Frozen Read Online Free PDF

boy’s touch seems to be the only thing to calm the animal. Rusty curls up at Aiden’s feet, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the spy.
    Sammy links his fingers together and pushes them into a stretch. “Who’d have thought I’d spend my twenty-first birthday like this: cold, frozen, and being tugged through the forest by a manic dog.”
    “Today’s your birthday?” I ask.
    “It’s the eleventh, isn’t it?”
    I try to count back to when we left. The date sounds right, but I’m not positive.
    “Clipper!” Sammy calls across camp. “What’s the date, genius?”
    The boy doesn’t turn around to face us—he’s too deep in conversation with my father and Bo—but he holds his hands overhead, each with a pointer finger raised to the sky.
    “The eleventh,” Sammy says. “Yup. Twenty-one today.”
    “Another December birthday,” Bree chimes in. “I’m the twenty-third.”
    I’m shocked to discover that until now, I didn’t know Bree’s birthday. How has such a basic detail never come up?
    “We should do something,” Emma says. “You know, to celebrate.”
    “Find a pub and I’m in,” Bree deadpans.
    Sammy snorts. “Me, too, Nox. Me, too.” He jerks his head at Emma. “Have any backup plans, Link? You know, since there are no drinks in sight?”
    Sammy has a habit of calling people by their last name, but for some reason, it bothers me when he refers to Emma this way. Emma and Bree both have harsh-sounding last names, but only Bree’s suits her.
    “Yeah, actually. I do.” Emma grabs a small sack of grain from Snow’s back and sets it on the stump of a fallen tree about twenty paces away. “Archery match,” she says, pointing at the target. “Right now.”
    Sammy’s eyes liven. “Oh, you’re on. Who else is in?”
    I raise a hand. Xavier and September come join us.
    “Hey, Blaine? You playing?” I call out.
    He shakes a thumb at Jackson. “Have to hold this rat so he doesn’t run off.”
    “I’ll watch him,” Bree says.
    “You’re passing up an archery match?” I ask, shocked.
    She shrugs. “A bow and arrow is not my preferred weapon of choice.”
    “So you’re saying you can only fire that thing,” Emma says, eyeing the rifle in Bree’s hands.
    “Is that a challenge?”
    “Maybe.”
    September and Xavier let out a series of oooh s, and Sammy starts whistling.
    “Fine,” Bree snaps. “I’ll play.”
    Xavier and I are the only two in the group who opted for a bow when we left Crevice Valley, so ours are passed around as the match progresses. There are six of us playing and we agree to knock off two people with each round. The first round is shot from twenty paces. To my surprise, September, who is deadly with a firearm, doesn’t even come close to hitting the target. Everyone else strikes true, including Emma. I’m proud to think that I trained her months ago in Claysoot, and I compliment her form. Sammy’s arrow ends up being the farthest from the sack’s center, so he joins September off to the side.
    I fire a perfect shot in the next round. Xavier slips in the snow and shoots wide, but both Emma and Bree strike close to my arrow. Bree is a tad high, Emma a tad low.
    “Not bad,” I tell Emma again. Bree snorts from behind me, but if she expects praise for missing a bull’s-eye, she’s crazy.
    “Aiden wants to help judge!” Sammy scoops the boy onto his shoulders and comes racing through the show. Once we’re all gathered around the target, Sammy points at the two outlying arrows. “All right, Aiden. Which of these is closest to the center one?”
    Aiden screws up his face in concentration and finally points at the arrow below mine.
    Bree throws up her hands. “Of course he’d pick Emma’s. He hates me!”
    “We didn’t tell him which arrow was hers,” Sammy points out.
    “Ugh, whatever. I’d slaughter you all if this was a spear-throwing match. We didn’t use arrows much in Saltwater, you know. A spear is far more effective for catching