Ortai Legacy

1 - Ritual (L)

I should've been outside, socializing with Grace and James instead of hiding in a tent. There was no good reason for me to be in here—at least, not one Grace would understand. After all, James hadn't actually done anything wrong. Maybe he would have, if I'd given him the chance. Or maybe I'd smashed a lamp on his head for no reason. I was so lucky he hadn't pressed charges.

My stomach twisted at the sound of footsteps. I'd half-hoped Grace would forget about me, but no such luck. The tent flap unzipped as I forced a semblance of a smile onto my face.

Bent over, Grace's waist-length black braid slipped forward over her shoulder. She smiled, crow's feet forming on her tan skin. Trust my cousin to always have a genuine smile at the ready, even after five hours of hiking through mosquito-ridden forest.

"You ready? Everyone's itching to get to the ruins and tell scary stories." She wiggled her fingers in a very un-scary way.

My answer was a resounding 'no,' but saying it out loud would only start an argument.

Before I could formulate a less direct answer, Grace grabbed my arm and tried to drag me out of the tent. It didn't work very well, given that I was nearly a foot taller and fifty pounds heavier than her.

"Come on, everyone's waiting."

"I'm not going. My feet are killing me, I'm sick of the bugs, and I'm sick of-" -the people. But I couldn't tell her that, because they were her friends, and she would take it way too personally if I told her I didn't like making small talk with six strangers, my ex-boyfriend, and the classmate who'd been avoiding me all year.

She pouted. "Liiiza, you promised."

"I promised to come on a 'small hike.' I didn't promise to walk my feet off."

"But it's just half an hour, twenty minutes if we're quick."

"That's an hour round trip."

She batted her eyelashes, which were naturally long and thick. "Pretty please, for the birthday girl? I know you'll love it. The ruins are so cool, just like the stuff you paint all the time. You've got to see them."

"I'd rather you just take a picture for me."

"It's not the same. Come on, if you're tired of walking, I'm sure James would carry you. He's been dying to talk to you all day."

"I wouldn't want to bother him. I'll just stay-"

"He won't mind." She leaned back to call, "James, Liza's feet hurt. Could you carry her to the ruins?"

"No problem," he called back with a voice that sent chills down my spine.

I scrambled out of the tent as he reached us. "I'm fine, really. You don't have to-"

He shook his head, and a leaf fell from his short, touseled hair. "It's no problem." He reached for my arm with a muscular hand.

I jumped back. "Don't touch me." My stupid voice was shaking like he'd come after me with a knife. Fighting to keep my tone level, I added, "I've got a bad cold." For once, I was grateful for my allergies as I convincingly sneezed into my elbow. For added—and unfortunate—realism, strands of snot clung to my face and arm.

James took a step back with a grimace. Grace rushed to pull a pack of tissues from her bag. I cleaned my face, glad that my snot seemed to have dissuaded James from coming any closer. I could've done without the other disgusted glances aimed at me, but it wasn't like I'd been close to Grace's hiking friends, anyway.

"Let's head out," James called to the clearing at large. As we headed out, he took the lead with Grace and Rowan—a lanky redhead who'd been my friend in art class before he stopped talking to me for no apparent reason.