Smith didn’t even wince. Actually, I don’t even think he noticed. “I’m just calling it the way it is.” Then he looked at me. “I think it’s safe to assume that you didn’t install this?”
“No, I didn’t.”
He looked at Violetta. “Which means someone else did. And I’d say it was grafted.”
Violetta blinked, then crouched lower, lips quirking in disbelief as she studied the piece of wood. “You’re… right. It is a graft.”
“Graft?” I repeated. “Explain that for the magically illiterate?”
“You’re hardly illiterate,” Violetta said. “This is just a specialized skill set. In our trade, a graft is when you introduce material from one magical set to another. It can be used in a lot of positive ways. Bolster a structure by symbolically infusing it with the strength of another place.”
“It’s a lot more common in alchemical processes,” Smith continued. “Grafting is a very deliberate scientific process. It’s definitely above my pay grade, but my best guess? This was grafted onto the house to serve as an entryway for that kobold. We ought to check your shop as well. I’d put down a twentythat it’s also had something from another place—a piece of wood likely—grafted onto it, as well.”
“And what does the graft do?” I asked.
“It allows the kobold to jump from its home into yours.”
I reached out a trembling hand and touched the shelf. If they were right, this was the door the kobold had used to enter my house and likely there was another one attached to my shop. Someone had sent this thing to scare me. Or worse. But why?
“So you’re saying it would take some know-how to establish a way to let the kobold cross inside?” I checked.
Violetta nodded. “Definitely. It takes serious skill to mix an elixir strong enough to create a channel like this. The original home the kobold is tied to could be hundreds of miles away. Maybe even further, if the practitioner who brewed the graft is powerful enough.”
We were all silent for a stretch, as that sank in. Someone new and powerful was roaming around our Hollow. Someone who didn’t have any qualms about frightening or even harming people in order to get what they were after. That was a dangerous kind of enemy. Add actual skill and a dark motive, and things took a turn into the realm of the scary.
“Someone is harassing me,” I said finally, but with more certainty than I’d felt in weeks. “Someone is doing this because of something I did or something they’re afraid I’ll do. They’re trying to intimidate me. Maybe even test me.”
Smith stood and dusted off his hands. “Then we find out who.”
“And we beat their asses,” Violetta added.
I gave her a smile. “I think the more important question iswhy.Why me? Who would want to do this to me? What’s changed in my life over the past few weeks that warrants this kind of response?”
Aside from Smith’s request for help and the stack of books he’d provided, my life had been trundling along just fine. And then it occurred to me.
“The books,” I said, looking up at him. There had to be something to them; I just knew it. That was really the only thing that had changed in my life in the last couple of weeks.
“What about them?” Smith asked.
“I think they might be the reason that I’m being harassed. Aside from taking on your case, nothing else is new in my life.”
Violetta then looked up at Smith. “Where did you get those books anyway?”
He shrugged. “Garage sale?”
Violetta frowned. “You bought books at a garage sale?”
It was Smith’s turn to frown. “They’re on alchemy,” he answered with a frown. “So, I thought I might save myself some money by trying to create the gemstone myself. But then I got ‘em home and realized they were in German and that sort of ruined the allure.”
“Well, whatever the background on the books, I think the original owner or an owner of the books wants them back. And because this person can’t trespass directly into my home, they put these grafts in place to send the kobold in order to drive me away in a panic.”
“So he can break in,” Violetta finished, expression sour. “Take whatever he wants and then leave you to pick up the mess.”
I nodded. “Right. Let’s just say it’s a he to make things easier.”
“It could be a she,” Smith put in.
“Probably not,” Violetta answered as she smiled up at him and he frowned.
