The Twilight Prince

Chapter Two: The Sleepers

If no-one else could wake up, I hoped I might, because this would all make more sense if I was asleep. I pinched myself. I hoped I would snort awake over my drool-drenched algebra books while Mum nudged me in the back.

Nothing changed.

I ran for the water's edge. My brother said he'd gone to the Arm; that was the weather-worn Victorian seawall that jutted out of the beach; part of a harbour that had never been completed. If I was awake, Danny might be as well.

And if he was asleep, he could be in trouble. Anyone on the Harbour Arm might tumble into the water and drown.

I picked my way across the sleepers to a clear stretch of pavement, and I ran.

I ran past the funfair, where little kids hung limply from the baby-size rides; I ran past the lifeboat station, with its great orange lifeboat facing out to sea like a sentinel; I ran along the shingle beach between sunbathers and families, and through a feathery white carpet of slumbering gulls.

The slick seaweed-covered concrete of the unfinished Harbour Arm was just ahead; two giant blocks separated by an arched breakwater that looked like a lost piece of an ancient temple.

People sometimes dive off the end of the Arm, but it had been designated an unsafe structure, railed off with a sign that says, 'Access not permitted'.

My brother was not the only one who ignored the sign to get a good perch to fish from. Half a dozen people—a few teens, and a dad and his sons—lay on the seagull-spattered blocks, all of them out of action.

My brother lay with his arms crossed like a pharaoh, with his fishing rod on his chest.

I shouted above the sound of the sea winds. Danny didn't respond.

I shook him—much more vigorously than I'd shaken Mum—but that didn't work either.

I slapped his face.

"Wake up!"

Still no response.

"I can't be the only one, Danny. You have to help. You have to wake up!"

A terrible roar nearly knocked me off my feet; a sound a dying whale might make; a loud, mournful noise that could surely wake anyone.

I looked for the source of the noise, and then down at Danny—still sleeping. With the sea at my back, I saw Hastings Pier on my left, the seafront amusements straight ahead, and the tall black net sheds off to my right, with the steep straight track of the cliffside railway behind them. The "railway" was basically an elevator on the cliff face, which carried tourists from the beach to the hilltop. It stopped in a little brick building that looks like a tiny castle with two square towers.

On top of one of those towers was a man.

He held a horn that was at least as long as he was tall, and he lifted the horn to his lips as if it weighed nothing at all, and he blew.

The monstrous bellow filled the air and shook me to my bones, and I covered my ears.

As the echoes of the horn faded, I heard another unexpected sound; hooves on shingle.

Something incredibly weird was happening, and I was the only witness. That seemed like a very unsafe thing to be. I had to hide. But there was nowhere to hide on a concrete block on the edge of a beach, so I did the next best thing; I lay down on my side and pretended to be asleep.

But I left my eyes open just the tiniest sliver, so I could get a sense of what was going on.

A pair of horses came to a stop on the shingle in front of me; one with one rider, and one with two.

The woman on the first horse had pale skin with a green hue. I couldn't tell if it was a trick of the light, or make-up. She wore a dappled grey riding jacket that looked like seal skin, and pink and blue coral jewels on her hands and in her hair. If she was one of the costumed performers from the parade, she'd put a lot of work into it. Her clothes were the most elegant I'd ever seen.

A woman and a man rode on the second horse, with the woman in front. She was dressed in an iridescent blue jacket, and she carried a bow and a quiver of arrows on her back. She had pale brown skin, black hair tied in a knot, and a scar that ran down her forehead, across her eye, to the corner of her mouth. Everything about her said 'warrior'. Soldier.

I couldn't get a clear view of the man. He was dark haired, and dressed in black and grey, but I couldn't see his face. He dismounted with his back to me,

The soldier looked around with a glower on her face, and I closed my eyes before she could notice me.

These people had to be the reason why everyone was asleep, but I couldn't imagine why they had done it, or how. They might be spies or foreign invaders. They might be eccentric thieves carrying out some elaborate heist. On a seaside town.

The women spoke to each other in a language I didn't recognize; a melodious flow of rises, falls, and soft hisses. From the lady's mouth the words were tense and steady, like the drag of the tide on a pebble beach. She was giving orders. The soldier responded with short blunt bursts, like the crash of waves on a rocky shore.

Footsteps crunched away from me down the beach, and I opened my eyes again. The two women were walking towards the shoreline, with the soldier leading the horses by the reins.

My eyes darted in search of the man, and found him.

He stood about twenty feet away, with his hands behind his back.

He was looking directly at me.

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