Mortal Kombat (18 page)

"'That while sitting still, they can see into all eight points of the world and even to things under the ground. That in a dark room, or on the blackest night, they are their own light.'"

Kung Lao bowed his head lower. Scrunching his mouth with disgust, Liu Kang did likewise.

"I still don't get this," he said. "Rayden left without us, to protect you from harm. Why would he help now – and how?"

The skies began to grumble, and Liu Kang's eyes shifted from side to side.

"It comes," said Kung Lao.

"What does?"

"The key."

Liu Kang said impatiently, "The key to
what
?"

"The transformation," Kung Lao said as the altar and then the walls began to shake, the floor began to crawl, and finally the frozen lightning of the temple ceiling began to sparkle and pop before exploding, drowning out the words in Fengah spoken by Kung Lao....

Upon arriving at the palace with Shang Tsung, Sonya found herself gripped tightly by countless pairs of hands. Some of the hands were pale, some of them monstrous, but all of them were strong, and they'd lifted her from the ground before she was able to defend herself. Though she made no sound, neither screamed nor swore, hands were clapped on her mouth, piled four thick so that she couldn't even move her head.

The owners of the hands all wore hoods, and she noticed that the ones who had the ivory-white human hands had black cloaks and seemed to move in slow motion without actually moving slowly, while the hands in white cloaks moved normally though their flesh was amber and cracked, like the floor of the driest basin in the hottest desert. Whichever type they were, the hands squeezed so tightly they hurt, and the reek of the bodies was overpowering – some smelling like damp earth, some like spoiled milk, none of them any good.

She heard Shang Tsung say, "Take her to the altar of Shao Kahn," and then the crowd of mysterious beings pressed in so close around her that all she could hear after that was the rustle of their cloaks and limbs and the thudding of her own heart.

But Sonya couldn't get away. As the vile horde carried her through the palace toward a wide doorway in the back, she was still too weak even to struggle, drained and disoriented by her journey through the red aura that separated the Outworld from the Mother Realm, the barrier that had to be breached to move from one world to the other. By simply casting a spell and passing inside of it, one could cover great distances in either realm in a heartbeat – though the trip itself was as bludgeoning as a fast ride up a long waterfall.

After a quick passage through the cool morning air, which provided a short but welcome respite from the stench of the creatures that held her, Sonya saw that she was being carried into a towering pagoda. Once through its golden doors, she was taken through an archway that was shaped in the outline of what looked like a horned, somewhat human head – the likeness of Shao Kahn, she imagined.

From the corner of her eyes, Sony saw a line of cloaked and hooded beings on either side, all of them holding lanterns. Behind them, barely illuminated by the light, were delicately painted murals, all in red, showing forests of flame and frenzied figures, some of them human, some of them bizarre hybrids – men with reptilian heads, women with the heads of fox and deer, children with bat wings.

And then she saw the bodies of her former traveling companions, Michael Schneider and Jim Woo. They were lying faceup and shirtless on stone slabs. There were ragged holes in their chests, above their hearts; hooded figures were standing beside them, with sticks poked into the openings. And as Sonya watched them remove the sticks and turn to an unfinished mural, she was sickened as she realized the truth: the sticks were brushes and the murals weren't rendered in red paint. They were drawn in blood.

Sonya had no intention of dying for anyone's art, and as she neared a crowd of figures gathered around an empty stone slab at the front of the shrine, she began to wriggle and kick with a fresh sense of purpose. But the hands held her too tightly, and she could do nothing but watch as they bore her toward a figure in a red robe.

The creature did not wear a hood, and as she neared and saw its face, she couldn't help but wonder why
not
. It was ugly, this bald thing, with pointed ears, slanted white eyes beneath devilish eyebrows, small diagonal slits for nostrils, and a mouth that was filled with long, sharp, widely spaced metal spikes for teeth. The mouth comprised the entire lower half of the creature's face, and followed the jawline in such a way that the thing appeared to have a perpetual grin. But there was no laughter in that nasty mouth or in the evil slope of the eyes.

The otherwise human figure looked up and raised its arms. As the sleeves of its robe slid back along its thickly muscled arms, Sonya noticed that the creature's amber flesh was like that of her white-robed captors – though this being had long, thin steel blades that seemed to grow from the back of its forearms. The figure crossed the blades, which touched with a delicate
ping
, and then he looked at Sonya.

"Bring him forth," he said in a gurgling voice that sounded like it came from a Walkman she'd once dropped in a pool.

"Yes, Priest Baraka," said another gurgling voice in a white hood.

Bring
who
forth?
Sonya wondered as there was movement among the lantern holders to the right and she prayed that Liu Kang or one of the others hadn't been captured.

She didn't know what to think when she saw what two of the white-hooded figures were carrying between them. It was a cage made of delicately carved bone, with jade hinges on the door and a jade handle. There were brushes tucked in the belts of the figures carrying the cage.

"The master has decreed a sacrifice," said Baraka, "and we who have come from the Outworld to prepare the way for Shao Kahn in the Mother Realm are honored to comply."

The cage was held near the foot of the slab, and Sonya saw a beautiful white pigeon inside. Sonya had volunteered to take intensive training in modern and ancient cults when she joined the U.S. Special Forces, and she knew that certain groups of seventeenth-century New England witches and modern-day voodoo priests sacrificed pigeons in their ceremonies. She wondered if the ancient cult of Shao Kahn was the source of these other forms of black arts.

"Bring her to me!" Baraka said.

Momentarily distracted by her reverie, Sonya was startled when she was suddenly thrown onto the slab. She landed hard and had the breath knocked out of her, and was unable to resist as the waves of hands once again pinned her, holding down her arms and pushing down on her waist.

Baraka stepped closer. He looked down at Sonya.

"You are fortunate," he said. "So few people get to see their own hearts before they die, but my blades work quickly."

My own heart
– she thought.
What happened to the bird?

Baraka raised his arms so the swords pointed straight up. "Oh, noble Hamachi," he burbled as the cage was raised higher, "great and devoted messenger to our master. We make this sacrifice that your likeness may be drawn on the walls of this shrine. In your name, noble bird, do we draw blood."

Slowly, the priest turned his wrists and pointed the blades toward Sonya's chest. And then, in a flash, they plunged down.

The casting of the transport spells was an enormous drain on Shang Tsung, and now he had no energy left for magic... or very much else.

Upon returning to the palace from the fields by Mt. Angilas, he was a little more bent than before, his skin hanging more loosely on his once-powerful frame. As Sonya was carted away, Shang Tsung had walked with halting steps toward his own personal shrine to the deity. He had learned in his long association with Rayden and Kung Lao not to be optimistic, but he believed that after several miscalculations things were finally going to go his way. The enraged Shao Kahn had allowed Reptile to come to this plane, and the bodyguard and Goro had cornered Rayden. Shang Tsung would finally be able to give Shao Kahn
good
news.

When he'd reached the room, Shang Tsung shuffled through the orange-tinged darkness toward the glow of the brazier within the enchanted circle.

"Ruthay," he'd said, "tell me. Has Kano found the amulet?"

"He... has!"

More good news!
Shang Tsung had thought.

Closing his eyes and projecting what little remained of his soul into the Aura, Shang Tsung saw Kano and used that last, desiccated fragment of spirit to send a bolt of red to bring him to the palace. But the wizard's soul had run out, and the bolt had dissipated shortly before Kano arrived. And now Shang Tsung lay on the floor of the shrine and awaited Kano's arrival, praying that the amulet would enable him to finish the job he had started so very, very long ago.

He didn't know how much time had passed until he heard heavy footfalls in the corridor, then in the shrine, and finally that welcome voice.

"Takin' a power nap, Shang?"

"Kano," said the wizard, craning his head around. "You – you made it."

"Yup," Kano said. "An' I got yer necklace. Right here," he pointed with both index fingers, "around
my
neck."

"Good... work," Shang Tsung said, struggling to reach out his hand. "May I have it, please?"

"Sure thing," said Kano, kneeling and slipping it off his neck. He held it toward the sorcerer's hand, then suddenly snatched it back. "Uh... in a minute, I mean. After we do some major renegotiating of my contract."

"I... don't understand."

Kano stood again. "Let me paint a picture. Yer lyin' there on yer belly without the strength t'blink. If I blew pepper up yer nose, ya'd sneeze and fall apart. Here I am, tight and firm as a new wallet, and holdin' this amulet that I'd really like to learn how to use. An' when I
do
learn, I'm thinkin' that out of gratitude to the guy who's gonna teach me – which is you – I'm gonna give you ten... no, make it fifteen percent of everything I get, money, women, countries, other worlds, you name it."

Shang Tsung shut his eyes. "You... idiot," he wheezed. "You don't know... what you're doing."

"Didn't I just say that, Shang-a-lang? That's why I need you! We'll be a team, like Nelson."

"To use any talisman," the wizard said, "one must have faith. One must... believe."

"I do. I believe that I'll make a great world ruler." He bent and grabbed Shang Tsung under the arms. "Now, let's sit you up somewhere, start you talkin' about the amulet, an'–"

The room was suddenly brilliant with red, and a moment later Shang Tsung was once again lying flat on the floor. Nearly two feet above him, Kano's feet were kicking wildly.

"You dare touch the master?" Goro snarled, squeezing Kano's arms tightly before throwing him back-first against a stone wall. "You
dare
?!"

"A most timely and fortuitous arrival," Shang Tsung said as Reptile helped him up.

"Timely perhaps," said the lizardlike Outworlder, "but not fortuitous. We failed, Shang Tsung."

"Failed... how?"

"Rayden was joined by two others – a member of the White Lotus Society and a creature who could teleport through a black aura."

"Through the world of the dead?" Shang Tsung asked.

"Yes. Though we were aided by the ninja you sent, Sub-Zero, we were unable to prevail."

"Where is Sub-Zero now?"

"We do not know," said Goro as he picked the dazed Kano up by the back of his neck, like a cat, removed the amulet, and dropped him to the floor. "He fled and hid."

Shang Tsung held on to Reptile's arm. "He may yet attack the others, but we cannot count on it. They will surely be coming here."

Goro handed Shang Tsung the amulet. "We have the advantage of knowing the battleground... and there are the souls and Salinas."

"That is true, Goro. And we have this," he said, holding the talisman before him and gazing into the milky rainbow set in a shifting pillow of gold. "Go and make ready to defend the palace while I consult with the Lord Master. And Goro – see to it that the body of Sonya Blade is disposed of before they arrive. They may divide to search for her, making it easier to defeat them."

His energies slightly renewed by the arrival of his aides, even in retreat, Shang Tsung was able to stand and walk at a halting, funereal pace toward the mystic circle.

"Did you hear... Ruthay?"

"I... did!" the demon screeched. "Your victory... and my freedom – oh, sweet freedom! – may be at hand!"

"Not
may be
," Shang Tsung smiled as he stepped over the circle and slipped the amulet around his neck. "
Are
at hand. Rayden and his companions may inadvertently help us, my pet. In just a few minutes, I will use the power of the amulet to draw the souls from the living bodies, send them through the Aura to Shao Kahn – and at long last, the barrier between the realms will be wide enough for him to pass through."

Shang Tsung's heart filled with hope and concentrated evil as he stood beside the brazier, invoked the name of the Dark Lord, and waited for fifteen centuries of waiting to come to an end.

And then he heard a crash outside.

"Shang Tsung," said Ruthay, "they come – they come!"

The wizard did not ask Ruthay to elaborate; there was no need.

Reluctantly leaving the circle, he called for Goro and Reptile, ordered the recovering Kano to accompany him if he ever hoped to get off the island, and made his way from the shrine to the palace gate.

During her three years of training to become a Special Forces agent, Sonya Blade had been taught, and had mastered, karate, kung fu, and tae kwon do. She was an expert with martial arts weapons such as nunchucks, sais, and katanas, and had mastered all the traditional Western weapons, including the knife, all forms of firearms, the bow and arrow, and explosives, ranging from sophisticated motion detectors attached to C-4s to makeshift hand grenades made with coffee tins, brads, and gunpowder. She had been taught Japanese, German, Russian, and Spanish in addition to the French and Finnish she already knew, and had studied the basics of medicine so she could treat herself or any of her comrades if they were wounded in battle.