Surprisingly, I slept well, despite the ruminations of the night before. After problem solving and lunch I make my way down to the Watchers. I had bolted down my lunch, barely chewing, much to the others' amusement.
"What the big hurry?" Linus had asked me.
"Nothing, I just want to get to my lab."
"You still haven't told us what you're working on…" probed Stephen.
"That's right, I haven't!"
And with that, I had run off. Though that did leave the lingering question of why I was so eager to get down here.
"Ah, there you are, just in time," smiled Arnold when I entered the Dauntless room. "I have to admit, knife-throwing never gets old." He expands the training room screen to fill his entire wall. The initiates, all dressed in black, are standing together. Even after a just few days, they look tougher than before. Their posture is different - more erect. Some of them are sporting new tattoos. Many of them have bruises on their faces and arms, but it only adds to the air of ruggedness about them. They are gathered around Four, who is holding up a knife and pointing to different parts of the blade and handle. Eric is there as well, but is leaning against the wall, watching the initiates.
"Why is Four teaching them today?" I ask.
On the wall is a row of human-shaped targets. Four launches three knives in quick succession and hits three different targets, dead center.
"That's why," chuckled Arnold. "Eric's terrible at knife throwing, but he'll never let the initiates know that. It takes practice and concentration; Eric could never be bothered with that sort of thing."
Now the initiates are lined up in front of the targets, throwing knife after knife at the targets. Four made it look easy, but most of them miss entirely and the knives fall to the floor. Occasionally, one sticks to the wall, but none with the kind of precision Four displayed. I wonder how long it took him to learn that. He walks back and forth among the initiates, pausing to correct them or guide their arms and wrists. As always, Four fascinates me. Is it that he might be Divergent like me? I'm not sure that's the only reason. Gradually, the initiates' aim improves and they start hitting their targets with more frequency. Their increased confidence is almost visible. As unsettling as some of the revelations about Dauntless have been, there are still moments when I wish I'd chosen differently. This is one of them.
One boy on the end who has failed to hit the target even once runs out of knives. As he walks forward to pick them up, the others stop throwing, but Eric springs off the wall and is shouting at him. He motions to the boy to stand in front of one of the targets, and grabs a knife. The boy is clearly terrified, and appears to be fighting back tears. As Eric pulls his arm back, about to throw, Four grabs his wrist, stopping it in midair. Eric glares at him, but Four is resolute. They argue, and Eric appears to concede. Four takes the knife in his own hand and to my horror throws it at the boy. I dread looking, but I have to. The boy is standing completely still, and the knife is lodged in the target, barely millimeters above his head. Four looks back at Eric, and Eric nods. The boy's chest is heaving with relief, but Four looks mildly ashamed of himself. Eric leaves, and the lesson continues.
"If Eric had thrown that knife that boy would probably be dead." Arnold says, shaking his head. "Still, Eric will find a way to make Four pay for interfering, you'll see." He pauses, squinting at the screen. "All of these interactions are important, and we track them. Why? It's not enough to know who is supposed to be in charge, we also need to track who has influence. Who do people listen to? If war breaks out, we need to know who we could approach."
"Not Eric, I guess." I say.
"Right, definitely not Eric - but maybe Four. He could be reasoned with. Perhaps."
A thought occurs to me and I seize it. "Is that why Jeanine wants him watched?"
Arnold purses his lips, thinking. "It may be one of the reasons, but I don't think it's the only one." He seems disinclined to tell me anymore, and I don't want to raise suspicion by asking any more questions.
Later on as I make my way down the now familiar rock-walled hallway, once again I pass the library. I should be at dinner now. I will be missed, but I am too curious to pass it by one more time. I push on the door, and to my surprise, it yields easily. I glance nervously around the hallway but there is no one in sight. I hold my breath, and enter.
It's the most amazing sight. The library is an enormous cavern at least 20 stories high, and appears to be carved out of solid white stone. Rows upon rows of shelves hold countless books. There is no space that is not filled with them. A network of ladders and staircases led up and down the levels. Who built this?, and why?, I wonder. It looks much older than the rest of the Erudite headquarters.
I quickly climb down one of the ladders and start surveying the books. This appears to be a section on Art History. I wish I knew how the library was organized. It's not as if I can just walk up to the computer and ask for a book about Divergents.
"Are you lost?" I freeze, surprised that I had heard no one approaching. I grope for an Erudite answer and turn around. It is the Guardian who has discovered me. Close up, he appears even older than he had on that first night in Erudite. His face is so deeply lined it almost appears scarred, and even the folds of his blue robes appear ancient.
"I was just curious what was in here."
"I see. We don't get many visitors here anymore, now that all the books have been scanned and uploaded to the Erudite server."
"It's beautiful."
"Yes," he smiles faintly. "I've been blind for fifty years, but I remember. I still know where every book is"
I am surprised by my boldness. "I've heard that you can remember before the Fall."
"I was only a young boy, four or five. I don't remember much, only fragments, like a dream. But still..."
"And you remember the rise of the factions?"
"Yes, my parents were both professors at the University. When it started to get bad, they built this library deep underground, and scoured the city to save as many books as possible. They and the others who founded Erudite were determined to preserve the knowledge of our people. Now they are all gone, of course, and it falls to me to be Guardian. The library used to be the center of life here, but that time is gone. The priorities of our faction have changed." He sighs. "Walk with me?"
I follow him, wondering how he is able to navigate the steep and winding staircases at his age, and without the aid of sight.
"Tell me, young lady, what is your name?'
"Beatrice." As soon as I say it, I realize I should have given a different name.
For at least an hour, we wander the library, the Guardian leading, and me trailing behind, searching the shelves for anything that might contain answers about what I am. He pauses every few minutes to tell me about a section of books, or a particularly interesting single volume. I realize it would take me years to find a book here on my own. Still, it's pleasant to listen to his voice, and I realize with sadness how much I must have missed out on, not knowing any of my own grandparents.
"Well, I suppose you had better run off and get some supper, my dear." To my surprise, I realize we are back at the door through which I had entered. I have so many questions, but it's clear I'm being dismissed. I turn to exit, but as I do so, the Guardian speaks again.
"Beatrice."
"Yes?"
He pulls a small, worn, leather-bound book from a hidden pocket in his robe. "I believe this is the book you were looking for?" It's not a question. He knows. I take it from him, wordlessly, and stuff it into my pocket.
I go straight to my room, knowing Amy and the others will still be at dinner. Only then do I dare take the book from my pocket. There is no title or any other indication of what it is on the outside. When I open it however, the first page reads, "A Brief History of the Factions" by R.C. Prior, PhD.
A/N Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think. I had in mind the library at the Peabody Conservatory when I was imagining the library here. Google it, it's beautiful.
Standard Disclaimer: All rights to Divergent and its characters belong to Veronica Roth.