"It's funny," she said. "The last time I was here…"
Byam braced itself. I saw an imugi trying to ascend, she was going to say. It faceplanted on the side of a mountain, it was hilarious!
"I was standing here wishing I was dead," said Leslie.
"What?"
"Not seriously," said Leslie hastily. "I mean, I wouldn't have done anything. I just wanted it to stop."
"What did you want to stop?"
"Everything," said Leslie. "I don't know. I was young. I was having a hard time. It all felt too much to cope with."
Humans lived for such a short time anyway, it had never occurred to Byam that they might want to hasten the end. "You don't still…"
"Oh no. It was a while ago." Leslie was still looking at Byam's mountain. She smiled. "You know, I got a sign while I was up here."
"A sign," echoed Byam.
"It probably sounds stupid," said Leslie. "But I saw an imugi. It made me think there might be hope. I started going to therapy. Finished my PhD. Things got better."
"Good," said Byam. It met Leslie's eyes. She had never stopped looking at Byam as though it was special.
Leslie pressed her lips to Byam's mouth.
Byam stayed still. It wasn't sure what to do.
"Sorry. I'm sorry!" Leslie stepped back, looking panicked. "I don't know what I was thinking. I thought maybe – of course we're both women, but I thought maybe that didn't matter to you guys. Or maybe you were even into – I was imagining things. This is so embarrassing. Oh God."
Byam had questions. It picked just one to start with. "What were you doing? With the mouths, I mean."
Leslie took a deep breath and blew it out. "Oh boy." But the explanation proved to be straightforward.
"Oh, it was a mating overture," said Byam.
"I – yeah, I guess you could put it that way," said Leslie. "Listen, I'm sorry I even… I don't want to have ruined everything. I care about you a lot, as a friend. Can we move on?"
"Yes," Byam agreed. "Let's try again."
"Phew, I'm really glad you're not – what?"
"I didn't know what you were doing earlier," explained Byam. "You should've said. But I'll be better now I understand it."
Leslie stared. Byam started to feel nervous.
"Do you not want to kiss?" it said.
"No," said Leslie. "I mean, yes?"
She reached out tentatively. Byam squeezed her hand. It seemed to be the right thing to do, because Leslie smiled.
"OK," she said.
§
After a while Byam moved into Leslie's apartment. It had been spending the nights off the coast, but the waters by the city smelled of diesel and the noise from the ships made its sleep fitful. Leslie's bed was a lot more comfortable than the watery deeps.
Living with her meant Byam had to be in celestial fairy form all the time, but it was used to it by now. At Leslie's request, it turned down the heavenly glow.
"You don't mind?" said Leslie. "Humans aren't used to the halo."
"Nah," said Byam. "It's not like I had the glow before." It froze. "I mean… in heaven, everyone is illuminated, so you stop… noticing it?"
Fortunately, Leslie wasn't listening. She had opened an envelope and was staring at the letter in dismay.
"He's raising the rent again! Oh, you're fucking kidding me." She took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. "I need to get out of this city."
"What is rent?" said Byam.
Which was how Byam ended up getting a job. Leslie tried to discourage it at first. Even once Byam wore her down and she admitted it would be helpful if Byam also paid “rent,” she seemed to think it was a problem that Byam was undocumented.
That was an explanation that took an extra long time. The magic to invent the necessary records was simple in comparison.
"'Byam'," said Leslie, studying its brand-new driver's licence. "That's an interesting choice."
"It's my name," said Byam absently. It was busy magicking up an immunization history.
"That's your name?" said Leslie. She touched the driver's licence with reverent fingers. "Byam."
She seemed unaccountably pleased. After a moment she said, "You never told me your name before."
"Oh," said Byam. Leslie was blushing. "You could have asked!"
Leslie shrugged. "I didn't want to force it. I figured you'd tell me when you were ready."
"It's not because – I would've told you," said Byam. "I just didn't think of it. It's not my real name."
The light in Leslie's face dimmed. "It's not?"
"I mean, it's the name I have," said Byam. It should never have set off down this path. How was it going to explain about dragon-names—the noble, elegant styles, full of meaning and wit, conferred on dragons upon their ascension? Leslie didn't even know Byam was an imugi. She thought Byam had already been admitted to the gates of heaven.
"I'm only a low-level attendant," it said finally. "When I get promoted, I'll be given a real name. One with a good meaning. Like ‘Establish Virtue,’ or ‘Jade Peak,’ or ‘Sunlit Cloud.’"
"Oh," said Leslie. "I didn't know you were working towards a promotion." She hesitated. "When do you think you'll get promoted?"
"In 10,000 years' time," said Byam. "Maybe."
This was a personal joke. Leslie wasn't meant to get it, and she did not. She only gave Byam a thoughtful look. She dropped a kiss on its forehead, just above its left eyebrow.
"I like 'Byam,’" she said. "It suits you."
§
They moved out of the city to the outskirts, where the rent was cheaper and they could have more space. Leslie got a cat, which avoided Byam but eventually stopped hissing at its approach. Leslie went running on the beach in the mornings while Byam swam.
She introduced Byam to those of her family who didn't object to the fact that Byam appeared to be a woman. These did not include Leslie's parents, but there was a sister named Jean, and a niece, Eun-hye, whom Byam taught physics.
Tutoring young humans in physics was Byam's first job, but
