allegiant
DEDICATION
To Jo,
who guides and steadies me
EPIGRAPH
Every question that can be answered
must be
answered or at least engaged.
Illogical thought processes must be
challenged when they arise.
Wrong answers must be corrected.
Correct answers must be affirmed.
From the Erudite faction manifesto
CONTENTS
Dedication
Epigraph
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Special Thanks
About the Author
Back Ad
Praise
Books by Veronica Roth
Credits
Copyright
About the Publisher
CHAPTER
ONE
TRIS
I PACE IN our cell in Erudite
headquarters, her words echoing in my
mind: My name will be Edith Prior, and
there is much I am happy to forget.
So youve never seen her before?
Not even in pictures? Christina says,
her wounded leg propped up on a
pillow. She was shot during our
desperate attempt to reveal the Edith
Prior video to our city. At the time we
had no idea what it would say, or that it
would shatter the foundation we stand
on, the factions, our identities. Is she a
grandmother or an aunt or something?
I told you, no, I say, turning when I
reach the wall. Prior iswasmy
fathers name, so it would have to be on
his side of the family. But Edith is an
Abnegation name, and my fathers
relatives must have been Erudite, so
. . .
So she must be older, Cara says,
leaning her head against the wall. From
this angle she looks just like her brother,
Will, my friend, the one I shot. Then she
straightens, and the ghost of him is gone.
A few generations back. An ancestor.
Ancestor. The word feels old
inside me, like crumbling brick. I touch
one wall of the cell as I turn around. The
panel is cold and white.
My ancestor, and this is the
inheritance she passed to me: freedom
from the factions, and the knowledge that
my Divergent identity is more important
than I could have known. My existence
is a signal that we need to leave this city
and offer our help to whoever is outside
it.
I want to know, Cara says, running
her hand over her face. I need to know
how long weve been here. Would you
stop pacing for one minute?
I stop in the middle of the cell and
raise my eyebrows at her.
Sorry, she mumbles.
Its okay, Christina says. Weve
been in here way too long.
Its been days since Evelyn mastered
the chaos in the lobby of Erudite
headquarters with a few short commands
and had all the prisoners hustled away to
cells on the third floor. A factionless
woman came to doctor our wounds and
distribute painkillers, and weve eaten
and showered several times, but no one
has told us whats going on outside. No
matter how forcefully Ive asked them.
I thought Tobias would come by
now, I say, dropping to the edge of my
cot. Where is he?
Maybe hes still angry that you lied
to him and went behind his back to work
with his father, Cara says.
I glare at her.
Four wouldnt be that petty,
Christina says, either to chastise Cara or
to reassure me, Im not sure.
Somethings probably going on thats
keeping him away. He told you to trust
him.
In the chaos, when everyone was
shouting and the factionless were trying
to push us toward the staircase, I curled
my fingers in the hem of his shirt so I
wouldnt lose him. He took my wrists in
his hands and pushed me away, and
those were the words he said. Trust me.
Go where they tell you.
Im trying, I say, and its true. Im
trying to trust him. But every part of me,
every fiber and every nerve, is straining
toward freedom, not just from this cell
but from the prison of the city beyond it.
I need to see whats outside the
fence.
CHAPTER
TWO
TOBIAS
I CANT WALK these hallways without
remembering the days I spent as a
prisoner here, barefoot, pain pulsing
inside me every time I moved. And with
that memory is another one, one of
waiting for Beatrice Prior to go to her
death, of my fists against the door, of her
legs slung across Peters arms when he
told me she was just drugged.