Charity disconnected the holographic image of her neighbor just as Toren stomped back through the doorway, rain dripping off his slicker. He set his flashlight on the table.
“The twins haven’t seen him,” she informed him. “Neither has anyone else. I’ve rung up everyone in the village, and I can’t reach him on his wrist pad.” She brought a mug of tea to him.
Toren drank from the mug and sighed. “’Tis not with him. I made him take it off in the forge.”
“You what?”
“I didn’t want it interfering with his magic.” He rubbed a hand down his face, sluicing away water. “He’s not down in the village proper.”
Charity glanced at the rain sliding down the window obscuring all else outside. Her son was out there in that storm.
Toren set the mug down on the table and took her by the shoulders. “He’s a smart lad and has been traipsing all over this area since we’ve come here. He may just be waiting out the storm somewhere.”
“I know…it’s just…” She couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that had been stalking her since morning. “I have a bad feeling.”
Toren stared down at her, features tight. “I’m going back out. I’ve not searched the lower pier.”
Charity smiled, so grateful for this man who never made light of her feelings. He was already waterlogged, his rain boots coated in fine Scottish mud.
“Ring my pad if the lad shows up.”
“I’m going with you.” She scrolled a note across the interface pad on the face of the refrigerator for Alexander to ring them once he returned.
“Charity.”
“I’m coming.” Finality bristled her tone.
“I see that ye are.” Toren’s voice was dry the way it got when he knew not to argue with her. Instead he grabbed her rain slicker off the peg by the door and held it so she could shrug inside.
“Let’s try the upper meadows,” she said, slipping her rubber boots on. “He’s gone there before when he felt like brooding. Have you looked there already?”
“I have not.” Toren grabbed the flashlight and pulled the door open and the buffeting wind blew rain inside across her floor. At the moment she really didn’t care, just grabbed Alexander’s rain coat and hat off the pegs and hurried out into the storm.
She was going to find her son. Then she’d ground him until he was thirty.