While Vonn thought about the principles behind these creatures' construction, Selen was speaking to them. "What are your lives like, anyway? Did you willingly sign up to be in the Duke's army?"

"We serve," said the three nearest. Their voices had the same odd whistling, ringing quality as their bodies.

"Okay, but I've seen one of you perform on stage with the Duke's Finest Fools. So you don't just mechanically follow orders. Did you agree to fight here?"

One Woven answered. "Since the war, we were city defenders. It was understood we protected Grandbridge and its surroundings. This place seems far from our assignment."

Another said, "It is a new assignment."

"I am City Defender Forty-Two. I was not given a new name."

The other nearby one said, "Why do you ask these things?"

Selen told it, "I'm not from here either. Is... City Defender Three here? The one I first met?"

The Woven turned, scanned its fellows, and called out for "Three." Another Woven with slightly different colors to its bones and vines approached and said, "You made trouble for the Duke, once."

Selen hooted nervously and stepped back. "Mister... City Defender Three. I am the Duke's loyal subject. I've seen many strange things since I started living in his lands. Don't you want to get through this mission and go on to become something new?"

"I will follow my orders." The unblinking construct glanced toward her contraption. "What is that?"

"It's a new machine that draws pictures."

The Woven echoed, "An Artist is someone who draws pictures."

"But a machine can do it in a way no one's seen before. May I show you?"

They were good at sitting still. While she photographed the group, Vonn wandered away, looking at how the Duke's men had turned his village into a military encampment. They were just outside the temple grounds, where geomantic stakes had been pulled up to help their builder work on defense.

Kotta was approaching, shivering in a coat. He stopped at the sight of Vonn. "What are you doing out here?" Vonn asked.

The Kobold looked aside. "I was going to offer them a prayer. I don't see their officers; I bet the Elves don't even care. They're inside warm houses."

The artificial soldiers were blank-faced enough that Vonn couldn't tell what was going through their minds, the day before battle. "They could use whatever help they can get," Vonn murmured. He returned to Selen, who was finishing a camera shot.

Kotta followed, looked at her, then quietly addressed the nearest soldiers. "I don't know if this means anything to you. But you matter to not just the Duke, but to the whole kingdom, and to forces higher than any other." Unbidden, he uttered a prayer that was alien to Vonn yet familiar from hearing Kotta spin tales of Dragons.

"Why do you do this?" asked a nearby Woven.

"Because it's my duty to help others, if I can. To... to see that your souls are brought to the attention of... of the beings above."

Vonn's ear linings burned in the cold wind. He thought to himself, "Is that really your reason, Kotta? Or are you looking for a test audience for something none of us understand?"

The Woven called Three said, "May we see this Artist work done by a machine?"

Selen was fidgeting. "Yes, I'll go finish the work right away. Except, um..." Looking unable to meet their gaze or keep still, she spoke a short prayer that sounded like the work of a military chaplain. And in all Vonn's exploration, all his attempts to understand this world, he had gotten no idea whether rites of war were a thing people did here. Or whether anyone had bothered extending them to the artificial race that hadn't proven itself. When Selen hurried away with a promise to go mix some chemicals and demonstrate technology, he went along eagerly to help. He left behind the Bard with his mysterious scaly gods, who'd been fumbling his way through trying to save souls.

It was entirely possible that many of the Woven were going to die tomorrow, and then whose aid would've mattered more to them?

#

Selen commandeered a storeroom of the workshop and hung a curtain and gems that radiated darkness. She banged around with jars and trays as the little space grew dim. "Hold this."

He tried to help with the ritual of bathing paper slabs in ill-smelling chemical baths in the dark. "I'm impressed you got this far into the film process already."

Selen carried out the work, but paused to steady her trembling talons against a shelf. "What are we going to do, Vonn? The dungeon is becoming a war machine."

"There isn't much we can do but provide air support for people planning to go underground."

"What if they're the Duke's slaves?"

"There is literally nothing we can change about the kingdom's military structure right now." The thought of getting the troops to refuse orders occurred to him, immediately followed by an image of himself and his friends displayed on spiked poles.

Selen washed paper with her alchemical creations. "And our inventions might bring people together, but that won't help tomorrow or next year."

"Right."

"Then that's what the school will begin doing. Not hoarding knowledge among a few dilettantes like the Grandbridge Knowledge Society, but making sure more and more people know about things. Like..."

"Like what? Not having a military draft?"

Selen shined a pure white light through her film of the Woven, beginning to make a weak replica of a photograph that would have been near-instant back in the other world. "Like not using an entire species as expendable. If I can't achieve the spread of even that bit of common sense, what good have I done?"

"Plenty. So for now, let's give the troops any tech advantage we can."

They were quiet as Selen finished printing the soldiers' portrait. Vonn went with her to deliver it. She held the paper tightly as the wind tried to steal it, and let the soldiers look.

"Us," said one of them.

"Your machine painted this?" asked another.

Selen nodded. Another Woven replied, "Machines can also fly. A machine might do other things, then."

"A lot of things," Selen said. "I hope to work with some of you on them, someday."

Vonn said good night to them and tugged her away before any more talk that might get misread as subversive. Kotta had gone, too.