Riddle V.I.Z.ion

Chapter 17: To Victory! To Death! To The End!

Diz had been awake for all of two seconds before Quiz decked him in the face with a surprisingly staunch left hook. It ranked fairly low on Diz's list of worst ways to wake up, but scored soaringly on his list of most surprising ways to wake up because, as a rule, Quiz didn't hit people—least of all him.

"I am so angry with you!" Quiz shrieked cheerfully, which was genuinely alarming. People should not scream and smile at the same time, but no one had told Quiz this, and so he was going about it with great enthusiasm. "How fucking dare you decide to send me away like that—yes I worked it out! I worked it out as soon as one of the Enquiry drones walked passed me in the dark. I am not stupid!"

Diz gave a slow, disorientated blink, half raising a clumsy hand to his flat, snakelike nose which had started to bleed. When yelling at people, it is generally best to wait until they are properly awake, or are at least capable of understanding that they are being yelled at; this is another lesson Quiz didn't seem too concerned about.

"I am as much a part of this sinking ship as either of you. I have just as much right to die for this stupid, doomed cause as either of you, and how dare you you try to take that from me. I don't need you to spare me because you think I can't take it; I need you to treat me like I'm part of this because I am, and I'm not going anywhere."

"I'm sorry."

"I knew you'd say that—you always say that—this has nothing to do with—" Quiz started that sentence with furious bombast, then trailed off very quickly, stunned. The sentence he had heard was not the one which had been uttered, and recognising that had the same psychological impact as running headfirst in to a wall. He stared at Diz, who sat there looking far smaller than he should. "... What did you just say?"

"I'm sorry." Diz gingerly took his hand away from his nose, fingers covered with translucent, black blood, but his eyes were steady on Quiz. His voice was softer than any of them had heard it before. "I never meant any of it... what I said in the woods, I mean. You're right. I've been unfair to you... for years. I thought I was keeping you out of danger by keeping you at arm's length because you're... I thought you would get us all killed but... oh Quiz, you aren't like Viz and I, you're just too... but you're also the only one of us who's never been shot before so..." He swallowed. "I'm sorry. I'll do better. I promise."

It was not a perfect apology. In many ways, it wasn't even good. But it did seem to be the first one Diz had ever made, and perhaps that counted more than its failings did.

Very slowly, Quiz turned to look at the observing Mrs Sundae, his face full of dismayed accusation.

"What did you do!?"

Ada, who had been pleasantly surprised by the apology, hadn't been anticipating this reaction and seemed quite affronted to find herself reprimanded.

"What?"

For reasons best known to him, Quiz looked distraught, as though Diz had died a second time right in front of him. His frantic gestures were part appeal, part reproach, with the petulant desperation of a distressed child.

"You've brought him back all wrong!" He proclaimed, with an emphatic jab of a finger. Behind him, Diz's hesitant contrition was morphing into offence layered over something not entirely unlike hurt.

"No she didn't!"

Quiz rounded on him, clamping all four hands down onto Diz's arms and shoulders and squeezing until his knuckles paled. He didn't shake him, but he looked very much as though he'd like to. The scene, for those not involved in the emotion of it, was hysterical and a little funny.