“My real battle was never with you,” I told him. “It was you who helped me see that. My real battle was with the version of me who was afraid of herself. My real battle was with the version of me who let people like you make her feel small and weak. And, as you can see, I’ve already won that battle.”

And then, with the immense satisfaction of having had the last word, I drew myself a new door, slipped through, and sealed it shut behind me.

30

I ran. I had to get out. To be absolutely sure that no one would ever let Mahishasura out of his prison, I’d left all those cracks in the walls and the floors. The palace was about to come crashing down.

“Faster,” the palace whispered, as I sprinted across the ballroom.

There was a rumble like thunder behind me as the earth itself quaked. I didn’t look back. I pushed my way across the maze as trees and hedges parted seconds before I reached them. I ducked under the arches at the front of the palace, avoided the falling columns, and ran down the overgrown thorny path until I got to the gates.

Out of breath and holding on to one of the gates to keep myself upright, I turned back. There was a final crack and the palace collapsed like a house of cards. Dust exploded outward, columns snapped, towers crumbled, and I covered my ears to try to block out the cataclysmic roar.

When the dust settled, I saw that the palace had not been destroyed—it had been transformed! The marble and stone had reshaped themselves into a single tall column. One dome remained and now sat at the very top, a new perch for the gandaberunda to keep watch over Mysore. The palace had gone, but in its place was a monument. It was the color of honey and sunsets, and it marked the place where Mahishasura was buried forever.

“You’re still here,” I whispered. “You’re still you.”

And the palace didn’t answer back, but I could have sworn I felt something brush my cheek, like a loving grandma saying goodbye.

I couldn’t move for several minutes. My heart was still pounding so fiercely that I couldn’t stop trembling. I couldn’t quite believe what I had done.

My plan had worked.

I had beaten Mahishasura.

I had saved my golden kingdom.

As silence crept over the now empty grounds and the minutes passed, I became aware of sounds and movement in the nooks and shadows of the city around me. Whispered voices, cautious footsteps.

One by one, people crept out of the streets and took tentative steps onto the grounds. Their faces were all turned toward the monument, their mouths open with awe and their eyes wide with fear, shock, and something that looked a lot like hope. Then, slowly, all those eyes turned to me.

One woman took a shaky step forward. “Did you do that?”