an advisory capacity.”

Akiro knew what he was saying. Let Fugisawa take the heat. He

was tempted to go ahead and let him do that, but that would be

cowardly and it would not be fair to Fugisawa. And if they knew

that Yohaku had been consulted, they’d want to know why the

Bureau had not officially stepped in and taken charge. No, much as

he wished he could, he could not avoid taking responsibility.

“I wouldn’t phrase it quite that way, ” he said. “Officially, this is

a Bureau case and the responsibility is mine. If they insist on

speaking with me, tell them I’m out of the office, pursuing the

investigation. Tell them we’re following some leads and we’ll have a

full statement for them shortly, you know the sort of thing.”

“That won’t keep them satisfied for long.”

“Just buy me some time, Mono. At least until I’ve got something I

can tell them.”

“All right. I’ll do my best.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

“Just doing my job.”

“I know, but thank you just the same.”

Mono got up to leave. As he walked out, a man dressed in dark

green sorcerer’s robes appeared at the door. He wore a simple black

tunic suit beneath the open robes and his long black hair fell to his

shoulders. He was slim and good-looking, in his early to mid-forties.

He did not have the manner of a Bureau official.

“Inspector Katayama?”

Akiro stood respectfully. “Yes, I am Katayama. How may I help

you?”

The sorcerer gave him a small bow. “My name is Kanno. I was a

pupil of Master Yokahu’s. He told me that you might be in need of

some assistance.”

Akiro knew who he was now, but that knowledge gave him little

comfort. The man was a highly respected adept, but he was a

thaumagenetic artisan who specialized in creating beautiful and

highly prized magenes for wealthy socialites and prominent figures