Chapter 30: Into the Depths

"No word yet from Leona?" asked Cary.

Gathered around the dining table, Cary sat with Lucy, Matt, and Bryan, everyone all dressed up in their Academy uniforms. They had all just finished a class together and were recuperating with food before the next class could begin. Although the women at the table asserted the hour could only lend the name "brunch" to the meal before them, Bryan insisted that it was still too early for brunch. In fact, he claimed, what they were eating was "second breakfast." Brunch was still an hour away, and lunch would follow soon after. He looked forward to following every class with a meal as long as the schedule would allow it, and sometimes even if the schedule didn't fit.

"Not yet," Matt said, answering the question presented. "She wanted to plan a get-together for tomorrow, so I hope she figures out the itinerary soon. Not a lot of time left to make travel plans."

"She owns a casino," Bryan said through a mouthful of grilled cheese, "so maybe she also has a private helicopter. You don't need a lot of planning time if you have one of those."

Cary admitted, "That's possible, but it's still weird that she hasn't contacted you, right?"

Matt shrugged. "I don't know. We have spent effectively zero quality time together. I couldn't honestly tell you whether this is within the normal parameters of her behavior or not."

"Why not ask Dr. Arbus?" she suggested. "He knew your mom way back when. Maybe he can offer some insight."

Only half-listening to Matt's continuing drama over his biological parents, Bryan became cognizant to his girlfriend's gaze fixed on him. Slowly he turned his head toward her and offered a smile. He even went so far as to stop chewing long enough for her to say whatever it was that was causing her to make that face.

"Bryan, you didn't move my tampons, did you?"

Immediately Bryan shuddered, loudly and obnoxiously.

"Oh, hush," Lucy scolded. "It's not a big deal that I bleed once a month." His shudder repeated even more violently. He knocked his glass to the edge of the table. "Men. You're all so pathetic the minute you realize a woman has a healthy body."

"To be fair," Matt said, "he appreciates your body. He just can't handle the idea of bleeding every month by design. It's icky and a bizarre quirk of nature."

Bryan patted Matt on the shoulder. "Thanks for agreeing with me, bro."

"I don't agree with you," Matt protested. "Big difference between understanding and agreeing. You're a freak for letting the menstrual cycle give you the heebie jeebies." He went back to eating his oatmeal as if he had never been part of that conversation.

Cary made a face. "You're one to talk about quirks of nature, Spirit Boy. How is the bird-god doing these days?"

Matt was silent and looked off to his side. There was nothing there as far as Bryan could see. "He says he wishes you would stop calling him that. Even without asking for praise and worship, he feels it is disrespectful." His eyes darted back to the group. "Honestly, I don't think it bothers him that much to be teased. More, he dislikes being reminded of his divinity. If you referred to him as Bird Man, perhaps, he would draw no offense from the jibe."

"And you'd both be open to litigation from Michael Keaton," joked Bryan.

Cary glowered at him. "Bloody tampons." Two simple words were enough to make Bryan retch.

Bryan's stomach was saved as Darius Mantzios approached the table holding a slip of paper in hand. He stood with perfect posture, showing off how keenly his uniform was pressed. It looked cleaner than on anyone else at the school, almost like he had it dry-cleaned on a weekly basis. Hard to believe all he did was iron it himself.

"Good morning, everyone," he said. As they returned greetings, he dropped the paper in front of Bryan. "Dr. Lankford asked me to deliver that to you."

"A duel request," Cary noticed. She recognized the format immediately. Duel Academy only used Old English Text fonts for official duel requests—the kind that took place during the mandatory area duels. It wasn't often that Bryan received requests anymore. Since the school year began and he was given the top rank, he went through approximately two months of constant challenges, never yielding. Since then, it was rare anyone was confident enough to retry.

"Who's it from?" asked Lucy.

"Nathan Zislaw," Bryan answered. He frowned. "I can't even remember who that is."

Matt said, "He's the one who sleeps in class. Well, he does half the time. On days he actually shows up. He's living proof that Dr. Lankford values dueling ability more than grades when selecting residents for the Blue Mansion."

"Not ringing a bell," said Bryan.

"He has long hair for a guy and pulls it straight back into a short ponytail," added Lucy.

Bryan raised an eyebrow. "Ponytail?"

"He's always sleeping or daydreaming or generally lazing about," Cary said. "He doesn't bother to try much at anything because he doesn't like to spend the energy it takes to think too hard."

None of this information jogged Bryan's memory. "And he's a student at this school?"

Just when everyone had given up, Darius said, "Nathan duels using a deck filled with psychic monsters."

"The psychic kid!" Bryan remembered. "Wow. Weird that a guy who only duels when he's forced to would bother challenging me. I wonder what's up."

Lucy smiled. "I guess you'll find out at the area duel today."

"What are the details?" Cary asked. She pointed out sections of the request form where Bryan could see exactly what the challenge was for.

"He didn't check the box for my rank or for my cards," Bryan noted. "I guess it's just an exhibition match. Maybe I'll break out one of my alternate decks just to give it a workout and flex my backup muscle."

"Do not think too lightly of Nathan," said Darius. "If he were to apply himself to his studies, he might be deserving of your rank. I find it likely he will give you a charity run."

The baffled and amused faces around the table were testament to Darius messing up an American idiom, as he was prone to doing. "You mean he'll give me a run for the money?" Colloquialisms are tough. Bryan just hoped Nathan would be, too, or else he was in for a boring afternoon.

Synthia Spencer loved her life at Duel Academy. Sure, being stuck in the Yellow Dorm wasn't what she hoped for, but not everyone could be a top tier duelist all the time. It was only her sophomore year. As long as she studied hard and trained her heart out, she'd rise to the Blue Mansion by next year. Maybe she'd even manage to snag herself one of those god cards everyone was always so excited about!

Dueling life aside, Synthia also appreciated having people around she could be friends with. She had worried about feeling lonely when she first started. At times it felt like she was the only Southern gal in the whole school. There had been a guy in the previous year from Texas she enjoyed chatting with, but he had graduated and moved on to better things. He still sent her emails from time to time to keep in touch and ask about the school. She looked forward to his emails every week. But without his presence, she enjoyed the company of a few fellow duelists in yellow. She and three of the guys from her class gathered in the yellow cafeteria for midday lunch for a reprieve from morning history class with Dr. Arbus. He was fun to listen to but ruthless with his pop quizzes. Nothing helped her recover quite like the cafeteria's grilled cheese sandwiches.

She wasn't prepared for Vic Rocks to approach the table. His type wasn't compatible with her personality. Where she was bubbly and full of fervor, he brought laziness and contempt for hard work. It was a wonder that he managed to find a girl who could overlook his personality in favor of his looks. But that girl happened to be Synthia's roommate Hayley Wilson, and so it wasn't completely unprecedented for Vic to talk to her.

"Hey, Synthia," he said. His tone was off. Not cocky like usual, but reticent and somewhat dejected.

"Hey," she replied. "How are ya?"

"Just wondering if you could answer a question for me," he said.

Synthia shook her head. "I'm not sure where Hayley is right now."

"I'm not worried about that," he said. "She's supposed to meet me here soon. I'm more curious if you think you could stand to be without her for a few nights this weekend."

"Come again?" As rare as it was to hear from Vic, Synthia truly had no clue what he was asking.

He cleared his throat. "I understand if you want her help studying, even though you could make so much more money by joining my Duel Club. But could you let Hayley come with me this weekend? I got her a present with my earnings. It'd be romantic to take her to dinner first, give her the gift, and then maybe take her back to my room. Is that okay?"

Synthia pursed her lips. To Vic it seemed she was upset, but in reality she didn't know whether to poop or go blind. "Hayley told you she was helpin' me study?"

"Yeah. But since it's the weekend, can I have her for a night?" He looked hopeful. Poor boy didn't know his ass from a hole in the ground.

She nodded. "Sure, Vic. I don't mind givin' her up to ya."

He beamed at her. "Thanks, Synthia." Without so much as a goodbye wave, he walked away from the table and joined his own crew of delinquents at the other corner of the cafeteria. She found herself wondering how many classes they had to skip before they were no longer considered full-time students. Maybe they'd even have to stop eating in campus dining halls.

"That was a fruitful conversation," said Maikeru. Changing the subject abruptly, he asked, "Hey, Synthia. What do you think about Cary Strickland?"

"You should give up on her," Sean said. He had heard the conversation before about how great she was and why Maikeru wished he could spend more time with her. "There's no way a girl like Cary Strickland is ever going to give you the time of day. She doesn't even wear a watch."

Maikeru gave that look to Sean—the one that explained without a word how ludicrous it was to think the guy could dress himself each day. "There are other ways to tell time, genius," he said. "I've hung out with Cary before."

"But hanging out isn't the same as asking her out," added Carter Jade through a mouthful of chicken salad. It was rare to see him without food in his hand or at least within arm's reach. He swallowed another bite and apologized for spewing a bit on Sean's sandwich. "Cary is pretty high class. I don't think she'd even be willing to date someone like Matt Luther or Bryan Knight… you know, if they actually wanted to."

"Besides," said Sean, "she's way prettier than you."

Finally Synthia had heard enough. "Now don't you listen to them. Cary don't exactly go walkin' around with her nose all up in the air. You got as much chance with her as anyone else. All you gotta do is be confident and treat her right."

Her words of encouragement brought the beginnings of a smile to Maikeru's face, but Carter wasn't having it. "Are you sure? She's a blue duelist. We all wear yellow."

She didn't like the backtalk. "Listen here," she said, sticking a finger in Carter's face. "If I tell you a duck can pull a truck, then shut up and hook the sucker up! None of that is important to her. And if it is, she's ain't worth the salt in her bread."

Speaking of personal failings, Hayley walked into the cafeteria just then. Synthia quickly stood from the table. "Get her attention with something she likes and then just tell her how ya feel," she told Maikeru. "Maybe she'll go for it. But if she doesn't, then at least you'll know. Excuse me, fellas." As much as she wanted to be the voice of encouragement for her friend, she had some urgent questions for her roommate.

Synthia made a beeline across the floor for her roommate. Hayley had skipped grabbing a lunch tray and was starting off with a cup of coffee. When the school year began, Hayley wasn't a coffee drinker. She rarely consumed any caffeinated beverages, especially if they contained sugar. But apparently now she was leading a double life and needed the extra energy to deal with her late nights.

"Hi, Hayley!" she said with her usual effervescence.

Like always, Hayley balked at her roommate's zeal. "What's up, Synthia?" While technically a probe for information, her query bore a tone of finality to it. Translated, she meant to say, "Leave me alone, Hyper Girl." Synthia didn't take it personally. Her roommate was suffering and needed support.

"I promise not to be long," she said. "Vic came to see me. I think he's looking for you."

Hayley growled, "I know. I'll be right there."

"Why does he think you've been helping me study at night?"

The faraway look in Hayley's eye disappeared. She was suddenly brought into the moment. It wasn't enough to make her say anything yet.

Synthia pushed a little harder. "You told me you were spendin' your nights with Vic at his Duel Club. That's why you don't get back to the dorm until dawn and you sleep 'til lunch. Right? What's really goin' on with you?"

Hayley had been caught in a lie. She didn't have the mental focus she needed in that moment to come up with a more plausible story. Any fairy tale at all would help explain why she lied to both her roommate and her boyfriend in order to stay out all night without any questions. But Synthia could tell that Hayley didn't have anything to say.

"I just want time to myself," Hayley grumbled. She took her coffee and pushed past Synthia. "Excuse me," she said curtly.

"Wait," Synthia called. Hayley didn't stop walking, so Synthia spoke loudly. "If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here for you. You know that." Maybe her words would get through. And if not, it might be time to bring in Dr. Houtz for a little faculty advising.

As always, Dr. Arbus left his door open during his office hours. Three students were inside discussing their displeasure with their recent test scores in Arbus's history class. Matt listened to them give the same tired request for extra credit while their professor suggested they spend less time skipping class. Some students felt that eight a.m. was unfair—that no sane person was capable of getting up that early. Complaints fell on deaf ears, however, as Arbus merely stated factually that the start time will always follow the administrations schedule, and that staying out late to participate in underground dealings was no excuse for sleeping in through class. All three students clammed up immediately, unsure how much Arbus truly knew about the Duel Club. Vic tried his best to instill the importance of secrecy to all who ventured in, but clearly the open door policy that worked so well for the Academy's professors was a poor decision for the underworld.

After the three students shuffled from the office with dejected looks plastered on their faces, Arbus called Matt in. "Always a pleasure, Matthew," he said. "You didn't have to wait in the hall. When the conversation is confidential, students or I will close the door. As long as it stands open, all are welcome."

Matt stepped inside the office and closed the door behind him.

"Oh," Arbus uttered. "Er, this may not be the best time for a harrowing chin wag. My office hours are due to end in five minutes so I have time to work on my committee tasks."

"That's why I came at the end," Matt said. "I need to ask about my mother."

Arbus nodded and sat back in his leather office chair. "I suspected this would not be a friendly chat. What inquiries have you?"

"How much do you know about my mother and where she came from?"

He gave a moment to think, but Arbus responded primarily with a shrug. "Not too much, I'm afraid. We were acquaintances with the odd monetary transaction between us here and there. We actually had a bit of a falling out years past. That time you saw us together at the Denkard was simply two old friends reconnecting."

"What was the fight about?" asked Matt.

"More of a tiff than a fight. Disagreement in opinion over a mutual friend or some such. It's hardly worth dredging up. But if I may ask, why the sudden interest in whom your mother was to me? Haven't you her number? Give her a ring and speak to her yourself."

"I can't," Matt said wryly. "She's 'indisposed.'" He made use of air quotes as he spoke.

"Oh dear," gasped Arbus. "That doesn't sound good at all."

Matt nodded his agreement. "We were supposed to get together this weekend to discuss recent events and perhaps reconnect a little ourselves. Maybe I'd give her the guilt trip over abandoning me to be raised by an abusive, alcoholic bum. Or maybe I'd just revel in the joy of finally knowing my real mother."

Arbus put on a knowing grin. "Sounds like some conflicted emotions set about."

"You don't even know," Matt replied. "But the point is that she never got in touch with me about the details. I can't imagine she would just hop on a plane and fly thousands of miles across the Pacific to surprise me on Academy Island. Kaiba Corp monitors the airspace around here more closely than the FAA monitors D.C."

"Have you tried calling on her?" Arbus asked.

Matt couldn't suppress his sarcasm. "Oh, you mean since she hasn't contacted me like she was supposed to in a reasonable amount of time, I could try contacting her because the place where she works has a telephone and I have a telephone, plus she carries one especially for herself around in her purse. I should just try calling her? I didn't think of that!"

Ahura placed a spiritual hand on Matt's shoulder. Even without physical contact, the touch was soothing and helped to settle his nerves. But it was too late to take back the anger he unleashed in Arbus's direction. If the professor chose to, he could have Matt punished in all kinds of ways. Duel Academy's disciplinary guide included a multitude of options for unruly students. Dr. Lankford seemed to hate Matt for whatever reason and would undoubtedly support any punishment with little to no question.

But Arbus retained his calming smile. "You worry about her."

It was hard not to laugh a little at how well that ended. "Yeah," Matt agreed. "I'm worried."

"She would be pleased to hear it. Tell me what happened when you called."

"Her cell phone is off, as far as I can tell. It goes straight to voicemail without a single ring, but her voicemail is full, which means I can't leave a message. A half-dozen text messages have gone without reply, as well." He sighed. "I called the front desk at the hotel and casino she owns. That limo driver Dexter answered the phone. He says she is on holiday and will return in a week or two. Even when I identified myself as her son and probed him for more information, he treated me like a two-bit bank robber asking after the Queen of England. I'll try again after the night shift starts and hope to get someone else, but I can't foresee any real breakthroughs there."

"I understand your frustration now," said Arbus. "I wish there were more information I could offer, but I have heard nothing from Leona since the Limitations Tournament."

Matt sat there quietly for more than a full minute while Arbus scrutinized him. "There is something you want to ask," he noted.

"It's nothing," said Matt.

"It is filling you with anger and fear. It is something of significant import."

"If I tell you," Matt started, but then he trailed off. He was uncertain how or if he wanted to finish that thought. Arbus continued to wait patiently and attentively. Finally he relented. "The same thing might happen to you."

Arbus furrowed his brow bewildered. "Come again?"

"My mother and I were discussing this group of people," Matt said. Again he trailed off, but he resumed more quickly this time. "The Hellfire Club. They're apparently the most secret society in history. Way more secret than the Duel Club, for sure. I've heard from several sources that the way they remain shrouded in obscurity is to make people disappear who draw attention to them."

With a nod, Arbus realized, "You believe it to be your fault your mother has vanished."

"Yes." A tear formed in the corner of Matt's eye. He tried to blink it away before Arbus could see how scared he was. "I'm sorry to put you in that position." The professor simply waved off the apology as if it were unnecessary.

Now Matt was the one feeling observant. "You had no reaction to that. No flinch or gasp or puzzlement. It's not the first time you've heard about the Hellfire Club, is it?" He checked the door again to make certain it was shut. Satisfied, he leaned closer to the oaken desk. "Are you a member?"

For a moment, Arbus merely sat there grinning, neither confirming nor denying Matt's assertion. When he finally moved, he straightened his back and made a humming sound. "No true member calls it Hellfire. Vague terminology is always bandied about such 'the organization' or 'the business.'"

"Or 'acquaintances,' like you and Leona," Matt deduced.

"Verily."

"Would you know if someone from 'the organization' kidnapped my mother?"

Arbus pursed his lips. "It's possible. I retain a few contacts from my old days of active membership. It is rare one truly leaves, after all. No rumblings of abduction have come my way, but there are some avenues of interest I may pursue. Check back with me tomorrow. Speak to no one about this. While I appreciate your candor with me, you may find yourself too quick to trust if you do not filter your vocabulary."

Matt focused on Arbus's body language. His shoulders were relaxed and aimed straight at his student guest, he leaned back slightly in his chair, and a smile played at his lips. Either he was perfectly trustworthy or he was so perfectly confident in himself it bordered on sociopathic. "Are you going to turn on me?" Matt asked.

"Better," Arbus said. "Trust no one." He swiveled in his chair to face his computer. "And check back with me tomorrow. Perhaps I will have something."

"Tomorrow is Saturday."

"You go to school on a private island. Where is it you think the teachers escape to on the weekends?" The question was obviously rhetorical.

"Good point," Matt agreed. He stood to let himself out while the professor got to the work he scheduled for himself, but then he was struck with one more burning question.

He blurted out, "Do you know who the Overlord of the Hellfire Club is?"

"You mean to ask if I know the identity of the most powerful man in the entire world?" Arbus asked without missing a beat. He looked Matt in the eye. "No, I do not. The Overlord is such a guarded secret I'm amazed you even know of the title. Besides, rumor has it the Diamonds have made a move vying for the title ever since the Overlord went missing."

"He's missing?!" Matt's exclamation was dramatic and betrayed his suspicion that he knew the Overlord's identity.

Arbus didn't seem to notice, or else he ignored it. "It's just a rumor. The Overlord is uncharacteristically quiet these days. Many take that to mean he has abdicated his role without anointing a successor. Others presume he is in preparation of some truly grand scheme."

Matt had not expected to hear that. At the same time his mother vanishes, his brother also fades from the eye of those who would have daily dealings with him. Was there a connection?

First of all, a big thank you goes to Amourenvie for the encouraging review! You all may not realize how much encouragement I get from even the smallest comments. Everything you have to say makes me excited to get into the next chapter.

This chapter is a transition chapter, mostly because that's what I had time for this week. Things keep piling up on me and I'm not budgeting my time for writing as effectively as I once did. My current map puts the remainder of the arc in about seven chapters. It's going to be very full of dueling, and so I am happy to accept help from anyone who wants to offer a timely play-by-play in that realm. (No details needed; just the moves.) The only caveat is that another project of mine is rapidly approaching its deadline, and so I may have to take a brief hiatus from this while I finish. On the plus side, at least finishing the other project will give me more time to devote to quicker updates on this story.

And if none of you have read my profile like Amourenvie did but you're curious about what's next for this story, take a look. I'd love to hear any thoughts on the matter!