He adds, “…now gather together whatever stocks you’ve piled and carry them back where you got them from. I will take care of the shipping costs, and meet you again later to discuss the cost of the tea. Oh, and the password to the pantry was changed. The new word is Quintet.”
The nurse’s mercury gaze catches him once before he settles Arkytior in her arms and guides her to the hidden teleport pod across the room, a greyish, soothing sculpture of an unnamed planet and its single moon. One little inset grey button to press, and… the woman and girl disappear in a grey shimmering which lasts only a second. He looks for, and finds, his cloak, a tatty grey thing that had slid from his curled desk to the floor some hours ago.
He resets the coordinates for the Loom’s newly-grown catwalk, then steps into the teleport himself, once he’s settled his cloak around his shoulders and removed his golden ring to a pocket. The transport winks him away, then winks him into existence again near the bridge, as he’d intended, the air rank with the sound of too many footsteps.