Mortal Kombat

by Jeff Rovin

  Shang Tsung’s pale cheeks flushed, and his fingers, which were still on the amulet, began to tremble. “You, arrogant little godlet, will provide the soul that brings them here!”

  The wizard’s hands began to smoke, and his eyes fell expectantly to the amulet. The splendid talisman vibrated and shook against his chest, but it was only due to his quaking touch and not because he had tapped its power. The seconds took an eternity to pass as all eyes were upon him and the promised soul-rending did not take place.

  Then the quavering ceased, Shang Tsung’s spindly fingers having fallen still.

  The wizard’s hands stopped smoking.

  His wizened features lost what little life had returned to them.

  And under the uncomprehending eyes of Goro and Reptile, and the blank stares of the devoted denizens of the palace, Shang Tsung, Dark Lord of Shimura Island, Master of the Hooded Hosts, Wizard-Chancellor of Shao Kahn, raised his lusterless eyes from the amulet.

  “It does not work,” Shang Tsung said to Rayden.

  Scorpion said, “We all saw.”

  “Tell me why, Rayden,” Shang Tsung said. “I demand to know why!”

  Suddenly what appeared to be a small, dark, and unusually thick cloud separated from the fog around the island and crawled up the hill. It passed over the courtyard, heads turning as it drifted toward the finial spire of the pagoda and settled on the sloping pent roof below. There, the foggy mass separated into two sections, one of which began to take human form and remained on the roof, while the other rushed toward the ground.

  The shape on the roof solidified, the lumpy gray contours giving way to smooth flesh and a white robe.

  “It didn’t work because you are a fiend who serves an even greater fiend,” shouted Kung Lao, his robe blowing in the wind.

  “The priest!” Goro shouted. “How is it possible?”

  “Dualities,” Kung Lao said. He pointed to Shang Tsung. “His magic showed me how. Fengah mysticism provided the ingredients, and lightning torn from the ceiling at the Temple of Rayden gave me the means to mix them.”

  Landing on the ground and reconforming behind Shang Tsung, Liu Kang said, “We recreated what you did, magician, though not for evil.”

  The White Lotus warrior leapt up to jump-punch the startled sorcerer, but Goro stepped between them. He blocked the blow with one of his thick arms and, swinging his giant form into a roundhouse kick, caught Liu Kang in the leg. The mortal dropped to the ground, rolled away, and got to his feet before the giant could stomp on him.

  Above them, Kung Lao lowered himself onto the balcony below the roof and swung feet-first through an open window of the pagoda, while Scorpion ran through the break in the ranks of Shang Tsung’s hooded hordes. As Scorpion executed a high leaping split to avoid it, then continued running toward his comrade.

  With an oath, Shang Tsung ordered his minions to attack Rayden. Then the wizard turned and, with another oath, pulled Kano with him and ran toward the shrine.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  “Ruthay!” Shang Tsung was screaming as he hobbled through the twisting corridors to the shrine of Shao Kahn.

  Hooded monks from the temple milled around aimlessly, and Baraka was nowhere to be seen. But the wizard couldn’t worry about that now. No doubt his loyal priest had been drawn outside by the commotion.

  “Ruthay!” the sorcerer cried, after uttering the chant to unbolt the doors. “Something has gone very wrong!”

  “I’ll say,” Kano muttered as Shang Tsung gripped his arm for support. “I got a feelin’ I’ll be lucky to get the rest of my dough, let alone a chance to disembowel that fat lug who threw me against the wall.”

  The wizard ignored him as he moved through the darkness with desperate haste, crying for Shao Kahn’s regent, hoping that the demon could help where, inexplicably, his own magic had failed.

  Shang Tsung entered the chamber. “Ruthay, I need your help,” he said, hurrying toward the circle so his dwindling body heat could animate the flame and the demon. “I’m too weak, my spirit drained. You must add your power to mine so that the amulet can be activated.”

  The brazier flared dully, sparkles of burning coal dust filling the air above it. The orange glow grew, and as it did the wizard stopped. Though his eyes were not yet adjusted to the dim light, he sensed at once that something was wrong. There was a strange agitation coming from the area around the brazier, a disquiet that caused the air itself to ripple with a curious mixture of heat and cold.

  Shang Tsung’s gaze went from the flame in the iron dish to the powdery circle on the floor, and he saw at once what was wrong.

  There was a break in the circle, a slash no wider than a human foot. But that would have been enough to jeopardize the spell, not only weakening Shang Tsung’s contact with the Outworlder but endangering all the other-realm beings on this plane. If any more of it were destroyed–

  Shang Tsung’s eyes wandered round the circle and settled on a sight that caused his heart to ache. Ruthay was no longer a mad, amber ring floating above the circle; the rift in the circle had caused the once-portly, parchment-skinned demon-regent to coalesce into a mockery of his natural form.

  Lying in the dark at the foot of the brazier was a creature whose skin was white with brown patches, who was stretched and malformed from having spent fifteen centuries as a prisoner of the ring. He now had a narrow, lengthened torso, a muzzle-like elongation where his face had been, and legs and arms that were of nearly equal length and ended in pawlike appendages rather than hands and feet. His once-white eyes were a seep, sad brown, and his red robe was in tatters and hung from him like a tail.

  Shang Tsung lurched forward. “Ruthay!”

  “Sh-Shang,” barked the demon. “I could do nothing. I… tried to… call you….”

  “Who has done this?” the sorcerer gasped, stepping over the circle and bending beside the strange and pitiful sight. “Tell me!”

  “Master… Shang,” the demon whimpered as Shang Tsung stroked his sloping forehead, “it… it….”

  “It was me,” said a figure standing in the shadows. “Me and my left foot.”

  Shang Tsung fired a look toward the corner and strained to see in the darkness. “I know that voice,” he said through his teeth, his voice quivering with anger. “Come out and face me, witch!”

  Sonya Blade swaggered from the darkness and smiled. The underlighting accentuated her expression, making it seem almost demonic.

  “Did I upset your plan, guys?” she asked.

  “Only delayed them,” Shang Tsung said defiantly.

  “Maybe,” Sonya said, “but one thing’s for certain.” She held out her right fist, opened it palm up, and blew. “You need a new mascot,” she said as feathers floated to the ground.

  “Hamachi!” Shang Tsung screamed. His mouth and eyes wide with horror, he hissed, “Sonya Blade – I will see you pulled apart by wild Kuatanese Troopyns, your remains fed to my other birds.”

  “No ya won’t,” Kano snarled. “She ain’t gonna live that long.”

  His hands slashing violent uppercuts at the air, Kano knee-kicked several times before rushing at Sonya, a war cry on his twisted lips and death in his eyes.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Kung Lao found the pagoda deserted, all the servants of darkness having been summoned to the courtyard or, he saw as he exited the tower, to what looked like an interrupted ceremony in the temple.

  Not that it mattered. He would have fought them all to reach his goal.

  But the cloaked and hooded things ignored him as he pushed through, heading to where he sensed he’d find his ancestor’s amulet. The crowd thinned as he picked his way through the twisting hallway, where corners that had seemed from a distance to have angles were smooth curves when he arrived, and floors that seemed to slope down actually sloped up.

  This place is like a nightmare made real, Kung Lao thought, the sick geometry reflecting the corruption of its master.

  The corridor grew darker and
darker, and then Kung Lao saw a faint light through an open door up ahead. He approached slowly, listening to what sounded like a low, desperate panting among the grunts and blows of combat.

  Peeking in, Kung Lao first saw the kneeling wizard looking at a small, impish monster whose head was in his lap. Beyond them, the Order of Light priest saw Kano fighting with the woman who had been part of his band of cutthroats. The young woman was attacking with a ferocity that surprised Kung Lao, and apparently Kano as well: the criminal had been backed against a wall and was on the defensive as she battered him with high punch, uppercut, and jumping knee combinations that kept him completely off-balance. Kung Lao couldn’t imagine what would have turned her against her leader, but Kano’s desperation was evident in the absence of the glib talk that was characteristic of the man.

  Kung Lao’s gaze turned back to Shang Tsung as he stepped into the doorway.

  Shang Tsung glanced over. “Now my day is complete,” he said, his nose crinkling, tone bitter. “I expected you, Kung Lao, to come and profane this room with your sanctity. You stink of it.”

  “I only want the amulet, Shang Tsung,” he said.

  “Is that all?”

  “You’ve been defeated,” said the priest. “I have no desire to destroy you.”

  “No desire?” Shang Tsung snickered. “Rubbish. It’s just buried beneath gooey layers of piety. Well, I won’t surrender the amulet, Kung Lao. If you want it, you’ll have to come and take it.” Wicked life still flickered in his eyes. “Let’s see if you’re as charitable as you pretend to be.”

  “Don’t go near him!” Sonya Blade yelled. “The door between the worlds is still open and that demon’s still breathing! Shang’s not out of it yet!”

  The priest approached slowly. “What is wrong with the creature?”

  “Despite Ms. Blade’s optimistic proclamation,” Shang Tsung said, “the demon is dying. That woman, that stupid American agent with her big American feet, breached the enchanted circle and broke the lifeline between Ruthay and the Outworld. I haven’t the strength to restore it.”

  “I’m sorry,” Kung Lao said.

  “We’re touched,” Shang Tsung replied.

  “I don’t like to see any life end,” said the priest, “even a life that has been devoted to evil. There is always a chance for redemption.”

  Shang Tsung snickered as he watched Kano try vainly to regain the offensive. But after Sonya Blade parried two of Kano’s desperate high kicks, she moved in with a sweep that threw the criminal back against the wall. She followed it with an air-kick to the jaw that sent teeth and blood flying.

  “If it pains you so much,” Shang Tsung said, “why not help him? Use the amulet to reopen the lifeline.”

  Kung Lao stopped outside the circle. “All right,” he said.

  “Don’t!” Sonya cried. She redoubled her efforts to defeat Kano, throwing a scissor-lock around his waist and bringing him down. While she drove the side of her hand repeatedly against his nose, she screamed, “If you reopen the portal, who knows what’ll come out!”

  “She’s an alarmist,” Shang Tsung said, his brows dipping. “Don’t taunt me, priest. If you can help, do so quickly. Ruthay will not cling to life much longer.”

  “No!” Sonya yelled. She left Kano still conscious and raced toward the circle. “You don’t know what you’re doing! Shao Kahn needs just one more soul–”

  “I am aware of Shao Kahn’s needs,” said the priest. He held up one hand toward Sonya, and held out another toward the wizard. “Give me the amulet and I’ll send the demon back,” Kung Lao said to Shang Tsung. “You have my word.”

  Sonya ran into the circle, breaking more of it and sending a tremor through Ruthay.

  “Masssssterrrr…” The dying regent shuddered.

  Kung Lao glared at Sonya. “Come no further,” he said. “If you’re on the side of good, you have nothing to fear.”

  “Bull!” she said. “My fiancé was on the side of good, and now he’s on the inside of a brass box.”

  “Only his body,” said Kung Lao, “not his soul.” He looked back at Shang Tsung. “The amulet?”

  The wizard bowed his head toward the priest, though his eyes never left him.

  “Priest,” said Sonya, drawing out her knives and approaching, “this is a really, truly idiotic thing to–”

  A flying kick knocked her into the brazier, which rattled but didn’t fall. Kano followed it with a crouch-kick to her chin.

  “I really hate the sounda yer voice,” he said through bloody lips.

  When Sonya tried to rise, Kano tucked his arms and head into his chest and leapt at her, pulling in his legs for a savage cannonball blow. The two of them went flying across the room, where they grappled in the dark.

  Kung Lao looked back down at the wizard, then reached for the strap. He removed the amulet from Shang Tsung’s neck and put it around his own.

  “I can only reach into the white Aura of the Order of Light,” said Kung Lao. “The black Aura of Death and the red Aura of the Outworld are not known to me. What are the words you use?”

  “Before I tell you, you must repair the circle,” Shang Tsung said.

  Walking to the breaks, Kung Lao bent beside them in turn. “It is done,” he said.

  Shang Tsung didn’t even bother to suppress a smile as he said, “The words you must use are:”

  To the land beyond, beyond, I wish to go,

  From the dismal world of this and now.

  To the timeless realm where chaos is order,

  Where darkness is light and demons dwell.

  Open your arms, Lord of the nether-reaches

  To embrace your subject. Hear my prayer.”

  Accustomed to study and repetition, Kung Lao shut his eyes, bowed his head, folded his hands above the amulet, and made his silent recitation.

  When he was finished, flames erupted from the brazier, rising high and crawling outward like the cap of a mushroom.

  “The sea of fire, Ruthay!” Shang Tsung cried as the fire spread overhead. “The fool has done it! Kano, finish the woman off! Let hers be the soul that brings forth Shao Kahn!”

  But as the wizard dropped Ruthay’s head to the floor and climbed to his feet, the flames changed… and so did his expression.

  CHAPTER FOURTY

  In the courtyard, chaos flourished as a god and Outworld demons, ghosts, the shells of the dead, Salinas – mutant-ape foot soldiers – and mortals battled for control of the day.

  While Liu Kang and Scorpion concentrated on Reptile and Goro, Rayden flung lightning at the countless retainers of the palace and temple, creatures who had no soul and had to be blasted to still-throbbing chunks of dead but moving flesh, or Salinas whose capacity for punishment was both awesome and brutal. The white-and-black-garbed creatures kept charging Rayden, despite the loss of limbs and large slabs of sinew, and the Thunder God would regularly teleport to a different spot in the courtyard or on the pagodas to resume his assault.

  And then all the monsters of the Outworld, as well as Shang Tsung’s dead servants from this world, stopped fighting. As one, they turned in the direction of the shrine.

  “What’s happening?” Liu Kang asked Scorpion as the seemingly unstoppable Goro and Reptile stopped fighting and looked toward the palace.

  “I don’t know,” Scorpion said.

  “Maybe someone’s coming–” Liu Kang suggested.

  “–or going. Do you feel that?”

  Liu Kang stood still for a moment. “You mean, like a pulling sensation?”

  “Yes,” said Scorpion.

  A moment later, the smallest of the Salinas began sliding toward the palace, as though the courtyard had tilted and they were being spilled in that direction. They yowled as they clutched their long desperately at trees and at their larger neighbors, their long toenails clawing frantically at the ground. Something was definitely pulling them… and, a few moments later, their larger companions began scudding toward the palace as well.

 
; Even Reptile and Goro felt the tug.

  “Something has happened to the portal,” Goro said as a Salina skidded past him. The poor creature picked up speed and slammed into the wall of the palace, followed by other creatures who landed on top of him or crashed through windows and were swallowed by the darkness inside. Soon the wall itself gave way, and the Outworlders piled upon it sailed inward.

  Goro turned so he was facing the palace and then leaned back, pushed his elephantine heels into the tiles of the courtyard. Despite his weight leaning in the opposite direction, and the strength in his heels, he, too, was drawn toward the strange force that affected all but Liu Kang, Scorpion, and Rayden.

  As Reptile was pulled off his feet and dragged toward the gaping hole in the palace wall, Liu Kang shielded his eyes from the sun and looked for Rayden.

  “Thunder God!” he shouted when he saw the deity standing by the gate, creatures flying away from him. “What is happening?”

  The Thunder God’s eyes were changing from white to gold. “Something has turned Shang Tsung’s magic against him,” he said. “The portal is closing, and taking its evil spawn with it.”

  “What could have caused that?” Liu Kang asked just as one of Goro’s massive hands latched on to his leg, flipped him on his face, and began dragging him faster and faster toward the break in the wall.

  CHAPTER FOURTY-ONE

  As soon as the flames in the brazier had reached the ceiling, with its decorations of demented constellations seen in the skies over the Outworld, the column poured back in on itself with a deafening rush, snuffing the fire. The embers in the air around the brazier imploded as the air itself poured inward, as though drawn into the mouth of a huge funnel. Soon the entire circle was alive with tumult as the air spun round and round.

  Kung Lao stepped from the circle and stood by the doorway. Kano and Sonya Blade stopped fighting and Shang Tsung also left the circle, all four watching as Ruthay wiggled, began inching across the floor on his back, and finally was sucked into the vortex so quickly that he left a brown-and-white trail in the air behind him.