Villain's Lair by Wendelin Van Draanen Read Free Book Online Page A

dragon’s killing arena, and I’m afraid it can only be explained this way:
    They were, indeed,
bobos
banditos.
    Idiotas!
    Estúpidos!
    You see, to the Bandito Brothers, it did not seem like such a risk.
    It seemed wise.
    Wily.
    Smart!
    After all, the dragon was occupied with the boy. All they had to do was sneak around them and overpower Damien Black in the den.
    For fearsome bandits such as themselves, it would be easy!
    And their plan might actually have worked, except for one thing:
    They stank!
    Especially Pablo.
    You see, to a Komodo dragon, stinky means yummy. And the sudden presence of the Bandito Brothers caused the dragon’s foot-long, forked, and yellow tongue great confusion. Ahead of him was dinner, but to the side of him? Wow, did that smell good!
    â€œUh-oh,” Pablo said as the dragon changed direction.
    â€œNot good,” Angelo agreed.
    â€œWhoa! He’s cool!” Tito giggled, taking a step toward the dragon.

    â€œYou idiot!” Angelo said, grabbing him.
    But Pablo nudged Angelo and gave him a little signal that meant, Let the dragon have him.
    Ah, what a coldhearted, backstabbing, double-crossing, rat-faced bandito he was.
    Meanwhile, Dave was hatching a plan of his own. He stood with his back flat against the wall by the den’s opening and shouted, “Angelo! Hurry up! We must kill Mr. Black and feed him to the dragon!” Then he changed his voice and called, “I’m coming, Pablo! I’m coming!”
    â€œHuh?” Angelo said, staring at Dave.
    â€œHe knows our names?” Pablo gasped. “How does he know our names?”
    And then
whoosh
, out of the dragon’s den came Damien Black. “You!” he said, his dark and dangerous eyes drilling into the Bandito Brothers. “How did you get away?”
    Angelo and Pablo pointed to the place where Dave had been standing, but Dave was no longerthere. The instant Damien Black had whooshed out of the den, Dave had whooshed
into
the den.
    And that’s where he now was, whispering hoarsely, “Sticky? Sticky, where are you?”
    But Sticky was no longer in the dragon’s den. He was in Damien’s coat pocket trying frantically to lift the satchel of power ingots that Damien had removed from the treasure chest in the den. He strained and heaved mightily. If he could just get the bag … up. If he could just get it…out…
    But then he realized that something was terribly wrong. Damien was moving fast. Shouting. Whooshing all over the place!
    He stuck his little gecko head up and couldn’t help gasping “Ay
caramba!”
when he saw the chaos in the pit. The dragon was stalking Tito. Damien was chasing Pablo and Angelo.
    Sticky looked around quickly.
    Where was Dave?
    He let out a little breath of relief—at least he wasn’t in the pit.
    But then he saw him, standing in the shadows of the dragon’s den.
    Ay-ay-ay. Why didn’t humans ever listen?
    But what could be done now? They were both in the pit and they had to get out. So Sticky waved with one hand. He waved with two. He tried desperately to get Dave’s attention as Damien whooshed around the pit.
    When Dave did at last see him, the boy could not believe his eyes.
    Why was Sticky in that madman’s pocket?
    Had he switched back over to the demented side?
    Was he waving
Adiós
, sucker?
    Then Sticky disappeared into the coat pocket, and with a mighty gecko groan, he lifted the satchel of power ingots high enough for Dave to see.
    In a flash of understanding, Dave pointed to his arm where the powerband was clamped and looked at Sticky questioningly.
    Sticky’s head bobbed up and down, and his meaning was clear:
SÍ, SEÑOR!
Why else would I be whooshing around a dragon pit in a madman’s pocket?
    Dave laughed with relief, but the relief was short-lived.
    What was he supposed to do now?
    Perhaps an older, wiser person would have been able to stand back in the shadows of a