Page 60 of The Sixth Fraction

Then I see Tris standing across the room. She looks different today than she did in the dark of the train. Smaller, surrounded by so many people who are taller than she is, but my eye still goes right to her.

“Do you want me to go get Evelyn?” she asks, her voice carrying easily across the silent room.

“Yeah,” I reply. “That would be helpful.”

Chapter 20

Tris

Four was striking on the train, in the dark, by the light of the moon. In the bright light of the Rookery he’s . . . intimidating. Tall and broad-shouldered with an intense look about him, like all he sees are problems he’s determined to solve. He didn’t even flinch when Jove held a gun to his head.

And then he just took it from her.

I’m still a little dazed, replaying that moment in my mind. I didn’t know he could move like that, deadly quick and so sure of himself.

Evelyn was in the Mender’s workshop, letting Mae show her the fort she’d made out of clothing racks—a rare show of warmth for her. Now she’s back to the way she always is, descending the grand steps of the Rookery’s lobby to speak to our guests.

I follow her, more out of curiosity than anything.

“I’ll take it from here, Jove, thanks,” Evelyn says to Jove, though her eyes are on Four.

Jove—now armed again—steps away. I can feel people at my back, watching, waiting for whatever will come.

“Hello,” Evelyn replies, quietly. “It’s good to see you. And so soon.”

There’s something uneasy in her voice that I’ve never heard there before. Evelyn the hard-edged factionless strategist, yielding to a different Evelyn entirely. But it only makes Four set his jaw.

“This is Christina.” He nods to the girl next to him. “You told me, once, that this place was a safe haven. I hope that was true.”

I look Christina over, trying to figure out what the relationship between them is. She’s tall, athletic, and pretty, even with her head bandaged. She’s dressed in Dauntless clothes, but she doesn’t look that old. An initiate, maybe.

“Of course it’s true,” Evelyn says. “Though I admit I didn’t expect you to walk right in our front door without knocking.”

“Ah, well,” Four says. “Life takes all kinds of unexpected turns, doesn’t it?”

The air feels suddenly tense, like the moment before it starts to rain, or the last second of unsteadiness before a building collapses. I’m aware that I shouldn’t be here anymore—I got Evelyn, I helped defuse the situation, and now I should disappear. But moving now would only call attention to me, so I stay as still as possible.

Evelyn stares at him for a few interminable seconds, and then turns to Christina.

“The story of how you ended up here is your own to tell, if and when you want to tell it,” Evelyn says to her. “But this is a place that rejects the faction system that sustains itself with inequality. If that’s an idea you can agree to explore, and if you can agree to a few basic rules, you are welcome to stay here. Tris?”

I jerk to attention. “Um . . . yes?”

“Tell her the rules,” she says.

“Oh.” The last thing I want to do is recite what Rory told me when I got here like a trained bird. But it’s important that I prove my loyalty to the factionless—to Evelyn. “Um—the first rule is, don’t get caught. The second is, do something useful. And the third is . . . no factions.”

Christina’s eye finds mine. I try to give her a reassuring smile, but I’m not sure it works.

“So?” Evelyn asks Christina.

“Sure,” Christina says. “Doesn’t sound that complicated.”

“Wonderful.” Evelyn smiles, but her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “Jove will get you set up with a place to sleep and some basic necessities. And unless you’re planning on staying—” She directs this comment at Four. “I’ll have Tris walk you out.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” he says. “Least of all one who’s an obvious attempt to manipulate me.”

“I need someone to ensure that you exit this area without giving away our position,” Evelyn says. “And if I believed you could have a civil conversation with me, I would walk you out myself. But since that doesn’t seem to be possible for us . . .” She shrugs. “I’ll settle for sending you out with my lackey, as you called her.”