“Well, well,” he said, in a happy, breathy voice positively brimming with artificial bonhomie and fake sincerity. “Back again, Mr. Taylor? How nice. We’re always happy to welcome back one of our straying sons. What can I get you, Mr. Taylor ? Your usual?”

“No,” I said. “I’m not here for that. I’m here to meet someone.”

His dark red smile widened, just a little. “That’s what they all say. Don’t be shy, Mr. Taylor; you’re amongst friends here. There’s nothing to be ashamed of in the Dragon’s Mouth. Indulge yourself. It’s what we’re here for.”

“It’s not what I’m here for,” I said steadily. “I’m here on business. So stand aside.”

He didn’t move, his unblinking eyes fixed on mine, his gaze full of a malign intensity. “No-one ever leaves the Dragon’s Mouth, Mr. Taylor. Not really. They only pop out for a while, then they come back. Who else knows you as well as us; who else can provide you with what you really need? You belong here, Mr. Taylor; you know you do. Come with me. Let me lead you to your old cubicle. It’s still here. Nothing’s changed. Let me prepare the needle for you and pop up a vein. You never really left; the world outside was just a cruel dream. You’ve always been here, where you belong.”

I laughed right in his face, and he actually fell back a step. “Dream on,” I said. “I’m a lot more than I used to be.”

The Host rallied almost immediately. “Are you sure I can’t offer you a little taste, Mr. Taylor? On the house, of course.”

“Don’t tempt me,” I said.

The Host stepped gracefully to one side, bowing his head, admitting defeat. For the moment.

“Be seeing you, Mr. Taylor.”

“Not if I see you first,” I said to his elegantly retreating back.

I looked around the chamber, and various significant details loomed up out of the slowly swirling smoke. The old place hadn’t changed since I was here last. Hiding from a world that had broken and defeated me, in pretty much every way there was.