Henry had seemed so nice. Henry, Avi considered, had seemed like the kind of guy who could be stopped by neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night in his mission to be an all-round nice guy. To coin a phrase.

As Henry slammed his hand down on the cold stone floor of the tower, Avi wondered whether this was Henry at all. It wouldn't, after all, be the first time she'd met somebody who'd been taken over by a malevolent entity.

But no, she thought, as light and lightning overcame his figure, this was Henry, alright.

A nice guy who couldn't be stopped.