The rest of the journey went slowly, but steadily. They arrived at a large door after two days, the lady feeling much better.
Dante inspected the door, before attempting to push it open. It didn't budge. He pushed it harder. Damn.
He pulled out his sword to slash it, forgetting for a moment who was with him. If the stupid door wouldn't open, he'd just remove the door.
"Wait!" the lady said, "There's a path this way."
"And?" Dante asked, not lowering his sword.
"And it might lead to a backdoor."
"You think a dragon's lair might have a back door?" he clarified. He thought about it, and supposed she could be right. He sheathed his sword and gestured for her to lead the way. The path didn't lead to a back door, but it did lead to what must have been the garbage pit. It smelled like death, likely due to the corpses. Her hand went to cover her nose and Dante mirrored her.
"Well, you found a dumping pit," Dante said, kicking a mostly naked human-looking skull away from him. "Don't see a backdoor."
"How did they get all of this here?" the lady asked, "Would a dragon pick up each little limb and piece of armor and drop it here?"
While dragons were known to be meticulous, Dante also knew they were almost hypocritically lazy at the same time.
"Could the dragon have made those trolls or wraiths clean up for it?"
"Perhaps…" Dante thought it through, "The front door is probably booby trapped, it would be a pain to reset the traps each time they needed to take out the trash…"
"So there must be a back door!" the lady said.
"If the front door is booby trapped," Dante cavated, "You ought to have let me stab it."
The lady searched the clearing, only dry heaving once. Dante had to give it to her, she had a strong stomach. They were stuck looking under rocks and into shallow caves until an arm skipped into the clearing. Dante and the lady followed it to see a wraith frozen and then floated down to attack them. The lady was quicker than Dante at drawing her spear.
With a cry she dove forward, skewering the creature on the steel. After a few more stabs the monster died and the lady glanced back. "Just going to watch?"
"You looked like you had it handled," Dante answered, "Why? Did you need my help?"
She holstered the spear and wiped her bangs out of her face. "Not with that. But give me a boost, I'll pull you up."
Off the ground a good eight or nine feet was the opened passage the wraith had traveled through. That was on Dante, he should've looked up.
This would be the perfect time to ditch this lady, Dante thought, before she marched over to the shoot and looked at him expectantly.
"You'll pull me up?" Dante asked, but decided to amuse her. He all but threw her up and then waited for her to try and drag him up. To his surprise, she was able to lift him.
The shoot was large enough for three men to walk abreast, forcing Dante to wonder just who had designed the lair. Most dragons took a lot of pride in their lair design after all, and giving it a maintenance shaft for convenience did not sound like a dragon.
Dante supposed the lair likely hadn't been built by a real dragon, but an imitator.
The light slowly faded which didn't bother Dante too badly. He couldn't see in pitch black, but he had better night vision than a normal human. "We need a torch," the lady said, "let me get my flint."
Dante rolled his eyes and grabbed her wrist. She jumped at the contact and he said, "Just let me, I can lead the way."
"You can see?" she asked.
"Yup," he answered, not elaborating. At the first fork he stopped and wondered if he should do anything more than guess.
"What is it?" the lady asked.
"Fork in the road," he said.
"Go left," she told him.
"Any reason for that?"
"Woman's intuition," came her almost teasing answer.
Not having anything better to suggest, they took the left path. They came to some sort of kitchen. It was deserted, but cook fires provided some illumination.
"A kitchen?" the lady asked, peering into one of the cauldron bubbling. She reeled away and retched.
"Let's keep going. I doubt the lord of this place would visit the kitchens often."
The lady agreed and followed him. Dante didn't notice the light levels drop again until the lady grabbed his cloak. He was relieved she couldn't see the smirk on his face, as she probably would've yelled at him.
There were a few more wraiths that were easy enough to dispatch. What was more difficult was when a static entered the air. It was like the air before a thunderstorm. In the distance there was harp music lilting through halls. Dante decided to follow it.
They entered a great hall with ghostly lights. The lady squinted and asked, "Sir Dante, what's here?"
The harp music stopped abruptly. A feminine form rose from the shadows away from the harp. Her long red hair was her only form of modesty beside the darkness around her. Bats chittered in the rafters and the lady tensed. Dante guessed what this monster was, and knew he should be fine. The lady on the other hand…
He glanced at her. Well, if she croaked now it just meant she wouldn't be able to kill a dragon after all. The mostly naked woman seemed to scent the air.
"A human and… oh my… another son of Sparda."
"Old friend of the family?" Dante asked, at least appearing unconcerned even while the lady drew her crossbow. "Don't suppose you could point us in the way of the owner of this rather lame lair."
"Perhaps I can," the vampiress said, "if you can satisfy me."
"Satisfy you?" Dante asked, even as he allowed her to wile him closer, "And how could I do that?"
She giggled, and the lady seemed too astonished by his reaction to say anything.
The vampiress sauntered closer reaching out with a pale bloodless hand. "I think you should know…"
"Do I?"
She leaned in as if for a kiss, but no amount of supernatural charm could cover the smell of death on her breath. In a flash he stabbed her through her chest, hoping he pierced her heart. Undead creatures could be such a pain to kill.
The shadows melted off the blade and Dante cursed.
"Your father was a better charmer!" she hissed, at the room was suddenly bright with lightning.
"Lady!" Dante shouted behind him, "stay on your toes!"
With that he dove into battle. The lightning was a pain, as was the whole corporeal/incorporeal thing. It was like trying to fight a storm cloud. As he struggled through the battle, the air was suddenly filled with harp music. An odd accompaniment to such a difficult battle.
A lightning bolt hit him and Dante was pretty sure his heart stopped for a moment, and in that electrifying moment he knew he was wide open. Before he felt her vicious teeth start to tear into him, something thudded into his back. He turned and saw the vampiress frozen with a surprised look in her eye. Erupted through her chest was a crossbow bolt, and Dante knew what that thunk from earlier. Dante grabbed the bolt and pulled it the rest of the way through her body. The lightning stopped and the room plunged into darkness. Dante stepped back and let the no longer undead corpse drop to the ground.
The harp music stopped with a twang as a string snapped, and Dante glanced behind to see the lady lowering her crossbow.
"You shot at me?" he asked.
"You're wearing plate armor," the lady said, "and it got the job done. Unless you're upset that I killed that… thing."
She had a point. There was also the fact he was pretty sure a crossbow bolt wouldn't kill him. Still, it was the principle of the thing. "Why? Jealous?" he asked cheekily. She scoffed.
He wiped the bolt off on his cloak. "Here," he said, and passed it back to her, taking in the room. It had a few other doors and with a curse he realized something. "She never told us where to go."
"If this is a concert hall, we're probably out of the servant's quarter," the lady said, redrawing her crossbow, "I don't know where a dragon would put his reception room or hoard, but I imagine it's nearby."
"Huh," he commented, "that does make sense. Let's get going then."
As they walked, the lady asked him, "She mentioned your father… is he someone important?"
"He used to be," he said.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, "was he killed alongside your mother?"
"Nope," Dante said, "I don't actually know what killed him. I was pretty young."
The lady didn't seem to know what to say. In an effort to change the topic, she said, "I've never seen a monster like that before, for a moment that I thought you were…"
"Enthralled?" he asked, trying a door to find a closet. He frowned. "She probably thought she got me too. Word of advice for those types of creatures… they'll never be satisfied. They have a thirst that will never be quenched."
The lady nodded. "Face them before?"
"When I was lot younger and a lot-well, I think you can puzzle that out."
"You found out the hard way?" she surmised.
"More ways than one," he said.
"You're gross," she declared, "this whole adventure has been gross."
He laughed at her indignation, and the sound echoed down the hallway. Her grit was one to be admired, but he wondered if this would be her last adventure. He couldn't exactly blame her if it were.
"Slaying dragons is rather dirty work you know," he reminded her.
"I know that," she bit, "you keep underestimating me, and I've saved your life twice now."
Dante didn't think either of those situations would have killed him, but he supposed as far as she knew they could've. "And I saved your life once, and I had that last one handled. I say we're even."
She narrowed her eyes. "Fine," she said, "even."
They walked in quiet for a bit, making a few turns around the twisting hallways. Besides the odd wraith, it was rather empty. Dante knew this was just the calm before the storm.