Two Renegade Realms (Realm Walkers Book 2) by Donita K. Paul Page B

the edge, he looked back just as Bridger and Neekoh passed under the arch.
    Relieved, Cantor turned and raised his hand to shield his eyes as he surveyed the vast, lush valley before them.
    Green trees crowded most of the view. In spotted areas, massive blooms in bright colors stood out clearly against the dark, verdant backdrop. Rivers and streams crisscrossed the terrain. An outcropping of rock poked through the tree line, looking organized enough to be the remnants of a building. The cliffs on the opposite side had a similar appearance.
    “There it is.” Neekoh spread his arms out, indicating the view before them. “It’s called Bright Valley, and it’s the resting place of Chomountain.”
    Cantor grunted. “Don’t you mean the prison of Chomountain?”
    “It’s never looked prisonish to me.”
    “It looks vast and full of hiding places to me,” said Bridger. “It’ll take days to cover all that territory. But I suppose you’re going to say again that you just know he’s here but you don’t know where.”
    Neekoh looked as cheerful as Bridger looked grumpy. He nodded. “You’re exactly right. I say, you’re clever. I’ve never known a dragon before, but I didn’t expect one to be so smart.”
    The young man looked back and forth between Bridger and Cantor. “Let’s make camp. I like sleeping out under the stars, and even though I could, I don’t. I know how to make a good fire too, and how to cook. It will be fun to camp with friends rather than all by myself.”
    Cantor nodded, then pointed to the towers of rock. “Whatdo you know about that, Neekoh? Is it a ruined palace, a temple, a fortress, or just rocks?”
    Neekoh shrugged. “We’ll have to go see. I’ve never been past the tunnel entrance.”
    Bridger led the way down the sloping valley wall. No trail guided them on their descent, rather the dragon slashed at the heavy underbrush and cleared a path.
    Once Cantor’s eyes grew accustomed to the bright light and the endless shades of green that confronted them, he discerned patches of meadowland, acres of bushes, and different varieties of trees. Some foliage clustered with like kind. Others mixed with a wide assortment of plant life.
    Bridger stopped at the first clearing on level ground. Neekoh and Cantor freed Bixby and Dukmee and laid them on the thick, soft grass. Cantor gently shook them each in turn, trying to rouse some kind of response, but in vain.
    Neekoh hovered behind Cantor. “What do you think is wrong with them? Why aren’t you asleep? You look like them.”
    His suspicions that Bixby and Dukmee were cut of the same cloth seemed validated. Bixby, with her remarkable talents, and Dukmee, with his different roles in life, excelled at many tasks. In the ancient times, beings existed with unimaginable gifts. The strain had died out, but occasionally a “throw-back” would surface. He knew Bixby’s mother had astounded her generation with her abilities, and Bixby had surpassed her mother.
    How much should he share with Neekoh? He still didn’t trust the young man. “If the toombalians are real and made an effort to end our journey across the lake, then their efforts only partially succeeded. I suspect there’s something in Dukmee and Bixby’s bodies that makes them susceptible. Like somepeople are allergic to a particular food. Or those people who always catch a cold twice a year while others never get sick.”
    Neekoh rubbed his hands together, a happy gleam in his eye. Obviously, sticky little problems were not as exciting as tackling a monumental search. He grinned at Cantor. “I’ll scout the immediate area.”
    Before Cantor could respond, Neekoh had taken off into the thick woods.
    Bridger lumbered back into the clearing, carrying an armload of sticks. “I’m thinking that the temperature will drop once the sun goes down behind the rim of the valley. What kind of geological formation do you think this is? It’s so much like a bowl, I first thought it might be