It seemed like forever before I felt my feet slam into solid ground again. The Asura gave me a rough shake before letting me go and I immediately fell forward to my knees. I opened my eyes, nauseated and temporarily blinded by the light, and staggered to my feet.

I looked up at Lalith Mahal and gulped noisily.

“Move,” the Asura behind me growled. “You’re expected inside.”

“Where’s Pip?”

“Move.”

She gave me a hard push. I jerked away and started walking. We were on a wide, long driveway, paved white and flanked by leering gargoyles carved out of ruby. Other Asuras slipped out from behind the gargoyles and came to watch me with malevolent, glittering eyes.

What had I done? If I had just stayed put like I was told to, none of this would have happened. If I had any control over my own brain, none of this would have happened. As I took one step after another toward the demon king’s fortress, I had never felt more furious with myself. What if Pip was hurt? It would be all my fault.

Lalith Mahal was beautiful. It was wide rather than tall, and almost all white, with a handful of gold balconies and large, imposing doors the color of apricots. Pure-white columns lined the front and a vast white dome crowned the top of the palace. I had drawn it almost exactly like the one in the real Mysore, at least on the outside.

White steps led from the drive up to an arch. I climbed the steps reluctantly, painfully aware of the hot, raspy breath of the demon behind me.

On the other side was a courtyard, sheltered by an enormous banyan tree. As we entered, I noticed something on the far side. Blackened wood, and what looked like burned cloth.

My desk and curtains!

Mahishasura had them. But then why hadn’t he used them? He had to know about the locator spell—why else would he bring some broken, tattered, ruined objects to his fortress? So why hadn’t the Asuras come for me sooner? Had the Good Witch refused to perform the spell?

With an impatient grunt, the Asura grasped me by the back of my neck and forced me to move faster. We crossed the courtyard and stepped into one of the enormous rooms beyond. I tried to wriggle out of the Asura’s grip (without poking her armpit and making her even crosser), but she held fast and pushed me across the room and into another. It was cool inside, out of the hot sun, and almost obnoxiously luxurious.

Then I started to notice little things that warped the beautiful picture. There were blank spaces on the walls where paintings of the old kings, queens, and princesses had been torn down, claw marks across the handwoven tapestries, and the faint, creepy smell of meat that had gone bad.

I didn’t see Pip. Where was he? What had they done with him?

“This way,” growled the Asura.