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Meg, thankful for the sudden appearance of a distraction, slunk back against the wall of the barrow as much as she could to avoid the noxious spray of the skunk. She watched the proceedings while her mind considered options. She wasn't sure if the skunk had hit anyone, but she watched as the girl careened back into Edwin and the two went tumbling just after Edwin had thrown the flaming wick. The other children shrieked and ran off, scrambling to get as far away as possible from whatever it was that Jessamy had seen. And from the scent.
That girl has poise and courage, Meg thought; she didn't cry out when the gravel scraped her hand. Meg contemplated trying to win the girl over as an ally but finally decided against it. She didn't know the girl well enough, had only seen her on market days in Bree. No, something else was needed.
Watching the flaming wick gave her an idea. It might not work, but was her best chance. Meg stepped sideways towards her cart. The wood was smelling now; it had caught a direct salvo from the skunk. Maybe that will keep it safe; who would want a stinking cart? she thought. Coming closer she was able to dig her hands into the pile of peat she had collected. Deep into the dirt her fingers dug, filling her nails and wrinkled skin with dirt. She grabbed a piece of peat without much time to take a good aim and threw it towards the entrance. Would it land before the wick?
Yes, yes it did. And seconds later the flames buried themselves into the dry mound of peat, sputtering at first and then suddenly bursting into glowing red embers, like an evil red eye come to spy on intruders. Some of the children screamed for real this time.
Meg saw her chance; while the children were watching the sudden appearance of burning embers she slunk out the far side of the barrow, rounded the corner, and hobbled away as fast as her aged hips would carry her. Another barrow, she thought. Let me find another barrow. Or better yet, a standing stone to hide behind. She tripped in the dark and rolled over, coming up against a stone. It would have to do. She pulled herself behind it, gasping for breath, feeling the gritty dirt in her nails as she ran her hands over the stone.
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