The head swayed to one side, then looked back. The tegulate skin of Dragon’s body bulged and quivered as if it were taking a breath. There was a liquid groaning, then skin and flesh parted like that of a rotten fruit. Unable to hide his reaction Cormac retched at the stench that wafted from the pink vagina of a cave that appeared before him. There were more liquid sounds driven by deep rhythmic pulses. Cormac watched in fascination as a jet of steaming amniot ejected the foetal ball of a manthing wrapped in a caul. The caul burst open, spilling more of the Dragon’s juices. Dracoman; Cormac named it instantly.

‘A trifle dramatic,’ he managed.

The manthing continued to move. It stood, showing no sign of imbalance. Again that sound: something else born; a flattened ellipse. The manthing picked it up and stripped away its caul. Legs dropped down from underneath it. Cormac could hardly believe he was seeing a table. The man approached and placed the table between them.

‘To be human is to be mortal,’ said Dragon. ‘Do you play chess?’

‘Yes, I . . .’

Movement from the table: a bulging, bubbling, like sprouting mushrooms and a Dragon chess set grew from its surface.

‘Your move.’

For a moment Cormac could think of nothing else to say or do. He reached down and took hold of a pawn. The thing writhed in his hand, bit him. He yelled and dropped it. On the board it slithered forwards to a tegulate square.

‘There is always a price for power,’ said Dragon.

Cormac swore, then waited for his opponent’s move, his confusion growing. What the hell was this? Some sort of megalomaniacal game or a test?

He hoped for the latter.

As he thought, he studied his opponent. The dracoman betrayed nothing, even when he suddenly moved and brought his fist down on Cormac’s pawn. Cormac was taken aback.

‘That is not in the rulebook,’ he said, then damned himself for saying it. He knew what Dragon’s reply would be.

‘There are no rules here, just judgments.’

Cormac decided to react. He brought his fist down and crushed his opponent’s king. ‘Check,’ he said dryly, and watched his opponent.

The dracoman stared at the board for a moment, then methodically began to crush every one of Cormac’s pieces. White gore dribbled off the side of the table. Cormac turned towards the head.

‘Surely by now you have enough insight into basic human reactions? You’ve been studying us for centuries,’ he said.

‘Every human is an individual, as you so rightly indicated,’ observed Dragon.