The hallway was shorter than they had expected.
Arthur went ahead and reached the end in only a few steps.
There was a door on either side, one half open and the other firmly shut.
Both were old, their surfaces marked with scratches and their corners worn pale.
Arthur looked through the half-open door first.
Once he was sure the room was empty, he pushed it open.
The hinges gave a small creak that sounded unusually loud in the quiet house.
This room was even smaller than the one where they had woken up.
It held a wooden bed, a low cabinet, and a chest.
The blanket lay unfolded, half of it hanging over the side of the bed.
A few pieces of clothing were scattered near its foot.
Helena came up behind him and looked in from the doorway.
“This must be our room.”
Arthur thought so too.
At least, the bed looked too large to be the children’s.
Lucas and the others followed at a slower pace.
None of them had grown used to walking in their new bodies yet, and when they reached the doorway, the raised threshold stopped them.
Arthur and Helena only had to lift a foot to cross it.
For the three of them, it took a little more care.
Lucas went first.
He looked down, judged the distance, and stepped over it.
His toe nearly caught on the wood, and he pitched forward.
Arthur caught him by the shoulder.
Lucas steadied himself and was quiet for two seconds.
“I’m fine.”
“I didn’t say anything.” Arthur let go.
Lucas glanced at him.
His father’s expression looked perfectly normal, but Lucas had a feeling he was holding back a smile.
At the doorway, Clara held on to the frame before stepping carefully over the threshold.
Theo came last.
He looked at the threshold, then at the other two, and reached for the doorframe as well.
No one mentioned it again.
All three, however, were beginning to dislike their short legs.
Inside, Helena went over to the bed.
A cloth bundle lay at its foot, with a piece of faded fabric sticking out.
Two sacks were propped against the wall.
The top of one had been loosely tied with a length of rope, and an old basket sat beside it.
The clothes hadn’t been put away either.
They were simply draped over the bed.
Helena crouched and touched the bundle.
The fabric was coarse, and she could feel other things inside, but she didn’t open it yet.
Arthur noticed her expression.
“What is it?”
“Doesn’t this look like we’ve only just moved in?”
Arthur surveyed the room again.
With the clothes, bundle, and sacks all piled beside the bed, it certainly didn’t look lived in.
Clara stood beside her mother and peered into the low cabinet.
“This is empty too.”
The door hadn’t been shut properly.
Inside was only a small piece of folded, worn cloth.
“Maybe no one’s had time to put things away,” Helena said.
“Or the things have only just been brought here,” Clara added.
Arthur didn’t try to settle it.
“Let’s keep it in mind until we’ve seen the rest.”
They knew too little to do more than guess.
They returned to the hallway and stopped in front of the closed door.
Arthur tried the handle.
It wasn’t locked, so he pushed it open.
A stale smell of wood and dust drifted out.
Theo, standing behind him, frowned and stopped.
Arthur looked back.
“What?”
“This room hasn’t been aired out in a long time.”
“You’re worried about that too?”
“I can smell it,” Theo said without changing expression.
Arthur opened the door wider.
It was a tiny storeroom, dimly lit by a window no bigger than his hand high up on the wall.
Several old farm tools leaned against one side.
Nearby stood a wooden bucket and two baskets of different sizes.
There was also a small bundle of firewood in the corner.
A thin layer of dust covered the wood and the floor around it.
Lucas looked around from the doorway.
“At least there’s firewood.”
Arthur pulled out a piece.
It was dry and fairly light.
He tested the edge with his fingers, then put it back.
“It should burn.”
Clara peered past him.
“How long will it last?”
Arthur made a rough guess.
“A few days, maybe, if we’re careful.”
“How many is a few?”
“I’ve never heated a house with firewood.
How would I know how much we’ll use in a day?”
Clara couldn’t argue with that.
Arthur turned to the tools.
There was a hoe, a shovel, and a few others he couldn’t name offhand.
Their wooden handles looked old, and one had a narrow split running along it.
He picked up the hoe to test its weight.
It wasn’t too heavy.
“Dad,” Clara asked suddenly, “do you know how to farm?”
Arthur paused.
“I know what a hoe is.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
He was quiet for two seconds.
“I’ve never farmed.”
“So you don’t.”
“I can learn.” Arthur leaned the hoe back against the wall.
“There are established principles to growing crops,” Lucas said, studying the tools.
He was plainly already thinking it through.
“If we can work out the climate and soil conditions here, then identify the growing cycles of the main crops—”
Arthur rested a hand on his head.
Lucas stopped and looked up.
“What are you doing?”
“No lectures yet.”
“I wasn’t giving a lecture.”
“You’d started one.”
Clara laughed.
Lucas frowned and tried to push Arthur’s hand away with both of his little hands.
He pushed once without success, then tried harder.
It still didn’t move.
His expression grew darker.
Arthur finally laughed and took his hand away before Lucas got truly annoyed.
“Come on.
Let’s look at the next room.”
Beyond the storeroom was a somewhat larger room, apparently where the family ate and spent their time.
An old wooden table stood in the middle, surrounded by chairs of different heights that clearly hadn’t come as a set.
On a wooden shelf against the wall sat several clay bowls and cups, along with a small chipped plate.
An unwashed bowl had been left on the table.
Arthur went over to inspect it.
A little pale residue had dried to the bottom, though he couldn’t tell what it had been.
Theo came closer too.
Just as he reached the table, a tiny fly rose from the rim of the bowl.
He stopped and silently took a step back.
Clara saw the whole thing.
Her gaze flicked from the bowl to her brother.
Theo looked at her.
“I didn’t say anything,” Clara said at once.
“Good.”
He walked away.
Only then did Clara lower her head and laugh to herself.
Helena had already gone to the kitchen at the back.
A half wall separated it from the main room, and there wasn’t much space inside.
A stone hearth stood against the wall with a blackened iron pot on top.
A few partially burned logs lay beside it.
A wooden spoon hung on the wall above several clay jars.
She stood in front of the hearth for a while.
Arthur joined her, and together they looked at the pot.
After a moment, he asked, “Do you know how to use it?”
Helena turned to him.
“Do you?”
“No.”
“Then why are you asking me?”
“You spent more time in the kitchen than I did.”
“I used a gas stove,” Helena said flatly.
Arthur had nothing to say to that.
Clara leaned around them and looked at the hearth.
“Let’s find the food first.”
That, at least, they could do.
Helena lifted the lid from a wooden bucket in the corner.
It was a little less than half full of water.
The surface looked clear, though she couldn’t see the bottom of the bucket properly.
Theo came over at once.
“Where did the water come from?”
“I don’t know.”
“Has it been boiled?”
“I don’t know that either.”
He studied it for a moment.
“Don’t drink it yet.”
Arthur nodded.
“All right.”
“I mean it.
Don’t drink it straight from the bucket.”
“I know, Doctor Theo.”
Theo ignored the teasing.
“Good.”
Arthur glanced at him.
Helena held back a smile and checked the jars.
One contained a little salt, while another held some yellowish cooking fat.
It didn’t smell bad.
There was also a small wooden cupboard.
Arthur opened it for her.
Inside were half a sack of grain and several pieces of bread that had gone hard.
All five of them stared into the cupboard.
Clara crouched, caught hold of the grain sack, and tried to drag it out.
It didn’t budge.
She looked at the sack, then at her arms.
After a moment’s silence, she looked up.
“Dad.”
“I see it.” Arthur lifted the sack out for her.
Clara felt it and checked what was inside.
“Half a sack at most.”
She looked again at the bread, the little bit of salt, and the cooking fat.
It was hardly a reassuring supply of food.
“Is this all there is?”
“It’s all we’ve found so far.” Helena opened the remaining cupboards and found only a few shriveled onions and a small handful of beans.
Clara stared at what they had laid out without speaking.
“What are you working out?” Arthur asked.
“How long it’ll feed us.”
“And?”
“I don’t know,” Clara admitted.
“I don’t even know what kind of grain this is or how much we’ll need for a meal.
But it won’t last long.”
They hardly needed to calculate that much.
Helena put everything back.
“We haven’t finished looking through the house.
Don’t worry about it yet.”
Clara nodded.
At work, she used to glance at stock numbers and start estimating costs.
Here, she didn’t know the prices or even the units people used to measure things.
She had nothing to work with.
She couldn’t even lift a sack of grain by herself.
Arthur went to the kitchen’s back door and pushed it open.
Daylight spilled in, making them squint.
Outside lay a small yard.
The ground was uneven, with weeds growing between the stones.
An old wooden handcart stood beside the fence, one wheel slightly crooked.
Arthur couldn’t tell whether it would still roll.
Nearby was a low shed.
Its door hadn’t been shut properly and moved gently in the wind.
Beyond it was the wooden fence they had seen from the bedroom window.
Past the fence, they could just make out a stretch of land.
Arthur stood in the doorway and scanned everything he could see.
There was still no one around.
He heard no voices, only the rustle of wind through the grass.
Clara leaned out beside him.
“I don’t think we’re in a city.”
“I can see that,” Arthur said.
“Then tell us something we can’t see.”
Arthur didn’t argue.
He pointed beyond the fence.
“There’s a path.”
They followed his finger.
A narrow dirt path ran outside the fence, weeds growing along both sides.
A clear track remained down the middle where people had walked.
Farther on, trees blocked their view of where it led.
Lucas narrowed his eyes.
“There are probably other people living nearby.”
“What makes you say that?” Clara asked.
“That path gets used.
If no one had walked on it for a long time, the grass wouldn’t be growing only along the edges.”
Arthur nodded, then pointed to several strips of wood on the fence.
“Someone’s repaired this too.”
The fence leaned in places, but the repairs suggested the house wasn’t alone in the middle of nowhere.
They knew nothing about what lay beyond it, though, and now was hardly the time to follow the path.
Helena looked around once more.
“Let’s finish checking the house.”
There wasn’t much left to see.
Beside the kitchen was a tiny space containing a few wooden basins, some old cloth, and a chipped water jug.
There were no other rooms.
They soon found themselves back in the main room.
Arthur pulled out a chair and sat down, with Helena beside him.
The three children approached the table, then stopped together.
The chairs were too high.
Clara looked up at one, then turned toward Lucas.
He had already taken hold of the edge.
“I can do it myself.”
No one tried to stop him.
Lucas put one foot on the rung beneath the chair to climb up, but it slipped, and he had to step back.
His second attempt didn’t get him high enough either.
Clara watched for a moment.
“Need help, Professor?”
“No.”
Lucas didn’t even turn around.
On his third try, he found his footing.
Gripping the seat with both hands, he hauled himself up with some effort.
Once he was settled, he quietly straightened his clothes.
Clara was still watching him.
“I’m just not used to this body,” Lucas said.
“I didn’t ask.”
“Your face did.”
Clara laughed and climbed onto another chair the same way.
That left Theo.
Everyone turned to him.
He looked up at the chair, noticed a low stool nearby, and simply went over and sat on that instead.
Arthur blinked.
Clara couldn’t help saying, “You found the easy way.”
“Why waste time?” Theo said, resting his hands on his knees.
Clara thought about it and found she had no answer.
Once everyone was seated, the room fell quiet.
Arthur went over what they had seen.
The house was old.
There wasn’t much food or firewood.
There was water in the kitchen, but they didn’t know where it had come from.
The things in the bedroom hadn’t been put away, as though the family had moved in recently.
And they still didn’t know who they were or why they were here.
Helena glanced out the window.
It was still light, with some time left before evening.
Wherever they were, they had to get through today.
“Let’s set the question of our identities aside for now,” she said.
The others looked at her.
“We don’t have any clues, and sitting here guessing won’t help.
Let’s deal with what’s in front of us.”
Arthur nodded.
“Water first.”
“And food,” Clara said.
“We need to sort through what we found and work out roughly how much there is.”
Lucas looked toward the window.
“After that, we should check the land outside.”
Helena took each point in turn.
There was plenty to do, but at least they had somewhere to start.
Arthur looked at the children.
“Anything else?”
Theo was quiet for a moment.
“Yes.”
“What?”
“I’m thirsty.”
Arthur paused.
Clara burst out laughing.
Theo looked at her.
“Aren’t you?”
Clara stopped laughing.
She licked her dry lips and said more quietly, “…I am.”
Lucas nodded too.
Since waking up, they had been so busy trying to understand their bodies and surroundings that none of them had noticed how thirsty they were until Theo mentioned it.
Arthur stood.
“All right.
We’ll boil some water.”
He looked toward the kitchen.
His gaze settled on the stone hearth, and he stopped.
Helena followed his eyes.
They both fell silent for two seconds.
Clara was the one who spoke.
“Which of you knows how to light a fire?”
Neither answered.
Lucas turned toward the hearth.
One look at his face told Arthur that he was already thinking.
“Don’t start explaining the theory.”
Lucas frowned.
“I haven’t said anything.”
“Your face has.”
Clara laughed again.
Helena gave them a helpless look and rose from her chair.
Whether they knew how or not, they would have to try.
The five of them couldn’t sit beside a bucket of water and stay thirsty simply because none of them knew how to use a wood stove.
“Come on,” she said, heading for the kitchen.
“Let’s get through today first.”
Arthur got up and followed her.
The three children climbed down from their chairs and stool, then trailed after them at their own slow pace.