‘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 smelt 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 this 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 it 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 ten thousand 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 get more space. Leslie got a cat, which avoided Byam but eventually stopped hissing at its approach. She 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 sometimes it forgot itself and taught students the Way, which was not helpful for exams. After a narrowly averted disaster with the toilet in their new apartment, it took a plumbing course.
It turned out Byam was good at working with pipes – better, perhaps, than it had ever been at understanding the Way.
At night Byam still dreamt of the past. Or rather, it dreamt of the future – the future as Byam had envisioned it, once upon a time. They were impossible, ecstatic dreams – dreams of scything through the clouds, raindrops clinging to its beard – dreams of chasing the cintamani through the sea, its whiskers floating on a warm current.
But when Byam woke up, its face wet with salt water, Leslie was always there.
*
Byam got home one night and something was wrong. It could tell from the shape of Leslie’s back. When she realized it was there, she raised her head, wiping her face and trying to smile.
‘What happened?’ said Byam.
‘I’ve been—’ The words got stuck. Leslie cleared her throat. ‘I didn’t get tenure.’
Byam had learnt enough about Leslie’s job by now to understand what this meant. It was worse than falling when you were almost at the gates of heaven. It sat down, appalled.
‘Would you like me to eat the committee for you?’ it suggested.
Leslie laughed. ‘No.’ The syllable came out on a sob. She rubbed her eyes. ‘Thanks, baby, but that wouldn’t help.’
‘What would help?’
‘Nothing,’ said Leslie. Then, in a wobbly voice, ‘A hug.’
Byam put its arms around Leslie, but it seemed poor comfort for the ruin of all her hopes. It felt Leslie underestimated the consolation she was likely to derive from the wholesale destruction of her enemies. But this was not the time to argue.
Byam remembered the roaring in its ears as it
