They left with the map and my vest, leaving us alone in the tent with Lazlo.
“Your father’s a coward and a criminal, Lazlo Nackley,” Sukey spat at him. “He’s going to hear from my mother’s lawyers when we get out of here.”
Lazlo studied her for a minute and then he pulled a chair up in front of me and straddled it so he was facing me, his eyes only six or seven inches from my glasses. I could see every detail of his face: the freckles that spread out over his nose and a big, red, angry-looking pimple just under his chin.
“Did you really think they wouldn’t find the map?” he asked after a minute. “Did you really think you could hide it in your vest?”
I didn’t say anything and my silence seemed to make him mad. “We’re going to find the treasure,” he said. “We’re going to find it and the reporters are going to call it ‘the Lazlo Nackley Treasure.’ I’ll be famous. They’ll name the new Mountaineering Club clubhouse after me. Neville here knows what that is since she goes to the Academy.”
We ignored him. I tested the strength of the rope that was holding my hands and feet to see if it was looser now. I could hear Zander and Sukey and M.K. trying to pull out of their constraints, too.
Lazlo watched us. “What, you think you’re going to escape and go find the treasure yourself? BNDL would never allow that. They think this treasure is one of the most important ones in the New Lands. Do you know how much it’s worth?”
“You think they’ll let you have any of the money, Lazlo?” Sukey asked him. “Think again.”
“They want my father and me to find it and we’re going to. And they don’t care what happens to you.”
“We’re just kids,” I told him. “What are they going to do to us?”
He laughed. “They don’t care how old you are. All they care about is making sure the treasure doesn’t fall into the wrong hands. You don’t know what they can do.”
“So they’re going to keep us locked up until you and your father find the treasure?”
“Pretty much.”
“Well, we don’t know anything,” Zander told him. “That’s the truth. They found the map, so they can let us go.”
“They won’t do that,” Lazlo said. “You don’t know these—” Suddenly, there was a whoosh and the beating of wings and a black form sailed in the open door.
“Pucci!” said M.K. He had gotten the leather booties off and his metal talons gleamed. He gave a low squawk. I heard something hit the ground and then the parrot went for Lazlo’s face, beating his wings, threatening him with the metal talons.
“Aaaaaaaaaa!” Lazlo hollered. “Get it off me!” He was waving his arms around wildly, which was just making Pucci beat his wings harder.
“Be quiet, Lazlo,” Zander said in a low voice. “Or I’ll let him use his feet on you. You know what they did to the faces of protesters in Fazia, don’t you?”
Terrified, Lazlo stopped yelling.
“He brought my pistol,” Sukey whispered. “But I can’t get my hands free. Unless Wonderbird here has opposable thumbs, we’re still tied up.”
“Actually,” M.K. said, standing up and shaking her hands free of the rope, the edges frayed where she’d been rubbing it against the chair, “you’re still tied up. But not for long.”