Ancient Appetites by Oisin McGann

one was watching, Nate stuck two fingers into the badger's gasping mouth and pushed down. There was a click, and the panel behind the black and white striped head popped outwards. Nathaniel pulled the secret door open and stepped into the space inside. There was a box of candles and some matches on a ledge beyond the door, and he put his hand on them before closing it behind him and cutting off the light.
    He lit a candle and, peered down the dusty passageway, illuminated for only a few yards by the flame's weak light. This was one of many secret routes through Wildenstern Hall. As children, they had been encouraged to play and explore through the massive building – often leading to frantic searches when one of the family's little darlings went missing in the sumptuous labyrinth. Part of their self-defence training had involved learning the secret ways of the house, its hidden doors and passageways, its safe rooms and booby traps.
    This passage led to a number of different places in the house, including Warburton's surgery, where the good doctor was reconstructing Nathaniel's brother. Nate wanted to inspect the body for himself, but he didn't want to be seen doing it. He knew that he would be suspected if any evidence of foul play was found – but another thought had occurred to him. If Marcus had been murdered to advance somebody's position, then whoever had committed the act might not be finished. They might not have counted on Edgar's contempt for his next eldest son; Berto had always protested against his father's cold-hearted business methods and the family knew it. So the real power – the business in America – had been handed to Nathaniel. Which meant he could very well be the next target.
    So now he needed to find out who was responsible, but he wanted to do it without tipping them off. The less they knew the better. He started off down the dark, musty corridor.
    It was no mean feat to navigate these dark passageways; with each branch and junction, Nate struggled to remember the route. But all his training paid off and he became more confident as he recalled the games of catch and hide-and-seek they had played along these passages as children. He had almost reached the turn that would take him to Warburton's surgery when he heard a sound in the corridor ahead of him. He froze. Why would anybody else be using this passageway? Few enough people even knew of its existence; the closest family and a few trusted servants. Nate blew out the candle. Perhaps somebody else was trying to get into Warburton's quarters. Someone else with an interest in Marcus's corpse.
    He stood still, not making a sound, and waited. A few feet away, a floorboard squeaked. And then another, squeaking again as the foot was lifted carefully from it. Nate held his breath. The darkness was like a mass of black wool around him, soft and yielding, yet smothering too. He ignored what his eyes were telling him, concentrating on his other senses. There came the barely detectable sound of tense, nervous breathing. There was a man here with him. Nathaniel could smell the faint whiff of tobacco smoke on his breath and the pomade in his hair.
    Fingers suddenly brushed across Nate's face and he grabbed them, twisting the hand back to try and get an arm-lock. The other man reacted quickly, reversing the move and almost succeeding in wrenching Nate's arm up behind his back. Nathaniel turned to the side, pushed down sharply with his fist and then drove his elbow up into his opponent's chest. The air was driven out of the man's lungs. The wheezing exhalation gave him a target and Nate, too close to use his fists, swung his other elbow into the sound, catching his assailant across the cheek. He slammed his shoulder into the other man's midriff and they crashed against the wall. Nate caught a knee in the stomach and doubled over, but pulled aside before the edge of a hand could come down on the back of his neck. It hit his shoulder instead and he replied by