“Briar Greyson, in the bedroom, with the letter opener.”

“Love is like the wild rose-briar; Friendship like the holly-tree. The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms, but which will bloom most constantly?”

“Jane Greyson had once told me that my voice was one of the Ancients—old and wise.”

“Love is like the wild rose-briar;Friendship like the holly-tree.The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms,But which will bloom most constantly?The wild rose-briar is sweet in spring,Its summer blossoms scent the air;Yet wait till winter comes again,And who will call the wild-briar fair?Then, scorn the silly rose-wreath now,And deck thee with holly's sheen,That, when December blights thy brow,He still may leave thy garland green.”

“At last Niko dropped his hands, and opened his eyes. His perfect tree illusion solidified and settled."Very nice," said Briar with approval. "Couldn't have done better myself""Couldn't do it at all yourself," muttered Tris.Briar ignored her. "But you'd never find a cork oak in these parts. Too cold."Niko looked down his nose at the boy. "I beg your pardon?"Briar shrugged. "Just thought I'd mention it."Niko glared.”

“I smiled. I was starting to like being called Briar Rose.”