Pearl Before Swine ch 18: The Essence of the Night

~THE PEARL~

I swallow as Sal’s words form an image in my mind. The beautiful Corals crumble, and the Sea Swine shrivel within their shells. Without Mare, will those she created perish?

“Why?” I whisper.

His grip tightens on my shoulders, too warm now. I am the night, and he is a fire, his voice cracking like embers. “Creatures of Essence are conceived by their Essence’s desire for companionship. If the Essence dies, then those Creatures no longer have a purpose.”

I take in the idea and test its weight. I spawned in the sea, supposedly a creature of Mare, though she had no need of my companionship. Forgotten by her, I found a new purpose with an Essence that needed me.

Yet, this does not explain Sal’s desperation, the sparks of fear in his eyes like a thousand stars sputtering out. Green eyes—not the green of Pike’s or Beau’s or Mare’s, but still green. Past moments flash—how he spoke of Jun’s ancestors as if he had known them, all the many things that he and he alone seems to know.

My voice, when I find it, is a blend of breeze and distant thunder. “Sal, are you the Swine?”

“The what?” His brows twist, and his grip loosens.

“The Swine, the one sent to sabotage me, is it you?”

He draws back as if I am now the fire. “You mean Sea Swine, then. This contract you have to fulfill, it’s with Mare?”

I nod, and with the deepest of breaths, I lean forward to repeat my stance. “I am not a Creature of the Sea, and if you want me to believe you are not, you will tell me right now why you have come here.”

The bag of shells drops onto the bolder with the cry of shattering glass. He pivots back onto his rear, eyes wide, but there is a hard set to his jaw. “First, I don’t believe you. Second, my past is none of your business.”

If he is the Swine, that is absolutely my business. He knows it, but we will get nowhere with words alone.

I snatch the bag and pull out a broken shell. It no longer glows, but in the slanted light of young morning, its edges glint like a blade as I thrust it beneath his chin. “Then I must assume you are my enemy, and I cannot allow you to live.”

“Whoa, Pearl—” He grips my wrist, but I sit atop him and press the shard against the pulse in his neck.

“Well?”

A chime-like laugh bubbles from his core, and he utterly fails to hold it in. “This isn’t at all convincing me you’re not a Creature of the Sea. You look just like her.”

“Like whom?”

“Whom else? I’ve met Mare. Is that what you want me to say?” His hold on my arm adjusts, gentler, gloved thumb caressing the tender underside of my wrist. “I’ve met Caelus, too, and barely survived. Like I said, beautiful things are dangerous.”

I scowl. “I do not look like Mare.”

“Physically, no. You’re even more beautiful.” He tries to rise, but the shell digs into his neck, and he stills with a wince, eyes flicking toward my hand.

I keep my weapon where it is and shift my weight to push him back onto the sand. “Tell me how you met them.”

He stares into me, not just at my eyes but beyond them, to what in me makes me who and what I am. “That’s two stories. You get one.”

“Then tell me how you met Mare.”

A smirk quirks his lips. “Interesting choice for one so adamant she’s not a Creature of the Sea.” He lets the taunt linger, but I wait for the tale, counting a hundred heartbeats between every crash of the waves. “It was on a beach much like this one, but much colder. Caelus keeps the gulf at the base of his mountain frozen to keep Mare out of it, but she comes anyway if the prize is good enough.”

“Were you the prize?”

This time, his laugh is a snort, and he looks everywhere but at me. “I was a child, and an ugly one at that. And poor and stupid enough to think I could steal from pirates, but that’s another story. You want to hear about Mare.”

I lean forward to catch his eye again, weight on my forearm across his chest. “I want to hear everything, Sal.”

His heart skips, but he still does not look at me. “She destroyed that pirate ship, tortured its crew. I helped one man escape and brought him back to my mother, hoping he would show us where their treasure was if we healed him up. We couldn’t save him, and all he talked about was his home on the southern shore, how paradisaic it was. I—” His lips tremble, and he swallows. “That’s why I travel, Pearl. I’m looking for what he told me is out here.”

I hum a noncommittal sound between skeptical and accepting.

His gaze slides back to mine. “Do you believe me?”

“I want to, but you have not actually said that you are not the Swine.”

“Do I have to?” He releases my wrist and reaches for my face, fingers brushing my fallen hair back and hovering just shy of my cheek. “You could just cut me. Creatures of Essence bleed gold, you know.”

“I do not want to cut you, Sal,” I say, resting my head against his palm. “I want to be able to trust you.”

“Then slice all the doubt from your heart.” Closing his eyes, he mouths, “I am not Mare’s Sea Swine.”

He places his life in my hands. Dare I show so little faith in return? He believes me a Creature of the Sea. He says I resemble Mare, not because I share her shapes and coloring. That, I can rightfully deny. He accuses me of acting like her, and how can I dispute that while I hold a weapon to his throat? He has given no resistance, though he could have.

It will be just a little cut, not lethal, just enough to glimpse the color of his blood.

Yet, no matter how small, it will sever this trust between us, and I need him. He knows more about the Essences than anyone. If he is not the Swine, he can tell me who is.

What if he is the Swine, though? All it will take to know for sure is one tiny prick. He has given his permission.

My grip tightens on the shell as I angle its sharpest point toward him.

I fling it away and slap my hands down on either side of his head.

After a moment, he peeks at me through one barely-open eye. “You should be a surgeon. I didn’t feel that at all.”

“I have decided to request something else.”

“Oh?” Both eyes open, reflecting the brightening gray of the sky. Is he late for class? Will someone come looking for us?

“Will you,” I start, trailing off when the fluttering in my stomach escapes my throat as a squeak. “Will you teach me how to kiss?”

His chuckle possesses the undertones of a growl. “For that, you’ll have to get off me. It’s hard enough to breathe as is.”

Filled with flames and insects, I roll aside to let him sit up. Though the sand looks like snow against his dark poncho, it darkens the white of his hair and refuses to leave no matter how he swipes at it.

He gives up on the sand, folds his legs beneath him, and faces me with a sound part sigh, part low whistle. “So, to begin this…”

I scoot closer on my knees, forehead aimed at him. He leans above me, one curled finger lifting my chin as his breaths wash over my cheeks, a refreshing chill against the inferno within. Yet, he hovers there, teetering on the edge of a cliff, gaze alighting on my lips.

“The secret to a good kiss,” he murmurs, “is suspense and consent. You offer by getting close, then you wait for your partner to close that gap.”

A smile dawns across me. He waits for my move next, for me to come to him, and like an explosion, I duck my forehead to his lips.

A thud rings just louder than the waves, and he rocks back, sleeve pressed to his mouth as he hisses in a breath.

“I’m sorry!” I pry his arm away to assess the damage. The corner of his lip is puffy, not enough to require healing.

With a slow inhale, he straightens, hands on my shoulders guiding me back to where I was. “I bet your lips are softer than your forehead. Let’s try that.”

I nod and conjure thoughts of softness, sight affixed to his mouth as he leans in again. I cannot be stone. I am branches swaying at the behest of his breath. No, softer, I am a flower’s petals waiting for a bee to touch down.

It is the gentlest landing in all of history, bouncing back immediately, and I pursue it, but his palm cups my cheek.

“Slow,” the touch says. “Gentle.”

When I oblige, he returns to me, a peck at the very edge of my lips, then another, gliding sideways, each in sequence firmer and lingering longer. My heart hammers on the same frequency.

“What you do,” he breathes, “is not as important as how you do it.”

I press into every point of contact, hand rising to hold his against my face as I shimmy closer.

He pulls back with a gasp. “Do you hear that?”

I fall against his chest. Have the auroras returned? I can’t waste this opportunity to try to speak with them.

Yet, it is not their voice that rides the morning wind. This is a flute, breathy and low, played by fast fingers.

I scan the site for its source but see no one. “I know this song.”

“Me, too,” Sal agrees, but where glee filled my words, something darker and almost desperate coats his.

As it did in Terra’s forest, the music hooks into my heart and reels me in. I stand, take one step, but Sal grabs my hand.

“Pearl.”

“I know him,” I say, yet the warning reinfuses me with caution. No matter how alluring his melody, Pike may still be the Swine. His music may even be a sign of that. He also might not be. Instead of running and hiding and dodging potential friendships forever, I want to give him a chance to prove it either way.

“Do you?” Sal’s grip tightens on my hand. “That song is meant to summon Mare when one has a gift for her.”

“Are you certain?” I retreat behind him, but it is not enough. Pike spots me, and the song ends in deference to an enthusiastic wave as he hooks the flute through a belt loop and trots over.

Sal remains crouched, not within his view yet. “The first two lines are: Come, Lady of the Sea. I have a gift for thee.”

“Do you bring a gift for Mare?” I call as Pike reaches the base of our boulder.

He pauses with a shake of his head and the faintest of laughs. “No? That a requirement?”

“That is not why you play a song to summon her?”

He climbs but stops when he’s high enough to see Sal. His green-blue eyes flit between the two of us before he rolls them. “I’ve lived my entire life on or around the ocean, and I’ve never seen Mare or any evidence she exists.”

“Sal has seen her.”

“Good for him. Mind helping me up, Sal is it?” He extends a bandaged hand.

I drop to my knees and cradle it. “What happened?”

“N-nothing.” He jerks his arm back, loses his grip, and flounders mid-air.

Faster than a striking snake, Sal is beside me, fingers tangled in the collar of Pike’s jacket as he hauls him onto the boulder.

“If it were nothing, it would not require a bandage,” I say, reaching for his hand again as Sal sets him down.

Pike scratches the back of his head. “I thought you were mad at me.”

“For that, you hurt yourself?”

“Not on purpose,” he mumbles and lets his hands fall to his lap. His gaze drops with them. “I was working on a secret project for you, hoping you’d forgive me.”

“I do not.”

He looks up, a shine in his eyes like the grandest glitter of the sea, and his lower lip wobbles as he draws a deep breath. “Oh. I thought…”

The end of the sentence dangles, too afraid to venture beyond him and discover our ears. What does he think? If I touch him, can I build a bridge between our minds like that instant with Sal? Will the answers I seek come to me, or will they only confuse me more?

“Want me to toss him off the rock?” Sal asks, already gripping the back of Pike’s jacket.

“No!” we both say.

As if to hold him here, I grab his bandaged hand. He flinches, winces, but I push back his sleeve to reveal freckled skin. The wound must not extend beyond his palm, then. I switch my grip to his wrist, wishing for some connection. Only his faint warmth greets me, weaker than the sun shining on my front. Light streams through his beach-colored hair, leaving his face in shadow.

He shivers. “At least we agree on that.”

I tilt my head. “The centipede was more precious to me than you could know. I will not forgive you for killing it, but I will move forward.”

Slowly, he nods. “I’ll do you one better. I’ll forgive you for standing me up when I offered you a private concert, and again for avoiding me yesterday. Beyond that, I can’t un-kill a bug, but I promise I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

Sal plops close enough, he could cut between us at any moment. “You’re mad at him for squashing a bug?”

“It was about to tell me who the Swine is.”

Sal’s brows lift, mouth open in a silent, “Oh,” as he turns toward the suspect. Can he tell whether Pike is a Creature of Essence, a Creature of the Sea? Will he tell me? What will the Swine do if he knows Sal gave him away?

“Okay.” Pike stretches out the word, scratching the back of his neck this time. “That statement’s kind of a lot to unpack. What are you two doing out here anyway?”

Sal snatches up the bag of shells and ties it closed. “We were talking about the auroras. Any ideas, Science Student?”

“They’re dangerous. That’s all I know.” Pike shrugs, then looks up suddenly. “Hey, are you the guy they almost killed?”

“Pearl thinks they’re a new Essence.”

Pike chuckles. “No offense, but they’re probably just someone’s experimental weapon. Too many of those around here, in my opinion.”

Sal’s gaze narrows. “We think some of those experimental weapons are meant to kill the Essences. Know anything about that?”

“If I did, it’d still be fiction. The Essences are just stories to entertain board sailors, comfort grieving mothers, or warn children to behave.” All laughter dies in his tone, impaled upon the blade of Sal’s gaze. “You don’t seriously believe in them? There’s no evidence—”

At Sal’s shove, Pike tumbles backward off the rock and hits the lumpy sand with a thud.

I am on my feet. “Sal!”

“He’s fine.”

With a growl, Pike hops up, and even before brushing himself off, he checks his flute. “You’d better be glad this is fine, too.”

Sal leans over the boulder’s edge and glares down at him. “Meet one of the auroras, then tell me they’re something made in a lab. While you’re at it, keep playing that song. You can meet Mare, too, and we’ll see how quickly you change your tune about her not existing.”

“What’s it matter to you anyway, huh?”

Pike is so much smaller than Sal, a fact exaggerated by their relative positions. He is a sapling barely peeking out of the soil, glowering up at a mighty sequoia.

Sal stands, leaps, and lands on the slanted dune beyond Pike’s valley. “Pearl, I’m going inside.”

“Wait, Sal.” I slide down the rock and stand beside Pike. “I want to hear the answer, too.”

He hesitates, then shoves the shells and his hands into his jacket’s waist pockets. Three large strides carry him to the dune’s summit.

“I do not believe they would die.”

As my declaration echoes, Sal stops, boots sinking in the sand.

Pike’s hand hovers just shy of my arm. “Who wouldn’t die?”

“Sal, you asked if an Essence died, would their Creatures die with them, and I say they would not. An infant Essence would need them.”

He truly has become a tree planted in the dune’s peak, and every moment he does not turn to face me, my stomach churns faster. Agree or disagree. I just need him to say something, to give me permission to explain. My thoughts run like melted wax, and I cannot keep them within my cupped hands.

Can I nurture a new Essence like Terra nurtured me? Can I protect them, help them grow strong enough to survive what their predecessors could not?

Yet, if it means losing Terra…

It stings and tears, a flame upon my skin. Can I throw even this emotion into serving someone new? Can I use it to ensure I never lose anyone again?

Can I use it now, to prevent loss in the first place?

“Please, Sal, tell me what I have to do.”

“Wait, wait!” Pike steps between us, arms waving. “For the sake of argument, let’s say Essences exist. Why does a new one have to be a replacement? Maybe it’s supposed to protect a new realm.”

Perhaps it is wishful thinking, but his theory wraps around my heart as firmly as his song always does.

“They are made of light and energy,” I whisper, “nothing so easily associated with the sea. Pike, you are a genius!” I throw my arms around him, Swine or not. He can be my ally in this if nothing else.

Sal’s voice rains from above like shattered glass. “Land, Sea, and Sky. What else?”

Pike hugs me back, chin tilting atop my head as he thinks. He smells of sand and sun and only a tiny hint of Mare. “Light?”

I snicker. “How can light be a realm?”

“Electric lights.” Sal takes my hand and tows me from Pike’s embrace, tangling his fingers with mine to keep me facing him. His face is dawn, full of color, wonder, and excitement despite a suspicious shine in his eyes. “They let us stay up all through the night as if it were day. A new place for humans, a new Essence to counterbalance them.”

Despite our interlocked hands, no bridge connects our minds. Yet, there is something, like smoke drifting across a river. His thrill surrounds and fills me entirely.

“Land, Sea, and Sky all have a period of darkness. Night will be a powerful realm.” A smile spawns, so broad, I can barely form my words correctly. “What would you name its Essence?”

Sal flushes and drops my hands. “It’ll name itself. Or Caelus will name it. What we think doesn’t matter.”

Pike huffs, standing alongside me with an amused smirk. “We have to call it something. Everyone good with Aurora?”

“It’s not here to vote on the name.” Head shaking, Sal retreats another pace back up the dune.

Yet, the name is perfect, and further plans fit into place within my mind, a puzzle, a million snowflakes blanketing all in beautiful white.

I step toward him, reaching for his hands but not taking them. The gesture plays by his own rules—suspense and consent. I offer, waiting for him to close the gap. “What if we capture Aurora? We protect her, ensure she grows up right.”

He blinks, hands motionless, not accepting mine but not fleeing either. “Are you insane? It’s not a puppy. We can’t play mommy and daddy to an Essence.”

I inch my fingers closer. “We could teach her to care about humans, even to protect Jun’s people from Mare.”

His eye twitches, as do his thumbs, and eternity folds into a moment, then disappears. Shoulders stiff, he whirls and stomps up the dune. “Insane girl wants to raise the Essence of the Night.”

Yes, that is exactly what I want. As Pike and I jog after him, I watch my shadow play across the sparkle of sand. Light is beautiful, and mixing it with shadow only makes it more so. The Essence of the Night will be the shadow to balance the light of the other three realms.

Continued in chapter 19

Thank you for reading!