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The Divergent (PDF,ePub) series is quickly becoming very popular amongst readers. Insurgent and Allegiant are also great pdf reads. Cookie Settings. ※ Download: Insurgent veronica roth pdf free download 2shared. Gelatina de Mosaico Fresa y Tres leches. Talk:Zeeman. Books by Veronica Roth. Credits my Divergent identity is more important than I could have known. . experience, most Divergent can't resist the truth serum.
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Chapter Forty-Three. Chapter Forty-Four. Chapter Forty-Five. Chapter Forty-Six. Chapter Forty-Seven. Acknowledgments. Praise. Other Books by Veronica Roth. Allegiant by Veronica Roth Extract - Free download as PDF File .pdf), Text File . txt) or read online for free. What if your whole world was a lie? The thrillingly. Insurgent by Veronica Roth - Free download as PDF File .pdf), Text File .txt) or read online for free. Read an excerpt from Insurgent by Veronica Roth.
Maybe on special occasions only. Initiation days, Choosing Days. I pause. I was about to rattle off a few more holidays, but only the Abnegation celebrate them. The Dauntless have holidays of their own, I assume, but I dont know what they are.
And anyway, the idea that we would celebrate anything right now is so ludicrous I dont continue. Its a deal. His smile fades. How are you, Tris? Its not a strange question, after what weve been through, but I tense up when he asks it, worried that hell somehow see into my mind.
I havent told him about Will yet. I want to, but I dont know how. Just the thought of saying the words out loud makes me feel so heavy I could break through the floorboards.
I shake my head a few times. I dont know, Four. Im awake. I am still shaking my head. He slides his hand over my cheek, one finger anchored behind my ear. Then he tilts his head down and kisses me, sending a warm ache through my body.
I wrap my hands around his arm, holding him there as long as I can. When he touches me, the hollowed-out feeling in my chest and stomach is not as noticeable. I dont have to tell him. I can just try to forgethe can help me forget. I know, he says. I shouldnt have asked. For a moment all I can think is, How could you possibly know? But something about his expression reminds me that he does know something about loss. He lost his mother when he was young. I dont remember how she died, just that we attended her funeral.
Suddenly I remember him clutching the curtains in his living room, about nine years old, wearing gray, his dark eyes shut. The image is fleeting, and it could be my imagination, not a memory.
He releases me. Ill let you get ready. The womens bathroom is two doors down. The floor is dark brown tile, and each shower stall has wooden A sign on the back wall says remember: The stream of water is cold, so I wouldnt want the extra minutes even if I could have them. I wash quickly with my left hand, leaving my right hand hanging at my side.
The pain medicine Tobias gave me worked fastthe pain in my shoulder has already faded to a dull throb. When I get out of the shower, a stack of clothes waits on my bed. It contains some yellow and red, from the Amity, and some gray, from the Abnegation, colors I rarely see side by side. If I had to guess, I would say that one of the Abnegation put the stack there for me. Its something they would think to do.
I pull on a pair of dark red pants made of denimso long I have to roll them up three timesand a gray Abnegation shirt that is too big for me. The sleeves come down to my fingertips, and I roll them up too.
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It hurts to move my right hand, so I keep the movements small and slow. Someone knocks on the door. The soft voice is Susans. I open the door for her.
She carries a tray of food, which she sets down on the bed. I search her face for a sign of what she has losther father, an Abnegation leader, didnt survive the attackbut I see only the placid determination Im sorry the clothes dont fit, she says.
Im sure we can find some better ones for you if the Amity allow us to stay. Theyre fine, I say. Thank you. I heard you were shot. Do you need my help with your hair? Or your shoes? I am about to refuse, but I really do need help. Yes, thank you. I sit down on a stool in front of the mirror, and she stands behind me, her eyes dutifully trained on the task at hand rather than her reflection.
They do not lift, not even for an instant, as she runs a comb through my hair. And she doesnt ask about my shoulder, how I was shot, what happened when I left the Abnegation safe house to stop the simulation. I get the sense that if I were to whittle her down to her core, she would be Abnegation all the way through. Have you seen Robert yet? I say. Her brother, Robert, chose Amity when I chose Dauntless, so he is somewhere in this compound.
I wonder if their reunion will be anything like Calebs and mine. Briefly, last night, she says. I left him to grieve with his faction as I grieve with mine. It is nice to see him again, though. I hear a finality in her tone that tells me the subject is closed. Its a shame this happened when it did, Susan says.
Our leaders were about to do something wonderful. I dont know. Susan blushes. I just knew that something was happening. I didnt mean to be curious; I just noticed things.
I wouldnt blame you for being curious even if you had been. She nods and keeps combing. I wonder what the Abnegation leadersincluding my fatherwere doing. And I cant help but marvel at Susans assumption that whatever they were doing was wonderful. I wish I could believe that of people again. If I ever did. The Dauntless wear their hair down, right? Sometimes, I say. Do you know how to braid? So her deft fingers tuck pieces of my hair into one braid that tickles the middle of my spine.
I stare hard at my reflection until she finishes. I thank her when shes done, and she leaves with a small smile, closing the door behind her. I keep staring, but I dont see myself. I can still feel her fingers brushing the back of my neck, so much like my My eyes wet with tears, I rock back and forth on the stool, trying to push the memory from my mind.
I am afraid that if I start to sob, I will never stop until I shrivel up like a raisin. I see a sewing kit on the dresser. In it are two colors of thread, red and yellow, and a pair of scissors. I feel calm as I undo the braid in my hair and comb it again. I part my hair down the middle and make sure that it is straight and flat.
I close the scissors over the hair by my chin. How can I look the same, when shes gone and everything is different? I cant. I cut in as straight a line as I can, using my jaw as a guide. The tricky part is the back, which I cant see very well, so I do the best I can by touch instead of sight.
Locks of blond hair surround me on the floor in a semicircle. I leave the room without looking at my reflection again. When Tobias and Caleb come to get me later, they stare at me like I am not the person they knew yesterday. You cut your hair, says Caleb, his eyebrows high.
Grabbing hold of facts in the midst of shock is very Erudite of him. His hair sticks up on one side from where Yeah, I say. Fair enough. We walk down the hallway together. The floorboards creak beneath our feet.
I miss the way my footsteps echoed in the Dauntless compound; I miss the cool underground air. But mostly I miss the fears of the past few weeks, rendered small by my fears now.
We exit the building. The outside air presses around me like a pillow meant to suffocate me. It smells green, the way a leaf does when you tear it in half. Does everyone know youre Marcuss son? Caleb says. The Abnegation, I mean? Not to my knowledge, says Tobias, glancing at Caleb. And I would appreciate it if you didnt mention it.
I dont need to mention it. Anyone with eyes can see it for themselves. Caleb frowns at him. How old are you, anyway? And you dont think youre too old to be with my little sister? Tobias lets out a short laugh. She isnt your little anything. Stop it. Both of you, I say. A crowd of people in yellow walks ahead of us, toward a wide, squat building The sunlight reflecting off the panes feels like a pinch to my eyes. I shield my face with my hand and keep walking.
The doors to the building are wide open. Around the edge of the circular greenhouse, plants and trees grow in troughs of water or small pools. Dozens of fans positioned around the room serve only to blow the hot air around, so I am already sweating. But that fades from my mind when the crowd before me thins and I see the rest of the room.
In its center grows a huge tree. Its branches are spread over most of the greenhouse, and its roots bubble up from the ground, forming a dense web of bark. In the spaces between the roots, I see not dirt but water, and metal rods holding the roots in place. I should not be surprisedthe Amity spend their lives accomplishing feats of agriculture like this one, with the help of Erudite technology.
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Standing on a cluster of roots is Johanna Reyes, her hair falling over the scarred half of her face. I learned in Faction History that the Amity recognize no official leaderthey vote on everything, and the result is usually close to unanimous.
They are like many parts of a single mind, and Johanna is their mouthpiece. The Amity sit on the floor, most with their legs crossed, in knots and clusters that vaguely resemble the tree roots to me. The Abnegation sit in tight rows a few yards to my My eyes search the crowd for a few seconds before I realize what Im looking for: I swallow hard, and try to forget.
Allegiant by Veronica Roth Extract
Tobias touches the small of my back, guiding me to the edge of the meeting space, behind the Abnegation. Before we sit down, he puts his mouth next to my ear and says, I like your hair that way. I find a small smile to give him, and lean into him when I sit down, my arm against his.
Johanna lifts her hands and bows her head. All conversation in the room ceases before I can draw my next breath. All around me the Amity sit in silence, some with their eyes closed, some with their lips mouthing words I cant hear, some staring at a point far away.
Every second chafes. By the time Johanna lifts her head I am worn to the bone. We have before us today an urgent question, she says, which is: How will we conduct ourselves in this time of conflict as people who pursue peace? Every Amity in the room turns to the person next to him or her and starts talking.
How do they get anything done?
I say, as the minutes of chatter wear on. They dont care about efficiency, Tobias says. They care about agreement. Two women in yellow dresses a few feet away rise and join a trio of men. A young man shifts so that his small circle becomes a large one with the group next to him. All around the room, the smaller crowds grow and expand, and fewer and fewer voices fill the room, until there are only three or four. I can only hear pieces of what they say: PeaceDauntlessEruditesafe houseinvolvement This is bizarre, I say.
I think its beautiful, he says. I give him a look. He laughs a little. They each have an equal role in government; they each feel equally responsible. And it makes them care; it makes them kind. I think thats beautiful.
I think its unsustainable, I say. Sure, it works for the Amity. But what happens when not everyone wants to strum banjos and grow crops? What happens when someone does something terrible and talking about it cant solve the problem? He shrugs. I guess well find out. Eventually someone from each of the big groups stands and approaches Johanna, picking their way carefully over the roots of the big tree.
I expect them to address the rest of us, but instead they stand in a circle with Johanna and the other spokespeople and talk quietly. I begin to get the Theyre not going to let us argue with them, are they, I say.
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I doubt it, he says. We are done for. When everyone has said his or her piece, they sit down again, leaving Johanna alone in the center of the room. She angles her body toward us and folds her hands in front of her. Where will we go when they tell us to leave? Back into the city, where nothing is safe? Our faction has had a close relationship with Erudite for as long as any of us can remember. We need each other to survive, and we have always cooperated with each other, says Johanna.
But we have also had a strong relationship with Abnegation in the past, and we do not think it is right to revoke the hand of friendship when it has for so long been extended. Her voice is honey-sweet, and moves like honey too, slow and careful.
I wipe the sweat from my hairline with the back of my hand. We feel that the only way to preserve our relationships with both factions is to remain impartial and uninvolved, she continues. Your presence here, though welcome, complicates that. Here it comes, I think. We have arrived at the conclusion that we will establish our faction headquarters as a safe house for members of all factions, she says, under a set of conditions. The first is that no weaponry of any kind is allowed on the compound.
The second is that if any serious conflict arises, whether verbal or physical, all involved parties will be asked to leave. The third is that the conflict may not be discussed, even privately, within the confines of this compound.
And the fourth is that everyone who stays here must contribute to the welfare of this environment by working. We will report this to Erudite, Candor, and Dauntless as soon as we can. Her stare drifts to Tobias and me, and stays there. You are welcome to stay here if and only if you can abide by our rules, she says. That is our decision. I think of the gun I hid under my mattress, and the tension between me and Peter, and Tobias and Marcus, and my mouth feels dry.
I am not good at avoiding conflict. We wont be able to stay long, I say to Tobias under my breath. A moment ago, he was still faintly smiling. Now the corners of his mouth have disappeared into a frown. No, we wont. My fingers brush over the trigger, and my throat tightens like I am having an allergic reaction. I withdraw my hand and kneel on the edge of the bed, taking hard swallows of air until the feeling subsides. What is wrong with you? Pull it together. And that is what it feels like: I feel suffocated, but at least I feel strong.
I see a flicker of movement in my periphery, and look out the window that faces the apple orchard.
Johanna Reyes and Marcus Eaton walk side by side, pausing at the herb garden to pluck mint leaves from their stems. I am I sprint through the building so that I dont lose them. Once I am outside, I have to be more careful. I walk around the far side of the greenhouse and, after I see Johanna and Marcus disappear into one row of trees, I creep down the next row, hoping the branches will hide me if either of them looks back.
Is it just that Jeanine finally finished planning it, and acted, or was there an inciting incident of some kind? I see Marcuss face through a divided tree trunk. He presses his lips together and says, Hmm. I suppose well never know. Johanna raises her good eyebrow. Will we? No, perhaps not.
Johanna places her hand on his arm and turns toward him. I stiffen, afraid for a moment that she will see me, but she looks only at Marcus. I sink into a crouch and crawl toward one of the trees so that the trunk will hide me. The bark itches my spine, but I dont move. But you do know, she says. You know why she attacked when she did. I may not be Candor anymore, but I can still tell when someone is keeping the truth from me.
Inquisitiveness is self-serving, Johanna. If I were Johanna, I would snap at him for a comment like that, but she says kindly, My faction depends on me to advise them, and if you know information this crucial, it is important that I know it also so that I can share it with them. Im sure you can understand that, Marcus. There is a reason you dont know all the things I know. A long time ago, the Abnegation were entrusted with some sensitive information, says Marcus.
Jeanine attacked us to steal it. And if I am not careful, she will destroy it, so that is all I can tell you. But surely No, Marcus cuts her off. This information is far more important than you can imagine. Most of the leaders of this city risked their lives to protect it from Jeanine and died, and I will not jeopardize it now for the sake of sating your selfish curiosity. Johanna is quiet for a few seconds. Its so dark now I can barely see my own hands. The air smells like dirt and apples, and I try not to breathe it too loudly.
Im sorry, says Johanna. I must have done something to make you believe I am not trustworthy. The last time I trusted a faction representative with this information, all my friends were murdered, he replies. I dont trust anyone anymore. I cant help itI lean forward so that I can see around the trunk of the tree. Both Marcus and Johanna are too preoccupied to notice the movement. They are close together, but not touching, and Ive never seen Marcus look so tired or Johanna so angry.
But her face softens, and she touches Marcuss arm again, this time with a light caress. In order to have peace, we must first have trust, says Johanna. So I hope you change your mind. Remember that I have always been your friend, Marcus, even when you did not have many to speak of. She leans in and kisses his cheek, then walks to the end of the orchard. Marcus stands for a few seconds, apparently stunned, and starts toward the compound. The revelations of the past half hour buzz in my mind.
I thought Jeanine attacked the Abnegation to seize power, but she attacked them to steal informationinformation only they knew. Then the buzzing stops as I remember something else Marcus said: Most of the leaders of this city risked their lives for it. Was one of those leaders my father? I have to know. I have to find out what could possibly be important enough for the Abnegation to die forand the Erudite to kill for.
I pause before knocking on Tobiass door, and listen to whats going on inside. No, not like that, Tobias says through laughter.
What do you mean, not like that? I imitated you perfectly. The second voice belongs to Caleb. You did not. Well, do it again, then.
I push open the door just as Tobias, who is sitting on the floor with one leg stretched out, hurls a butter knife at the opposite wall. It sticks, handle out, from a large hunk of cheese they positioned on top of the dresser. Caleb, standing beside him, stares in disbelief, first at the cheese and then at me. Tell me hes some kind of Dauntless prodigy, says Caleb. Can you do this too?
He looks better than he did earlierhis eyes arent red anymore and some of the old spark of curiosity is in them, like he is interested in the world again.
His brown hair is tousled, his shirt buttons in the wrong buttonholes. He is handsome in a careless way, my brother, like he has no idea what he looks like most of the time. With my right hand, maybe, I say.
But yes, Four is some kind of Dauntless prodigy. Can I ask why youre throwing knives at cheese? Tobiass eyes catch mine on the word Four. Caleb Caleb came by to discuss something, Tobias says, leaning his head against the wall as he looks at me. And knife-throwing just came up somehow. As it so often does, I say, a small smile inching its way across my face.
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Find out more about HarperCollins and the environment at www. Illogical thought processes must be challenged when they arise. Wrong answers must be corrected. Correct answers must be affirmed. From the Erudite faction manifesto chap ter one Tr i s 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. 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.
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. I hate this place. It isnt as clean as it was when it was the Erudite compound; now it is ravaged by war, bullet holes in the walls and the broken glass of shattered lightbulbs everywhere.
Divergent, Insurgent and Allegiant
I walk over dirty footprints and beneath flickering lights to her cell and I am admitted without question, because I bear the factionless symbolan empty circleon a black band around my arm and Evelyns features on my face.
Tobias Eaton was a shameful name, and now it is a powerful one. Tris crouches on the ground inside, shoulder to shoulder with Christina and diagonal from Cara. My Tris should look pale and smallshe is pale and small, after allbut instead the room is full of her. Her round eyes find mine and she is on her feet, her arms wound tightly around my waist and her face against my chest. I squeeze her shoulder with one hand and run my other hand over her hair, still surprised when her hair stops above her neck instead of below it.
I was happy when she cut it, because it was hair for a warrior and not a girl, and I knew that was what she would need. Howd you get in? Im Tobias Eaton, I say, and she laughs. I keep forgetting. She pulls away just far enough to look at me.
There is a wavering expression in her eyes, like she is a heap of leaves about to be scattered by the wind. Whats happening? What took you so long? She sounds desperate, pleading. For all the horrible memories this place carries for me, it carries more for her, the walk to her execution, her brothers betrayal, the fear serum.
I have to get her out. Cara looks up with interest. I feel uncomfortable, like I have shifted in my skin and it doesnt quite fit anymore. I hate having an audience. Evelyn has the city under lockdown, I say.
No one goes a step in any direction without her say-so. A few days ago she gave a speech about uniting against our oppressors, the people outside.
Christina says. She takes a vial from her pocket and dumps the contents into her mouth painkillers for the bullet wound in her leg, I assume. I slide my hands into my pockets. Evelynand a lot of people, actuallythink we shouldnt leave the city just to help a bunch of people who shoved us in here so they could use us later. They want to try to heal the city and solve our own problems instead of leaving to solve other peoples.
Im paraphrasing, of course, I say. I suspect that opinion is very convenient for my mother, because as long as were all contained, shes in charge. The second we leave, she loses her hold. Tris rolls her eyes.They are close together, but not touching, and Ive never seen Marcus look so tired or Johanna so angry.
Johannas eyes fix on my face, and she smiles crookedly. We will report this to Erudite, Candor, and Dauntless as soon as we can. Nonstop, adrenaline-heavy action. We are not people who touch each other carelessly; every point of contact between us feels important, a rush of energy and relief.