by Jeff Rovin
“No,” Sonya said. “I’ve got to return to the U.S. and brief my boss about what happened here. Jackson Briggs doesn’t like to be kept in the dark, and besides – Kano is like a rotten log. He may duck under the surface for a while, but eventually he’d bob back up. And when he does, I’ll be there.”
“With me right beside you,” Liu Kang said. “What do you say we get ourselves some McPheasants and fries and go and start our long walk to the train station?”
Sonya put an arm around his shoulder. “Your treat?”
“My treat.”
“Let’s go,” she said, as they started toward the inn.
Behind them, Chin Chin stood alone outside the temple, watching from a distance as Kung Lao was welcomed by his monks.
After a few moments, he became aware of a tall figure standing beside him.
“Did you hear?” the youth said to the stranger, a beggar who was dressed in a black wool robe, his face hidden in the shadow of a leather-fringed cowl. “I am to become a priest.”
“I heard,” said the stranger in a soothing, mellifluous voice. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you, sir,” Chin Chin’s face was radiant. “Do you think that my training will include–?” He hesitated. “No. What a fool! I dare not even think it.”
But he did think it.
“Wouldn’t it be wonderful,” he said a moment later, “if Kung Lao were to teach me how to use his secret amulet? Think of it, sir. I would use its magic to help so many people in need.”
The stranger asked, “Would you?”
“Yes! Yes indeed!”
“Then heed well your first lesson, Chin Chin.”
The boy looked at him, “First lesson? In what, sir?”
“In where strength truly lies.”
The sunlight struck the perfectly formed mouth of the beggar beneath the leather edge of the hood. The flesh of his cheek and chin appeared unnaturally smooth, like glass, almost radiant.
“I’m sorry,” Chin Chin said. “I don’t understand.”
The stranger took a step toward the boy. “The amulet you covet has no power,” he said.
Chin Chin’s enthusiasm seemed to collapse. “What do you mean, sir? Of course it has power!”
“No,” said the stranger, moving a strong finger back and forth. “The power of the amulet is only as great as the power of the user.” The stranger reached over and thumped his finger on Chin Chin’s chest. “The power of the amulet comes from in here.”
“From inside of me?” the youth asked.
“The talisman simply helps the user to believe,” said the stranger.
“Believe in what? In T’ien? In magic?”
“In himself,” the stranger said patiently. “Like the smile of a child or a glorious sunrise, it helps the wearer suppress the evil side we all have. Like a cooling rain, it cleanses and refreshes the spirit, brings to the surface the strength and noble ambitions which are already inside.”
Chin Chin didn’t know whether to be delighted or disappointed by the revelation, or whether to believe it at all. Yet something about the stranger made him believe, and for what may have been a moment or an hour, he stood peering into the compelling eyes of the stranger.
“Would it be rude to ask, sir, how you know so much about Kung Lao’s amulet?” Chin Chin said. “Are you a priest of pilgrim of the Order of Light?”
“No,” said the stranger. “I am neither. I am an explorer, much as you will become.”
“I?” said the youth. “But you’re wrong, sir. I won’t become an explorer. I’ve just been asked to serve in the temple.”
“And so you shall,” the beggar said, holding out his hand. Pinched between his thumb and index finger was a white cloth that fluttered in the breeze. “Can you read this?” he asked.
Chin Chin took the fabric and looked at the black characters painted on one side. “‘He cannot die yet does not live, ‘tis true. He is more than all, and all is P’an Ku.’” The shepherd regarded the stranger. “I don’t understand. Who is P’an Ku?”
“He is the one for whom I search… for whom you will search. To understand P’an Ku is to understand the nature of all creation. To understand him is to find the source of mortals and immortals, of good and evil, to comprehend the dual nature of the universe.”
Chin Chin looked at the paper again, then went to hand it back to the stranger.
“It’s yours,” the beggar said, holding up a hand. “Keep it always to remind you that the quest never ends.”
His golden eyes flashing beneath his cowl as he turned away, the stranger left Chin Chin more confused than before – but determined to work hard and find answers to the myriad questions that now raced through his mind.
As he watched him go, Chin Chin muttered, “I wonder who that–”
And then lightning flashed and the beggar was gone, and as he ran into the temple Chin Chin knew to whom he had just been speaking….
CHAPTER FOURTY-FOUR
“Another one?”
“No, Lord. No.”
The darkness grew and then receded as Shao Kahn shifted on his throne.
“These mortals bore me with their arrogance and petty requests.”
“I don’t blame you at all, sire,” Ruthay said. “It is not another wizard or witch, sire.”
“Then what is it?”
The portly, parchment-skinned Ruthay kicked the hem of his red robe behind him, and bowing low, his forehead nearly touching his toes, he approached the nearly invisible presence of Shao Kahn.
“Lord Shao,” the little demon said – as always commanding only a fraction of the authority he wanted or needed – “I have had a message from… from your servant in the Mother Realm.”
Ruthay leaned into a sigh that sounded and felt like a blast from the furnaces that flamed the pits of the Outworld palace.
“What does the pathetic mortal say?”
“Lord Master, Shang Tsung says that you will have the last remaining soul you require very soon, and will be able to cross over.”
“I tire of his promises.”
“He… he says he is sure of it.”
“He was certain the last time.”
“Sire, he… admits he was distracted. He sought the amulet of Rayden to s-serve you, Majesty.”
“Blind Ruthay,” Shao Kahn said. “He sought the amulet to oppose me, imp!”
“No!” Ruthay said. “Shang Tsung… would not have dared to oppose you, Great One! He knows that were he to try, he could not succeed.”
“That is why he failed, small one. I cannot be thwarted. Not by him… and not by Rayden.”
“Y-yes, Most High,” Ruthay said fawningly. “I will communicate that to his unlofty deceitfulness.”
“Do so,” Shao Kahn rumbled. “And tell him one thing more, flamelet.”
“Anything, Radiance.”
“Tell Shang Tsung that if he fails me again, if he fails to obtain a soul for me in the next Mortal Kombat, I will find a way to enter the contest and take the soul I need – perhaps his, little regent. Or if you tarry another moment, perhaps what is left of yours.”
Ruthay backed away from the throne, still bowing. “A most… reasonable and sane course of action, Your Godliness,” he said. “Though I must confess, Mighty Ruler of the Outworld, I would look forward to such a contest.”
Shao Kahn’s ferocious teeth were visible as his mouth pulled into a smile.
“Ruthay,” he said, “I look forward to such a Mortal Kombat… too.”
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