I've been waiting for. Abigail and Peter have just enough similarities to make a great team (and to always end up in walking into trouble), but are different enough that they approach problems in new ways. While the book had some loose threads that played much larger parts of the story than was absolutely necessary, jumping back and forth between the two wizards was a delight, and watching Nightingale settle further into his mentor role and step back as a more active player is immensely satisfying.

The Uneven Gaze: Queer Representation, Magical Manipulation, and Authorial Distance in Ben Aaronovitch’s Stone & Sky
I’ve been a fan of Ben Aaronovitch’s “Rivers of London” series since my good friend Matt first loaned me books 1-5 of the series many years ago. I thoroughly enjoyed the sense of humor, the urban fantasy worldbuilding and its commitment to diversity. I have been looking forward to the latest installment in the series – which includes graphic novels and novellas.

Unfortunately, plot and character seem to fall short in “Stone & Sky,” and I found more than a few distracting representational and structural issues that reduced my overall enjoyment. More than previous installments in this series, this one (combined with my recent reading of the “Springtime Masquerade” and the two most recent graphic novels) illuminated questions about authenticity, authorial gaze, and the limits of metaphor in fantasy fiction.

From uneven portrayals of queer relationships to the infantilization of magical beings, from the overuse of white male cultural references to the stylized rendering of dialect and slang, Stone & Sky reveals cracks in the series’ inclusive veneer. What emerges is a pattern of selective authenticity—where some identities are explored with depth and care, while others are flattened, exoticized, or reduced to narrative shorthand.

Queer characters have been present throughout the series—Thomas Nightingale, the emotionally reserved wizard, and Augustus “Gussie” Berrycloth-Young, a flamboyant figure in The Masquerades of Spring. Yet their romantic or sexual lives are treated with restraint, stylization, or humor. Nightingale’s queerness is acknowledged but rarely explored with emotional intimacy. Gussie is rendered as a campy, comedic figure whose attraction to men is more implied than deeply felt.

In contrast, Stone & Sky devotes significant narrative space to Abigail Kamara’s emotional and romantic attraction to Ione, a new female character. Abigail’s feelings are described with vivid emotional texture—her longing, her confusion, her desire. This disparity raises a critical question: why is a teenage girl’s same-sex attraction rendered with such depth, while adult queer male relationships remain emotionally muted?

Abigail is portrayed as a teenager in Stone & Sky, though her exact age is never explicitly stated. Based on the series’ internal timeline, she was born in 2000, which would make her 24 or 25 if the book is set in 2024–2025. However, the tone of the narrative—and the way her emotional development is framed—suggests she is still in her late teens.

The narrative lingers on Abigail’s feelings for Ione in a way that feels less like a teenager discovering her identity and more like an adult imagining what that discovery might feel like. The emotional intensity, combined with the sensual framing, risks crossing into voyeurism -- especially given that the author, a white man in his 60s, is writing from the perspective of a teenage girl.

Writing across lines of identity—age, gender, race, sexuality—is not inherently problematic. But it requires care, humility, and a deep understanding of the lived experiences being portrayed. When a teenage girl’s romantic feelings are described with more emotional and sensual detail than any adult relationship in the series, it raises questions about authorial intent.

Is this Abigail’s authentic voice, or is it Aaronovitch’s projection of what a teenage girl might feel? The line between empathy and appropriation is thin, and in Stone & Sky, it feels increasingly blurred. The result is a portrayal that risks centering the author’s imagination more than the character’s truth. Back to Abigail’s voice in a moment.

Complicating matters further is the fact that Ione is not just a girl—she’s a siren, a magical being capable of manipulating human emotion through song. This raises a fundamental question: is Abigail’s attraction to Ione genuine, or is it the result of magical influence?

If Ione’s presence or voice can enchant anyone, then Abigail’s feelings may not be uniquely queer—or even uniquely hers. They could be induced, universal, or illusory. The narrative does not clearly interrogate this possibility, instead presenting Abigail’s emotional / hormonal / pheromonal experience as unquestionably real. This ambiguity undermines the authenticity of the queer representation the book seems to offer. If the attraction is magically induced, then it’s not a story about queer identity—it’s a story about manipulation and consent. Is Abigail truly consenting if she’s under the influence of glamour? Ione is presented as being at least 18 and heading off to uni – which further complicates the consent issue.

The Rivers of London universe is populated with magical beings—faeries, selkies, talking foxes, river gods—who often serve as metaphors for marginalized or misunderstood communities. While this can be a powerful narrative device, it also risks reinforcing stereotypes through fantasy proxies.

The fae are portrayed as beautiful and emotionally distant; the foxes as tribal and cunning; the rivers as territorial and often exoticized. These portrayals can feel like stand-ins for real-world racial, ethnic, or social groups—especially when their behaviors are framed through suspicion or danger. As Borowska-Szerszun (2021) notes, Aaronovitch’s work attempts to challenge the “habits of Whiteness” in fantasy fiction but also reveals the “friction and negotiation” involved in representing difference.

When magical beings are used to explore social issues without naming them directly, it creates a safe distance for the author but also a lack of accountability in how those metaphors land.

Characterization of voice, intelligence and other traits is another very noticeable part of “Rivers of London.” I remember the first time that I read D.H. Lawrence and couldn’t understand the dialect representation of the “lower class” manner of speaking. Aaronovitch frequently and unevenly represents Jamaican patois, Scottish, Irish and Caribbean English phonetically as “dialect,” while “standard” British or American English is not, implying a linguistic norm and effectively othering some of the characters. Using this technique can reinforce caricatures or reduce characters to their accents. It also creates a power imbalance in representation – regional or ethnic pronunciations are marked as “different” or “exotic” while others are normalized.

For example, more than in previous books in the series, Abigail’s dialogue is peppered with contemporary London slang, including terms like “bare,” “peng,” and “peak,” which are common in Multicultural London English (MLE). This is consistent with her earlier portrayals as a sharp, streetwise teen from South London who is very smart, picks up Latin and is training to be a wizard. However, in this novel, the use of slang feels exaggerated—almost performative—and stands in contrast to the way other young characters speak. Ione and her cousin Duncan, despite being close in age to Abigail, speak in a more neutral, almost formal tone (aside from occasional “Scottish as dialect” representations).

This inconsistency raises questions about why Abigail’s voice is so heavily stylized. Is it meant to emphasize her “urban” identity? If so, it risks reducing her to a stereotype—especially when other characters of similar age and background are not written with the same linguistic markers. It also reinforces a sense of “othering” within the narrative: Abigail becomes the “voice of the streets,” while others are allowed to speak more generically.

Rather shockingly – there are assertions made about the communication abilities or styles of other species / characters in the book. The selkies—mythical seal-people—are depicted as unable to speak English. Instead, they “bark,” and their communication is described in animalistic terms. This portrayal strips them of linguistic agency and positions them as less-than-human, even though they are sentient beings with their own culture, and clearly intelligent enough to be pursued and enslaved/indentured to work on deep marine oil projects.

This is compounded by a moment in which Beverley Brook, a river goddess and Peter’s wife, mentions attempts to communicate with bottle-nose whales—and dismisses them as “kind of stupid.” While this may be intended as a humorous aside, it reinforces a troubling pattern: magical or non-human beings are often portrayed as primitive, unintelligent, or linguistically inferior, especially when they don’t conform to human (and specifically English-speaking) norms.

The portrayal of the talking foxes adds another layer to this critique. These creatures are shown to be technologically advanced—they have specially adapted tools to access the internet, maintain networks with humans for medical care and transportation, and operate with a high degree of autonomy. Yet Peter remarks, “if someone taught them to be spies then their teachers left some major gaps in their vocabulary.” This line, while humorous, undermines the foxes’ intelligence and agency.

Moreover, the foxes’ speech is rendered in a simplified, stylized dialect. They use phrases like “big diggy thing” instead of “boring machine,” which may initially seem charming or whimsical. But this linguistic reduction can also be read as a form of intentional infantilization—a way of making their intelligence appear quaint or incomplete. It’s possible Aaronovitch intended this as a commentary on how the foxes perceive human language, or even as a subversive joke about humans needing things “dumbed down.” But without clear narrative framing, it risks reinforcing the very stereotypes it might be trying to critique.

In effect, the foxes are presented as a paradox: technologically sophisticated, yet linguistically and culturally “othered.” Their dialect becomes a marker of difference, and their intelligence is constantly undercut by the way they are spoken about—and made to speak. This mirrors broader patterns in literature where dialect is used to signal inferiority or exoticism, especially when applied unevenly across characters.

This kind of framing echoes real-world colonial and racial narratives, where language and intelligence have historically been used as tools of dehumanization and domination. When magical beings are denied language—or mocked for their perceived lack of intelligence—it reinforces a hierarchy in which human (and often white, Western) characters are the default standard of intellect and civility.

In a series that otherwise tries to explore multiculturalism and magical diversity, this kind of portrayal feels regressive. It undermines the richness of the magical world by reducing some of its inhabitants to caricatures or comic relief.

Finally, let’s address a few of the larger, overarching tropes including the “Immortal White Wizard.” Thomas Nightingale, born in 1900, is over 120 years old in the Rivers of London timeline. Yet due to magical intervention, he appears to be in his early 40s—an ageless, elegant figure at the peak of his physical and magical power. He is consistently portrayed as the most powerful practitioner, the calm center of magical authority, and the one who saves the day when things spiral out of control.

In contrast, Peter Grant—young, Black, and the series’ protagonist—is often associated with chaos, improvisation, and collateral damage. His investigations are messy, his magic unpredictable, and his victories often come at a cost. While this may reflect a more modern, fallible hero archetype, it also reinforces a troubling dynamic: the older white man as the eternal, infallible guardian, and the younger man of color as the well-meaning but unstable apprentice.

This dynamic is further complicated by the fact that Nightingale’s age is magically concealed, allowing him to retain the visual and narrative authority of a man in his prime, while Peter is constantly reminded of his limitations—by others and by the narrative itself. For example, someone mentions that they “pulled a Peter” in the story. Ouch.

Why does the old white man get to be timeless, powerful, and composed, while the younger Black protagonist is framed as volatile and reactive? This imbalance echoes a long tradition in fantasy literature where wisdom, power, and control are embodied in white, male, often aristocratic figures, while characters of color are positioned as learners, disruptors, or comic relief.

I also saw that the canon namechecking to be rather overbearing and too “insider-y” to be enjoyable. Throughout Stone & Sky, Aaronovitch peppers the narrative with references to iconic figures and franchises—almost all of them white and male:
• Star Trek (Gene Roddenberry)
• Saruman (J.R.R. Tolkien)
• John Connor (Terminator)
• Darth Vader (Star Wars)
• Peter Capaldi (Doctor Who)
• The Lord of the Rings (“One does not simply…”)
• Neil Gaiman, referenced via the phrase “Neil Gaiman black”

These references are often used for humor or shorthand, but cumulatively, they reinforce a very narrow cultural canon—one that centers white male creators and their visions of fantasy, science fiction, and heroism.

This is especially jarring given the book’s attempt to foreground a young Black British girl as a protagonist. Why is Abigail—who is otherwise written with a distinct voice and cultural identity—constantly filtered through the lens of white male geek culture? Why not reference Octavia Butler, N.K. Jemisin, Marjorie Liu, or even Afrofuturist icons like Sun Ra or Janelle Monáe?

Even the reference to “Neil Gaiman black” is problematic— not only because it reduces a complex aesthetic to a single figure, but also because Gaiman himself has faced recent criticism for his public behavior and comments. In a book that already struggles with authenticity in voice and representation, this kind of namechecking feels less like homage and more like cultural defaulting—a reliance on the familiar, rather than an effort to expand the canon or reflect the diversity of its characters.

A quick visit to any online forum or fan site will reveal that many longtime readers have noted that the series has become increasingly formulaic. Each book introduces a magical disturbance, a new creature or system, and a procedural investigation that resolves with a mix of magic and logic. In Stone & Sky, this formula is stretched even thinner. The early chapters focus heavily on a family camping trip, with little narrative urgency or magical intrigue.

While this may be an attempt to deepen character relationships or explore quieter moments, it contributes to a sense of narrative drift. The stakes feel lower, the pacing more meandering, and the once-vibrant magical world increasingly routine. There’s simply too much padding in this book.

One recurring distraction in Stone & Sky is the level of detail devoted to what characters are wearing and how they look—often with commentary that feels judgmental, class-coded, or simply unnecessary. For example, a character named Mason is described in terms that go beyond observation and veer into critique:

“He was a short white man in his early thirties, brown hair, curls on top and short at the sides that didn't really suit a square face with a prominent nose and thin lips. At least his head matched the rest of him - broad shoulders, short legs, but a much better suit than I would have risked wearing to work. Dark brown wool, bought off the shelf, I reckoned, but then tailored. Despite the weather, he wore a lambswool pullover over his shirt.”

Peter is mixed-race, younger and from a working-class background -- why would he be even care if someone’s suit was bought “off the rack” and then tailored? I understand he wouldn’t want to risk wearing expensive clothing to work since he often ends up in situations where his clothing is damaged – but why would that matter in a passing evaluation of another person in a different role?

Descriptions like this don’t just paint a picture—they evaluate the character’s appearance, often through the narrator’s subjective lens and many of these observations come across as mean-spirited or superficial, especially when repeated across multiple characters. These moments rarely advance the plot or deepen character insight. Instead, they feel like narrative padding—a way to fill space rather than build momentum.

This kind of detail might have worked better in a graphic novel, where visual storytelling could convey these elements more efficiently and with more nuance. Given the success of the Rivers of London graphic novels, it’s easy to imagine Stone & Sky functioning more effectively in that format—especially given its visual settings, magical creatures, and dual perspectives.

Final Thoughts: Stone & Sky attempts to expand the emotional and magical scope of the Rivers of London universe, but in doing so, it exposes several representational and structural weaknesses. Queer male characters are emotionally sidelined; a queer teen girl’s feelings are spotlighted with intensity that may not be her own. Magical beings are used as metaphors for social difference, but often in ways that reinforce rather than challenge stereotypes. Linguistic choices—from stylized slang to infantilizing dialect—further complicate the portrayal of identity and intelligence.


The series’ once-fresh formula is beginning to show its seams, and its cultural references remain narrowly focused on white male creators. Even as it strives for diversity, Stone & Sky often defaults to familiar tropes and voices—leaving its most radical possibilities unexplored.

Aaronovitch’s work has always aimed to be inclusive. But inclusion without critical self-awareness can lead to distortion. If Stone & Sky is meant to be a story of queer awakening, magical discovery, and emotional growth, it needs to ask harder questions—about power, about authenticity, and about who gets to tell whose story.

References
Borowska-Szerszun, S. (2021). Ethnic and cultural diversity in Ben Aaronovitch’s urban fantasy cycle Rivers of London. Journal of Contemporary Literature, 12(3), 45–62. Retrieved from https://www.researchgate.net/publication/335318094
Follypedia. (2023). Abigail Kamara. Retrieved from https://follypedia.fandom.com/wiki/Abigail_Kamara
Follypedia. (2023). Thomas Nightingale. Retrieved from https://follypedia.fandom.com/wiki/Thomas_Nightingale

Thank you NetGalley and DAW for the ARC - I am an absolute Rivers of London fanatic and this was a pleasant birthday surprise.
First off, I LOVED that we got to see more from Abigail's perspective. I recently read What Abigail Did Last Summer and was totally ready for more witty, intelligent commentary (and FOXES!).
Don't worry, Peter, Bev and the Nightingale are still a vital part of the story. Aaronovitch does a spectacular job of wounding two (at first) seemingly unrelated plot lines together, keeping me engaged with all sorts of interesting and funny new characters like Blinschell and Ione as well as familar names.
Speaking of Ione, I am a sucker for mermaids and wow 🫣 spoilers are on guys, Abi and Ione are so cute!!
Reading the technical notes and acknowledgments, I am always so impressed with the amount of research and effort Aaronovitch puts into these books. You can definitely tell, with all the specifics about both the local landscape and the oil industry.
Overall, this was a deeply satisfying read for Rivers of London fans. Another great installment in this series, featuring the characteristic witty and nerdy humor and references and a satisfying conclusion. There are a multitude of jumping points for the next book to build on as the gang heads back to London, with Abigail planning to return to visit Ione.

The latest instalment in the Rivers of London series.
I would recommend looking for previous stories to help with character identification.
Detective Sergeant Peter Grant and family are taking a holiday from London travelling up to Scotland.
There are all the usual characters that make this series so entertaining. Peters cousin Abigail takes centre stage with Peter as the story is told from both POV’s.
When a body is found magic a plenty is overwhelming.
Magical creatures and local folklore make this excursion to Scotland well worth this new journey.
You will be well entertained not wanting the journey to end.

I received a free review copy from the publisher in exchange for my honest unedited feedback.

This installment of the Rivers of London features the team of Abigail, Peter, Nightingale, and Dr. Walid in Scotland, along with Beverly, the kids, and Peter's mom and dad trying to make it into a holiday. At least half of the chapters are from Abigail's voice, the others are Peter's. They go up to Scotland to investigate the appearance of an improbable panther and run into some new other-worldly people living among us. And there are lots of foxes. Aaronovitch is a champ at invoking a world filled with magic all around us, if we just open our eyes to see it.

While I appreciated a lot of this book, it did not create the engagement that I usually have with this series and its characters. The alternating voice interrupted the flow. And there was a LOT of language that I didn't understand. Acronyms, slang, British terms, every page. "Prang," "ned," "mandem," "gyaldm," "ting," "Love Island," "NPAS," "Wagwan," "scrotes," "gaff in SW20." I usually like the British slang in Rivers of London, it gives it character, but piling it on, especially in the chapters coming from a teenaged girl was a little "cringe."

Thanks to NetGalley for an advanced copy.

Another delight from BA as the Rivers of London series continues, this time a family holiday in Scotland is the backdrop for supernatural murders.
Peter, Nightingale and Abigail face some very strange and vicious seagulls, mysterious foxes, secret experimental scientists and, of course, the local genii. Loving the developing relationships amongst the team and the inclusion of Scottish mythology. Lots of fantastic winks and nods to Lovecraft and my fave Star Trek characters - The Ferengi. Brilliant, Brilliant, Brilliant!