Pyre

Chapter 21

TOBIAS POV

There is a hole in the center of the Pit, a mosaic of stone shards that once made up the flat ground. The Dauntless are intrigued by the reminder of the bombing rather than repelled by it; a child dashes under the rope that is supposed to deter people from entering the area, a teenager shoves his friend in the direction of the site with a laugh.

From up here, on the ledges that are situated beneath the Pire, it seems as if everyone has forgotten that we almost suffered a casualty-heavy attack. When the height becomes too much to ignore, I train my gaze across to the parallel walls and upward to the glass ceiling.

"Do you think this is the right idea?" Mike asks. "I mean, what Zeke mentioned about possibly attacking Candor first might be something to think about."

I shake my head in disagreement. "It may be unexpected for the factionless, but if they begin realizing that we are liberating every faction, then they will put all of their power in Erudite. If we take it first, then they won't have any reason to waste all of their resources on Candor because they don't have much strategic use," I explain.

Most of the conference room believed my reasoning, though a select few were hesitant to go along with any idea outright. This is the turning point of the war, and driving the factionless out of Erudite will shift this war back in our favor. So I could understand, especially with the bombing a couple of days ago, why some people had doubts about whether we had devised a perfect plan or not.

If we slip up, Evelyn's next bomb won't miss. We outsmarted her once, and we have to continue our winning streak if we are going to survive.

"You're probably right," Mike sighs. "It's just sick that we can't plan for any of this without considering their next sadistic move."

My jaw tightens as I think of the most recent inventive terror, a factionless man wandering through the Pit, strapped with a bomb. I can't know every person in this faction, but I recognize many of the faces I pass each day, and something was wrong about his appearance. It was me who pointed him out as we stood at a safer level above.

He wasn't positive about his decision. Evelyn's brainwashing suddenly wasn't enough when we aimed our guns and told him not to take another step. But the delay was only momentary, and someone's bullet struck the bomb before he could make it any closer.

All I could think about, as the explosion rang through my ears for hours following, is that the mother who tucked me in at night, who traced imaginary shapes in the air with me on our doorstep when I was a child, is responsible for this. Somehow, she became a monster.

And I don't know if that was instilled in her before she left me or after, or if Marcus had anything to do with it. But I believe that if someone coerces another person to become a walking bomb, then something was always wrong with them.

Does that change the fact of who she once was in my eyes? Does that change the fact that the child in me doesn't want his mother to die, even though the adult does because he doesn't recognize her?

I shake my head and swerve away from the subject. "They shouldn't be expecting this. They won't have something like that planned," I try to convince Mike, and myself. "We're leaving them an escape if they want it; they won't be desperate enough to lash out."

Mike scuffs his shoe against the stone. "Let's hope."

The conversation diverts from the upcoming fight and to more menial duties. That is when I decide to ask my personal favor.

"So..." I clear my throat. "Tris and I are engaged—"

"Congratulations," he interrupts, genuinely glad to hear but unsurprised, almost stating it as a fact.