Frozen Read Online Free PDF Page B

fish.”
    “But it’s not a spear-throwing match,” I say, nudging her with my elbow.
    She scowls at me, furious, and stalks off. I should have known better than to joke with her during a competition.
    “Don’t you want to see who wins?” I call after her.
    “I couldn’t care less.”
    “Moody thing, huh?” Xavier says. “Must be that time of the month.”
    Sammy smirks. “Yeah, these next few days should be downright peachy.”
    September and Emma glare at the both of them.
    “What?” Sammy asks innocently. “Can’t a guy speak his mind on his birthday?” Xavier buckles with laughter. Even I can’t help smiling.
    “What time of the month is it?” Aiden asks from atop Sammy’s shoulders.
    “Forget it, Aiden,” Emma says. “They’re just being boys.”
    “But I’m a boy! I want to know.”
    “How about we finish the game? You can judge the final shot, too, if you’d like.”
    “Okay,” he agrees.
    But when we get back to the shooting spot, Rusty is trying to have another go at Jackson, and Blaine is somehow stuck in the middle of it. His pack is held out like a shield, protecting him from the dog’s jaws. The Order spy stands safely behind him, laughing through his gag. Aiden calls Rusty off and Blaine throws his pack in the snow.
    “That dog needs to get it through his thick skull,” he snarls. “Yes, the prisoner is with the Order. Yes, he’s no good. But he’s going to be with us for a while, and I’m not okay with losing a limb because the dog feels like attacking me in the process of getting to him !”
    “Blaine, are you feeling all right?” Emma asks. She reaches out to him and he shrugs away. “You’re not one to get worked up over something so small.”
    “He would have killed me just to get at the spy, Emma. I swear it,” he says. “That’s no small matter.”
    “All right!” my father calls out. “Clipper got us straightened away. We need to cut south for a few miles.”
    “But the match,” Sammy says. “Emma and Gray have to play the final round.”
    My father looks between us. “Gray would win—no offense, Emma—and we have a pace to maintain. This is not negotiable.”
    We start walking again, but tensions are high. Clipper’s worried about the nearby town; my father, our pace. Sammy’s sullen and Blaine, suspicious. He keeps glaring at Rusty and holding the spy in front of him as protection. And Bree’s ill temper is transmitting in waves so thick it could knock a person over.
    When I ask her if she’s okay, she rolls her eyes and walks faster.
    Somehow, I feel like I’m at fault, even though I obviously have no control over any arrow fired but my own.

FIVE
    THAT NIGHT AFTER DINNER, WE disperse into smaller groups around the fire. My father and Clipper are deep in conversation, likely discussing our path. Again. Xavier is hard at work drying out his socks—he’s stuck them on the end of a forked stick so he can dangle them over the fire like roasted meat—and Aiden is back to playing Rock, Paper, Scissors with the spy.
    Someone removed Jackson’s gag and retied his hands in his lap so that he could eat, and he’s now able to make hand gestures back at the boy. He has a look on his face that almost appears big-brotherly as he plays with Aiden, not at all like the blood-hungry Order-spy-on-a-mission that we know he is. Blaine hovers nearby, watchful. Rusty, too, while not barking, hasn’t stopped snarling in Jackson’s direction. If I were the spy, I wouldn’t make a single sudden move with that dog around.
    I’m sitting with everyone else, listening to Sammy ramble about his childhood in Taem. Bree, who hasn’t said a word to me since the archery match, has taken especial interest in his story. Mostly, I think, so she has an excuse to not make eye contact with me. Emma, on the other hand, seems to have zero interest in Sammy’s words. She keeps twisting around to check on Aiden, her shoulder knocking against mine each time.
    “He’s fine,”