Page 134 of The Sixth Fraction

Tris

The main hall of the Museum can be beautiful at night. Most days, no one bothers to get the sun-charged lamps from the roof of the building to light the space, but tonight they did, and they fill the airy room with a warm glow. It’s safe to light up the main hall, since it’s surrounded by walls on all sides, and its only windows are skylights. It’s like a firefly trapped between cupped hands.

Most of the Foxes are out on missions, since it’s always safer to move in the dark. But on the second floor, a few of them are playing quiet music. I try to identify the sounds, the way Rory taught me. A flute. A violin—no, a cello. I look up to discover the cello player is Boots. He winks at me.

There’s no formal end to my initiation period, such as it is. But I can feel it winding down, as fewer people call me “Priss” every day, as the wary animosity so many of them seemed to feel for me gentles. I assume it will take time to make friends among the older Foxes, but I have friends of my own.

I would be sorry to leave the peace of this place if I wasn’t going to meet Tobias. But I am. So I hurry across the lobby and, once outside, jog toward the train platform.

It still amazes me how things that used to feel impossible can become so routine. Running alongside the train like it’s some mythical beast that I’ve learned to tame, for one. Letting myself hang halfway out of the train car as it rushes forward, so I can feel the wind on my face, for another.

And for a third: walking right into the building where Tobias Eaton lives like I belong there.

After we met with my mother, he walked me to the Museum. He’s not supposed to know where our other safe houses are, but I wanted him to know how to find me, just in case. And I can’t bring myself to regret the way the night ended, with him tugging me back before I could step into the tunnel, sweeping my hair to the side, and kissing my neck. I can still feel it now, the cold spot on my skin where his lips were.

We agreed to meet at his apartment tonight. He left the key for me on top of the door frame, joking that I’d have to jump to get it. And I do, actually—three times.

The apartment is a big open space, with brick walls and high ceilings. It’s neat, almost Abnegation-like in its simplicity, but not quite. Books on the desk, boxing gloves hanging from a hook next to the door. And on the windowsills, there are all kinds of little objects. Pieces of colored glass filed down so they have soft edges. Little bottles that look like they once held perfume. Paper clips twisted into new shapes. Corks. Computer parts. Braided wires. There’s a row of photograph negatives taped to the glass next to his bed. I bend down to see what the photographs are. Just faces, I realize, of people he doesn’t know. People from another time.

The door opens behind me, and I turn to see, not Tobias Eaton, but a girl.

She’s tall, with short brown hair tucked behind her ears. She’s wearing the coveralls of a Dauntless paramedic, trimmed in electric green.

“Oh, good, you’re here already,” she says. “Would you mind coming with me?”

I stare at her.

“I sort of do, yeah,” I say.

“Sorry, I should have explained.” She closes the door behind her and sticks out her hand. “I’m Shauna. Four’s friend. I know he’s supposed to meet you here, but . . .” She pauses, and bites her lip. “I think he might need your help.”

“What happened?” I say.

“I’m not actually sure,” she says. “I just know something did.” She looks me over, her eyes roaming over my black pants and my dark red shirt. “Here—” She goes to the wardrobe that’s against the back wall and opens it to stacks of neatly folded clothing. She takes out a black T-shirt and tosses it to me. “That should help you blend in.”

I catch it. The fabric is worn and soft, the color a little faded. I glance at her.

“Oh! Sorry. Dauntless’s complete lack of modesty strikes again.” She turns around to give me some privacy, and I decide that she doesn’t mean me any harm. I take off my shirt and pull on Tobias’s. It’s huge on me, the sleeves hanging down to my elbows, but it smells like him.

“He . . . told you about me?” I say, as I follow her to the door.

“Sort of,” she says. “He’s not exactly forthcoming about anything. But I know he’s seeing someone, and I knew he was coming here after his last sim of the day, so . . .”

If it troubles her that I’m obviously factionless, given the blend of colors I was wearing when I got here, she doesn’t show it. Her brow is knit with worry. We walk down the street toward Dauntless headquarters together, and I can tell she’s holding herself back from running.

I realize I never introduced myself to her after I shook her hand. “I’m Tris, by the way.”

“Tris,” she says. “Well, I have to be honest with you, when he said you weren’t Dauntless, ‘factionless’ wasn’t my first guess, but I guess it makes sense.”

“It does?”

She shrugs. “He’s got his own ways of doing things. I bet you do, too.”

I can’t suppress a smile at that. She leads the way into the Pire and down the stairs into the Pit.

I’ve been here before, but I was so focused on following Eric then that I didn’t really look around. The path to the bottom of the Pit is a market, and I’ve never been in one before. There’s a stall selling loaves of bread, and another one selling jewelry for all kinds of piercings, including ones I didn’t even know existed. There’s a little shop for clothing, and the tattoo parlor, and a store at the bend in one of the walls that seems to sell odds and ends. I want to walk through it and spend an hour examining the sponges shaped like little flames, cooking pots in colorful enamel, houseplants under bright grow lights, and throw blankets with the Dauntless motto stitched into them. We believe in ordinary acts of bravery, I read, as we pass. In the courage that drives one person to stand up for another.

At the bottom of the Pit, Shauna leads me down another hallway, this one unfamiliar to me. I can tell by the smell of sweat in the air that we’re going to some kind of gymnasium. She walks right past a huge space that must be the room most Dauntless train in—and sure enough, I can see people sparring in two of the three arenas—and into a smaller one.