Word: Thaumaturgy

thaumaturgy

American  

 [thaw-muh-tur-jee] / ˈθɔ məˌtɜr dʒi /

noun

1. the working of wonders or miracles; magic.

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                Jessie knocked on the door. Her small hands barely made a sound against the old wood. She felt her eye twitch. She hated that her normal knocking was so unimpressive. She was not even sure the person inside had heard her. Maybe it was for the best, really. Considering the state of the hallway, could she really trust someone who would live in such run-down conditions?

                The hallway was covered with dust and cobwebs. The floor was splintered and cracked. The walls were peeling and dented. The lights were either broken or dim. The door she knocked on was in fair condition, but even that was faded and warped in places. She felt more like she was in a haunted house than an apartment building.

                Before Jessie could reconsider her course of action, the door opened. A ratty looking man stood in the doorway. His hair and beard were greasy and untamed. His clothes were torn and filthy. He was definitely unwashed, considering the dirt on his hands. And the smell. It made Jessie wince and recoil slightly. But there was something off about him.

                Something Jessie could not quite place. If she looked beyond the dirt and mess, she swore she could see something more. Something better than what her eyes told her.

                “I ain’t giving out candy, kid.” The man said.

                “I’m not looking for candy.” Jessie said. “I’m looking for something more specific.”

                The man slowly blinked, then let out a long sigh. “Look, I don’t know what you heard, but this ain’t a place for brats. Get lost and go find someone to give you chocolate or something.”

                “No.” Jessie said firmly. “I came here because I heard rumors that the guy here is a wizard or something. Normally, I wouldn’t believe them, but given my circumstances, I can’t afford to discount rumors like that.”

                “Fancy words for a kid.” The man muttered. “The rumors weren’t right. I ain’t a wizard.”

                Jessie sighed. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

                “I’m a thaumaturge. Seriously, a wizard. Folks could at least get it right.” He said with a huff.

                Jessie paused. “What?”

                “Thaumaturge. Not a wizard. There’s a difference.”

                “Uh…”

                “Look, kid, there’s a bunch of different kinds of magic, but they all fall into two big categories. Divine and Arcane. I won’t go into the details, since you won’t get any of it. But us thaumaturges? We thread the needle between the two. Not quite one or the other but has parts of both.”

                “So…can you help me?” Jessie asked, not sure what he was talking about.

                “No. Sorry, kid, but like I said, I ain’t giving you candy.”

                “I don’t want candy. I need magic.”

                The man groaned. “Fine, kid. Tell me what the problem is.”

                “The fact that you said kid is the problem.”

                He leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms. He did not seem impressed.

                “Look, how old do you think I am?” She asked.

                “Seven or eight.”

                “I’m 29.”

                He looked at her and blinked. “Ah. What was it? Curse? Poorly worded wish? Something with the fae, maybe?”

                Jessie rolled up her sleeve, showing him the odd mark that had appeared on her upper arm right before she de-aged. The man looked at it critically.

                “Well, shit. That’s gonna be rough to deal with. You’d better come inside.”

                “Is it that bad? Can you get rid of this thing?”

                “Oh yeah, it’s bad. I can get rid of it, but it’s gonna take a lot of doing. So the sooner I get started the sooner I finish. Now get in here.”

                Jessie hesitated only slightly as the man entered his apartment. She just hoped this visit would be worth it.

Word: Cicerone

cicerone

 [sis-uh-roh-nee, chich-uh-, chee-che-raw-ne] / ˌsɪs əˈroʊ ni, ˌtʃɪtʃ ə-, ˌtʃi tʃɛˈrɔ nɛ /

noun

1. a person who conducts sightseers; guide.

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                For some reason, the tour group was lost. And not lost in the normal way either. They were in a completely different place. The tour guide, Becky, had no idea how that had happened. She had given hundreds of tours since she started. She knew the ruins like the back of her hand. And yet…

                “Are we lost miss?” Asked one of the tour group members. This one was a little boy who could not have been older than seven. He looked up at Becky with those wide eyes that only kids can manage.

                “Uh, no. No, of course not.” Becky said. “I’m just taking you all on a…super-secret special tour.”

                The other children in the group seemed thrilled by that. The parents, on the other hand, were not fooled in the slightest. They saw the sudden change. The fact that all the ruined, barely there outline of stone buildings had suddenly been changed into buildings that seemed more like crystal. They were still very much ruins, given the cracks in the material and overgrown paths, but there was no way anyone could think they were in the same place.

                She looked around, putting on her best tour guide smile. She had made the lie to placate the child. Now she just needed to sell it. She could discuss what was going on with the other adults.

                “This is the little known…Lunar City. Named after the prominent, uh, quartz towers. Experts believe these large crystals were found in the nearby deep caves and brought out because they resembled moonlight.”

                Becky thanked the ever-loving stars for her time in drama camp. And all those improv classes her ex-boyfriend insisted she take. She hoped that at least sounded kind of plausible to young minds. The parents looked at each other. One of them picked up the slack and let out a suitably impressed Oo and Ahh. Another one took a quick picture with his phone. Becky had no idea if the photo was actually taken, but that was not important.

                “Now, we don’t know why these big crystals were taken here, but we think…”She looked at the tops of the towers. Some of them had clear layers on top of them. Sort of, anyway. It was hard to tell, but it was enough to work with. “Because they admitted light, probably for ritual purposes.”

                “Can we go inside?” A little girl asked.

                Becky looked at the nearest door. It looked shut pretty tight. Plus, she had no idea what was inside. There could be dangerous animals or pitfalls inside.

                “Sorry, but no.” she said, doing her best to sound regretful. “The insides are very delicate, you see. We’re still studying them, so we don’t want anyone to go in yet.”

                The kids all gave a collective groan of disappointment. The parents looked grateful for her refusal though. Many of them were probably thinking similar things as she was. Now though, she had a problem. How was she going to spin it about why they couldn’t return to the ruins they were actually supposed to be touring. That would be a challenge. Even kids would know something was wrong pretty soon.

                “Now, normally we don’t let people into the Lunar City. But since this is a very special group, we get to do something really cool.” The kids practically held their breath in anticipation. “Even though we can’t go into the buildings, we get to stay here tonight to see how the light runs along the walls of the towers. I hear it’s a really cool. Almost like magic!”

                The kids were practically buzzing with excitement at the word magic. That would not last long when they realized there was no camping equipment. Or food. Hopefully someone would be able to find some edible plants. But that was a problem for later. Right now, it was Becky’s job to keep everyone from panicking and keep the group together. The real planning would happen once the kids went to sleep.

Word: Lily-livered

lily-livered

 [lil-ee-liv-erd] / ˈlɪl iˈlɪv ərd /

adjective

1. weak or lacking in courage; cowardly; pusillanimous.

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                “I don’t want to go in there.” Henry said.

                Loura turned to look at him with a quizzical look on her face. Then she turned to look at the haunted house. A stream of kids and teens entered and exited, along with a  few potentially drunk college students. They were the only adults in the line for entry.

                “Why not? Is there something wrong?” She asked. “Worried that someone we know will see us? Judge us for still liking Halloween? Come on, look around. Nobody cares.”

                “That…that’s not it.” Henry rubbed his arm. It had nothing to do with the late October chill. “I just don’t want to go in.”

                Loura looked at him. He studiously avoided the gaze. A wide smile crossed her face.

                “Oh my god. Henry, are you scared?”

                “N-no.” He replied weakly.

                “You are! You’re scared.”

                “I…I just…I don’t like ghosts and stuff.”

                Loura looked around them. Other people had joined the line after them, so she guided him out of the line. She could tell this was best done a little farther away from the crowd.

                “Scared of ghosts? Really?”

                “What? Lots of people are scared of ghosts.”

                “Yeah, but we’re not going to be seeing any. Look, this is a high school haunted house. The scariest thing we’re going to see in there is the kid’s acting skills.”

                Henry looked away from her. He also looked away from the building.

                “I know.” He said quietly. “But still. I can’t help it. I just see that kind of thing and I freeze up.”

                Loura’s face softened. She stepped closer to him and reached up to place her hands on his shoulders.

                “Look, I promise you have nothing to be scared of. The worst thing you have to be worried about is maybe getting some fake cobwebs in your hair.”

                “Uh…cobwebs? You…you think there’s going to be spiders in there?”
                “Only the kind that are made of plastic or rubber.”

                “I…I don’t think I can handle that.”

                “Henry, what’s really going on? There’s no reason to be scared. There are kids going in there and coming out laughing like crazy. You are 29 years old. You have literally no reason to be scared.”

                Henry did not answer right away. He did not want to admit this to her.

                “There’s nothing going on.” Henry said. “I’m just a big coward. I get scared easy. About all kinds of things. You just haven’t seen any of that yet. There’s no big, deep reason. I didn’t get lost in one of these places as a kid. I didn’t get traumatized by anything. I’m just scared, okay. I hate it and can’t handle even little things like this.”

                Loura looked at him. She knew he was a bit sensitive about a lot of things. She knew he wasn’t the kind of person to take a bullet for another. She was fine with that. She had dated way too many overly macho men in her day, so a gentler man was exactly what she was looking for. But to be scared of teenagers in bad masks? That was a bit much. She would just have to help him.

                “Well, I’m going in.” She said firmly. “You can stay out here, all alone, in the dark. Or you can come with me. We’ll go through, you’ll find that you’ve got nothing to be scared of, and we’ll get a few pieces of candy at the end. So, what’s it going to be?”

                Henry’s face went through a range of expressions. He looked around. The outside of the building had been lightly decorated. A few plastic gravestones with decorative skeletons. A few rubber bats in the trees. Nothing special. Henry looked like every single one of them was alive and about to jump him. He let out a light whimper, then moved to cling to Loura’s arm. She could only imagine what it must have looked like to others, but neither cared. They simply got back on line and waited, with Loura giving occasional words of comfort and encouragement the entire time.