When Olaf saw it, he quickly snatched it up and threw it out of the sleigh. “Crisis averted!” he cheered, pleased with himself. Then he continued with his happy song and dance.
The coal soared through the air and knocked the squirrel square in the head, then ricocheted back onto the sleigh! It rolled into some little straw goat ornaments and instantly sparked a flame. Olaf didn’t notice.
As the flames spread, the sleigh broke away from the reindeer—except for one strap. The sleigh gathered speed down the mountain, gradually overtaking Sven. Olaf, sitting atop the traditions that had not yet caught fire, zoomed past the sprinting reindeer.
“Oh, look!” he exclaimed. “Another reindeer!” He waved. “Hi!”
The fire crackled and roared, losing chunks of debris to one side, then the other. Olaf still didn’t notice. “Wow, we’re making really good time.”
Sven dug his heels into the mountainside, trying to stop the sleigh. But the momentum was too much. At the edge of a cliff, CRACK! The sleigh snapped apart and launched into the air. The single strap connecting Sven to the sleigh broke, and the reindeer skidded to a halt.
The sleigh flew high over the cliff, sending the holiday items tumbling into a gorge. Olaf was catapulted across the divide, where he landed safely in the snow.
Olaf looked down over the edge, shocked and confused, watching as the sleigh fell.
“Hey, the fire’s out!” he called over to Sven.
Then he and Sven watched, horrified, as the sleigh hit the bottom of the canyon. There was a moment of silence just before they heard a deafening boom as Kristoff’s sleigh exploded in a great big raging ball of fire.
Olaf and Sven stared as the flames died down, revealing the burnt wreckage below. Black smoke billowed up between the canyon walls.
“Oh, darn it,” said Olaf. The tradition items were gone.
Back at the castle, Elsa was pacing around her bedroom, feeling awful. She knew she shouldn’t have run out on her sister the way she had. The fact that she had left her on the other side of a closed door made her feel even worse. How could she have stirred up those terrible old memories of shutting Anna out? She had promised herself a long time ago that she wouldn’t do that to her sister again. And yet here she was, locked away in her bedroom after leaving Anna all alone.
She knew what she had to do to fix it. She headed down the hallway to apologize.
Elsa stood for a moment in front of Anna’s bedroom door and took a deep breath, collecting herself before turning the knob.
“Anna, I owe you an apology for earlier,” she said, slowly opening the door. She peered inside but didn’t see her sister anywhere. The room was empty. “Anna?”
CRASH! THUMP! A loud noise boomed from above. Elsa looked at the ceiling. The attic, she thought.
Elsa left the empty bedroom and made her way to the top of the castle. She pushed open a creaky hatch and climbed into the dark attic. Flickers of dust danced in the light of her lantern. It was quiet and creepy up there, and she spotted the outlines of boxes and furniture covered with tarps scattered throughout the space. She could also make out some cobwebs draped across the corners between some of the wooden beams.
Thump! Clunk! She heard the noise again, and as her heart rate increased, she shone her lantern around the darkness, looking for the source. Finally, her light landed on a rustling shape in the corner.
Elsa gasped as Anna popped out of a big old trunk, wearing a goofy grin and some random accessories.
“Hi, Elsa!” she said, beaming.
“Anna? What are you doing up here?” asked Elsa, relieved.
“Looking for traditions,” Anna said, slipping out of the trunk.
“And what are you wearing?” asked Elsa, eyeing her sister’s odd hat and cape.
“My old Viking helmet!” Anna said proudly. “And this is my sorceress cloak!” she said, turning to reveal a big velvet cloak with a stiff collar. Then she lifted her foot and wiggled it around, showing off a large, scaly green slipper. “Dragon feet!” She mimicked a roaring dragon. “Rahhh!” She giggled. “I found them in my trunk.”
Anna had really enjoyed being up in the attic, surrounded by all the memories. She showed Elsa some of the other things she had found: her first bicycle, her favorite books, and even some birthday cards from her parents. It was nice to think about some of the good things she had experienced as a young girl. She had also found marbles, pebbles, and pressed flowers that she couldn’t quite remember saving. Elsa reminded her that as a child she’d liked to collect “treasures.” They were sure that those items were part of Anna’s prize collection.
Finally, Anna stepped out of her trunk and headed over to Elsa. She couldn’t wait to see what memories her sister had stored in the attic.
“What’s in your trunk?” she asked eagerly.
“Oh, mostly gloves,” said Elsa with a shrug.
Anna carefully made her way to another corner of the attic to a trunk with Elsa’s name painted on it.
“Right,” she said, chuckling. “Rows and rows of satin gloves.” She lifted the lid and immediately stopped laughing. Neat rows of paired gloves seemed to line the entire trunk. “Oh!”
“Yep, welcome to my world,” said Elsa.
“Wait,” said Anna, reaching into the trunk. Something had caught her eye. It was a small, tattered toy that appeared to be worn from many years of love. Anna lifted the strange little creature out of the trunk. It was made of yarn and had one button eye, a cape, and a few straggly pieces of orange hair sticking out the top of its oddly shaped head. “Who’s this little guy?”
Delighted, Elsa grabbed it. “Oh, Sir Jorgenborgen!” she exclaimed, giving it a big hug. She stared at it lovingly as she played with a strand of his yarn hair and sighed. “He was a really good listener.”
She cradled him for a moment before looking at her sister. “Anna, how are we going to find any signs of traditions up here?” She didn’t think being in the attic was going to solve their problem. Ready to give up and go back down-stairs, she tossed Sir Jorgenborgen back into the trunk. But as he landed, she heard the faint ringing of bells. Her face brightened as the sound sparked an old, dusty memory. She reached into her trunk, curious. “Unless…,” she said with a sly smile as she rummaged around. Suddenly, she lifted out a wooden box. A delicate design was carved into it, and tiny golden bells sat on top.
“What’s that?” asked Anna.
“Look inside,” said Elsa, holding the box out to her sister.
Anna paused for a moment, enjoying the suspense before slowly opening the mysterious box. She gasped, surprised to see what was inside. A smile crept across her face and she happily gazed up at her sister. They both knew what they had to do next. With the box in hand, they hurried down from the attic to find Olaf.
Out in the mountains, dusk was long gone. It was getting late. The stars began to twinkle and shine against the darkening blue sky. Olaf stood at the edge of the cliff and looked over at Sven, way on the other side of the deep canyon.
“Okay, Sven,” he called. “I’m not going to sugarcoat it: this is a bit of a setback.”
The reindeer stood and watched as Olaf looked at a few of the destroyed items that had fallen out of the sleigh around him.
“Oh. Maybe this is salvageable,” Olaf said, picking up a crown made of candles. He put it on his head and it crumbled apart. “No, definitely not.” He spotted a holiday vase and picked it up. “Parts of this are still good, I think.” The vase cracked and shards of glass dropped to the ground. “Oh no. This is unsafe now.” He tried to move the broken pieces into a pile.
Refusing to give up hope, Olaf continued to scan the surrounding area, searching for one single item he could bring back to Elsa and Anna. He couldn’t imagine that he might be left with nothing after all his hard work. His eyes lit up when he finally discovered something that was still fully intact.
“Hey!” he shouted. “The fruitcake!” He picked up the dense dessert. “These things are ind
estructible.” He held it up to show Sven.
Olaf tried to figure out what to do next. He was happy to have found something to take to the castle, but how would he and Sven get back? He turned toward the thick, dark forest behind him and called out to Sven, “I’ll just take this seemingly harmless shortcut here and meet you back at the castle, okay?”
Sven could only watch helplessly as Olaf disappeared into the darkness.
Seconds later, a pack of wolves howled in the distance. Sven pawed at the snow, trying to find a way over the chasm. But he could only listen as he heard Olaf say, “Ohhh, puppies!” Then the wolves began to growl. “Down, boy,” said Olaf. “Sit. Ah! I’m just gonna go—Noooo!” Olaf’s scream faded into the forest.
Sven couldn’t get to his friend. With no other choice, he raced back to the castle as fast as he could.
Meanwhile, a strange scent wafted through the stables as Kristoff finished making his traditional Flemmy Stew. Thoroughly enjoying the process, he hummed happily as he stirred the big pot. Feeling like a true chef, he reached out and grabbed various items, and threw them into the pot between each stir. He smelled the steam coming off the stew and gave an approving nod.
Just then, like a bolt of lightning, Sven burst through the door. He was running so fast that he couldn’t stop. He smashed right into the back wall!
“Sven!” said Kristoff excitedly. “The Flemmy Stew is ready!”
Sven breathlessly raced over to Kristoff.
“Anna and Elsa are gonna love this,” Kristoff continued, unaware that Sven was trying to get his attention.
Sven nudged Kristoff, butting his head against his shoulder. He made a loud groaning noise, trying to tell Kristoff about Olaf, but Kristoff didn’t seem to get it. Kristoff lowered his voice, pretending to speak for Sven. “Oh, Kristoff, you’re so thoughtful! Now, where’s my bowl?”
Frustrated, Sven ran toward his stall. Kristoff slipped back into his regular voice.
“Hey, simmer down, buddy. Here you go.” He brought Sven a big bowl of stew. Sven turned away, picked a carrot up with his mouth, and stuck it into the center of the bowl.
“Whoa,” said Kristoff to Sven. “What are you—”
Sven pushed on the carrot with his hoof, trying to make it stick straight up. The stew now vaguely resembled Olaf’s face, complete with his carrot nose.
“Oh,” said Kristoff. “Of course!” Sven nodded enthusiastically, thrilled that Kristoff was finally picking up on his signals.
Kristoff slipped into his Sven voice. “Needs more carrots.” Sven grunted and frowned, surp-rised at how difficult it was to communicate with his best friend.
“Can’t get enough of ’em, can ya?” asked Kristoff in his regular voice.
Irritated, Sven used his teeth to pull the carrot out of the bowl of stew. He would have to think of another way to explain. He grabbed a couple of sticks and tried to make himself look like Olaf, using them as twig arms. He wobbled around, mimicking the little snowman.
Using some bales of hay, Sven attempted to act out the scary scene in the forest. He ducked behind the hay and howled like a wolf. Then he suddenly popped out, pretending to be Olaf. He sank behind the hay and came up again, this time showing his teeth, growling, and pretending to be a ferocious wolf. He continued to play the parts of Olaf and the wolves, hiding as he changed characters, trying to demonstrate what had happened. Kristoff watched, utterly puzzled by Sven’s behavior.
“Uh,” Kristoff said, clueless.
Neither Sven nor Kristoff had noticed Anna and Elsa standing in the doorway behind them. The sisters had not been able to find Olaf and had decided to check with Kristoff. They had witnessed Sven’s entire performance.
“Oh no!” Anna said urgently. “Olaf is lost in the forest?”
“And being chased by hungry wolves?” added Elsa.
Relieved, Sven nodded. The sisters had understood him perfectly!
“Uh, yeah!” said Kristoff. “Obviously,” he added, awkwardly clearing his throat. He set down the stew and hurried after Elsa and Anna as they ran out of the stables. A moment later he poked his head in and looked at Sven, who was finally catching his breath. “C’mon, Sven! Make yourself useful. Olaf needs our help!”
Sven grunted, following Kristoff. Outside in the darkness, the worried group worked on a plan to help find their lost friend.
The moon hung in the night sky, casting a dim glow on the dark forest below. With the wolves running behind him, Olaf bolted down a twisted path. He had never been in the forest alone at night before, and the darkness made it especially scary. Terrifying shadows appeared, and strange animal noises sounded and cackled from every corner. Olaf tried his best to shut it all out and focus only on his escape. He simply had to get that fruitcake back to Anna and Elsa.
The wolves charged after him, their yellow eyes narrowing as they ran faster and faster. Olaf panted as he ran as fast as he could, clutching the fruitcake. He scraped past thorny branches, but they didn’t slow him down. The angry wolves growled, snarled, and drooled as they continued to chase him, getting closer and closer.
“Please!” he shouted breathlessly. “I know you’re hungry, but I need at least one item for my best friends.” The wolves nipped at his heels. “The fate of the world depends on it!”
Olaf could see that the path ahead was blocked by thick, gnarled branches and brambles. He spotted a few small gaps in the brush and came up with a plan. In one swift move, he flung the fruitcake into one of the holes and then jumped through, splitting himself apart so he could fit.
Moments later, the disassembled snowman and the fruitcake were both safe on the other side. The wolves snapped and growled angrily as they tried to get to him, sticking their noses through and pawing at the ground. But they were too large to squeeze past the brambles. They whimpered as the thorns pricked into their skin, until they finally gave up. With one final sigh, they turned and headed back down the path.
Relieved, Olaf put himself back together and took a deep breath. He had survived the chase, but he looked completely disheveled. One of his eyes was puffed up to the size of a small snowball, and he was covered from head to toe in scratches, bruises, dirt, and leaves. Even his nose had slid over to the back of his head. But he didn’t care one bit. In fact, he felt great! Thrilled, he picked up the fruitcake and shouted, “Yes! I did it!” He danced a joyful jig around in the snow. “A tradition is saved!” He held the cake up, victorious.
SCREECH! SCREECH! Just then, a giant hawk gracefully swooped down and swiped the fruitcake from his grip! Olaf’s smile sank as he watched the bird fly off, cawing as it carried the cake away in its thick talons. He stared up at the sky, astounded, until the bird disappeared into the dark night. He couldn’t believe the only thing he’d managed to save was gone. He had failed.
Deflated, Olaf sighed. “Well, I guess hawks need traditions, too,” he said, pushing his nose back into place.
Olaf felt terrible. The last thing he wanted to do was let Elsa and Anna down. Slumped over, with his head hanging low, he slowly walked a few paces. He sunk down in the snow and collapsed against a tree. “Maybe I should just stay lost.” He settled into his spot.
As the sad little snowman sat, feeling worse than he ever had before, the snow began to gently fall, and soon covered him like a blanket.
The Yule Bell rang out across the kingdom, alerting everyone that something was happening. Anna and Elsa knew that Olaf needed all the help they could get. Along with Kristoff, they knocked on doors, explaining what had happened as they gathered a search party.
Soon it seemed as if everyone in the kingdom had come together to help. Armed with lanterns, they headed into the mountains to look for Olaf.
When they got to the forest, the group split up, fanning out in different directions. “Olaf! Olaf!” they called, searching every corner of the forest.
Elsa and Anna went off together, calling out his name as they hurried through the snow.
“He’s not here,” said
a familiar voice. Elsa and Anna exchanged a relieved look, then rushed toward a carrot sticking out of a nearby snowdrift.
“Hmm, I wonder where he went,” said Anna, smiling widely at Elsa.
“Well, he probably went on a mission to find traditions for Anna and Elsa,” said Olaf’s voice.
“Did he find any?” asked Elsa.
“He did, but they caught fire and fell off a cliff, and then they caught fire again,” the voice said sadly.
Sven trotted over and sniffed the snow. He followed the scent trail all the way to the carrot. Using his teeth, he pulled Olaf out of the snowdrift by his nose.
“And then a hawk took them,” Olaf added blankly. He looked up at the sisters and sighed. “I’m sorry. You still don’t have a tradition.”
“But we do, Olaf. Look,” said Anna. She knelt and held up the old wooden box from Elsa’s trunk. Then she opened it and showed him its contents.
Olaf peered inside and gasped. His eyes brightened. “Wait….” He reached toward the box. “Is that…?” His voice cracked a little as it trailed off. He was speechless at the sight. Inside were dozens of drawings, paintings, and sculptures—and every one was of him!
“Anna made these years ago when we first created you,” explained Elsa. “You were the one who brought us together and kept us connected when we were apart.”
“Every Christmas, I made Elsa a gift,” Anna said proudly.
She and Elsa shared their memory with Olaf and explained how each year, Anna would slip her homemade gift beneath Elsa’s door. And even though they couldn’t celebrate the holidays together, they both looked forward to their little tradition.
“All those long years alone,” said Anna, “we had you to remind us of our childhood. Of how much we still loved each other.”
“It’s you, Olaf,” said Elsa with a smile. “You are our tradition.”
Olaf's Frozen Adventure Junior Novel Page 4