in surprise, a decent amount of it sounding unhappy.
Prax probably bet against him. Rann snorted at that thought as he realized the truth behind it. There was more than just Prax’s recent actions to contribute to the bad blood between them, but none of that mattered just then.
Fel slipped under one of Rann’s blows and fired off a bolt of lightning which seared Rann’s side, flinging him back across the room. Rann bounced once and flipped himself to his feet before ducking the next blast.
A spinning, whirling disc of fire leapt out from Rann’s forearm as he brought his left arm across, the shield intensifying to the point it all but tore apart the next lightning bolt before it reached him. Then, Rann dropped his right arm and flame congealed in his grip, sprouting out in a blade three feet long of pure fire.
It was a primitive technique, in that dragons of old had used the weapons, but it was just as effective in the modern age as well.
Rann howled a battle cry and charged forward, once more catching Fel off guard. The younger shifter kept expecting some sort of trickery and deceit. He ducked and dodged the swift flicks of the fiery blade.
Then lightning coiled in his hands and sprang like a snake, looping around Rann’s fire blade. Fel snarled and yanked. Rann had one option only. He let the fire dissipate, lest the pull from his opponent send him hurtling across the floor into the nearest wall.
The sudden absence of resistance startled Fel. That was a tricky move. Most dragons would have held on, loathe to let their weapons disappear in the midst of a fight. But Rann had learned that move from a wily old storm dragon many years earlier, and he used it to full effect now.
Fel stumbled backward, recovering just in time to get a faceful of Rann’s fire-shield. Rann had flung the disc at his opponent and then come in after it, shielding his approach behind the flaming circle.
Rann dropped into a slide and ended the fight by grabbing Fel’s ankle to gain leverage and driving his upper leg clear through the other shifter’s fibula, forcing it backward. Bone snapped, and the other shifter howled in agony.
Rann wasn’t done. He spun while crouched and took out Fel’s other leg, dropping the man on his ass where Rann scrambled around and locked an arm under his chin before Fel could recover.
“Yield,” he growled, hoping the younger shifter would realize the fight was over and he couldn’t possibly win.
“Fuck,” Fel shouted, but his open palm smacked against the ground three times.
Immediately, Rann let go. Fel slumped into a prone position, a minor whimper of pain escaping his lips. The pair made eye contact as Rann moved to his side, but the older shifter acted like he hadn’t heard a thing.
“Grip here,” he said, pointing to just below Fel’s knee. “Grab and hold tight.”
“What are you doing?” Fel asked, though he did as he was told.
“Setting the bone so that it heals faster, what do you think?” Rann said.
“Why?”
“Because it needs to be done, and the faster it is, the better. Come on, you know that.”
Fel started to reply, but Rann used that moment to pull and twist slightly, setting the bone back in place. Fel’s face went white with pain, and he curled fingers into a fist then slammed it into the ground, cracking the bare rock.
“Ow,” he said half a minute later, finally exhaling. “Damn, that hurts.”
“You’ll be okay now,” Rann said. “It’s just a leg. You have another one.”
Fel glared at him, but there was reluctant humor behind his eyes.
“Come on, get up lazy bones,” Rann said, rising from his crouch and extending a hand to Fel. “Let me help you back to your changing room.”
“Thanks,” Fel said with sincere gratefulness as he rose to his feet—well, foot—with little more than a hiss of pain. “I’ll survive. Gonna make driving a pain though.”
“So don’t drive?” Rann said as they headed toward the changing rooms.
“Gotta. Have to make a delivery later. Gonna have to bribe someone to help offload as well, cause I won’t be doing that,” Fel said regretfully.
“Delivery? To where? I didn’t know we had any truck drivers among us.”
Fel smiled. “I’m not. Not really. But it’s my turn to pick up the truck from the train station and take it out to the Balance the Scales tent. You know, the charity handing out stuff to all the dragon lovers living in tent-cities