Russ sat on the divan, eyes glued to the tv. He was forty. He was ready. All he needed was for the clock to tick past midnight. Fourteen seconds until the beginning of the winter solstice.

His first spell was already on the tip of his tongue. As soon as the clock struck midnight, he’d begin the incantation to conjure pennies from heaven. As a wealth spell, it was beyond passe, but it was a basic spell, guaranteed not to fail. Plus, he’d need the copper as an ingredient for his next spell.

He’d spent the last five years planning how to spend this year of being magical. He intended to make the absolute most of it. He’d been studying spells since he was a kid so there’d be no wasted time getting up to speed once his magic arrived. He was ready. This was the first year of his eligibility. He was going to do it.

Five seconds. He held a copy of the spell in his hand. He knew the spell by heart, but in the case of last minute jitters, he could read it. The only way to accomplish everything in one year was to have everything organized, and not to flub up.

On the tv, the clock struck midnight. Fireworks exploded in the air behind it. They were beautiful, but Russ didn’t notice.

“Fre beum di atum. Co solore doluit. Aver!”

Russ held his breath. His eyes squeezed tight. His hand gripped the government-issued casting wand.

Nothing happened.

He looked at the spell sheet. 

Had he said the words wrong? No. 

Should the spell take longer to engage than he thought? No.

Perhaps the magic had not made it here yet.

He got a beer from the fridge and drank it.

He tried the spell again. Nothing.

Perhaps it would take until the light of day. He went to bed.

He tried the spell the next morning. Still nothing. 

After trying for a week off and on, without results, he concluded that this was not his year for magic. One’s year of magic began and ended with the winter solstice. That year fell between a person’s fortieth and fiftieth birthdays. He’d been so sure he’d get his magic when he first became eligible. He was fully prepared. It ought to have come.

Or maybe there was more he could have done. He resolved to study harder, now that he had another year to prepare. 

 

Russ sat on the divan, eyes glued to the tv. He was forty-one. He was ready. All he needed was for the clock to tick past midnight. Twelve seconds to go until the beginning of the winter solstice. He had thought he was ready last year. This year he knew he was ready.

His grimoire was open to the correct page. The ingredients for the spell were arrayed on the coffee table.

On the tv, the clock struck midnight. Fireworks exploded in the air behind it. Blues, yellows and pinks. Bright bands of color in complex geometrical shapes. Was that technology or skill?

“Fre beum di atum. Co solore doluit. Aver!”

Oops. He was supposed to light the candle first.

“Fre beum di atum. Co solore doluit. Aver!”

The candle flame flickered a tiny bit. Nothing else happened. He finished his bottle of beer. Maybe he’d have better luck in the morning.

 

Russ sat back in the recliner. At forty-two, he recognized that this might not be his magic year. He’d discovered the writings of Ian of Nagul. They’d offered insights into ripening of the magical body. Magic came when the body, mind and spirit were most perfectly attuned to each other. The more perfect, the stronger the magic could be. He’d spent the last six months aligning his body, mind and spirit. It may or may not have been enough.

On the tv, the clock struck midnight. Fireworks exploded in the air behind it. Sparks aggregated in shapes that resembled legions of mythical beasts. It was quite phenomenal.

He lit the red candle, then the blue, and finally the violet one.

“Fre beum di atum. Co solore doluit. Aver!”

The furnace came on. According to the weather station, it was minus six outside. Cold, even for the solstice.

He poured a glass of brandy. Nope. He wasn’t quite ready this year.

 

Russ sat forward in his recliner. He was forty-three and Ian of Nagul was a fraud. But the nearly a year of workshops and on-line seminars was not a total loss. He’d met Sally last summer at one of them. They quickly became study partners. By September, they were partners with benefits. Not long after, Ian had been arrested for suspicious accounting activities, but they didn’t care. They’d found their own ways to understand how to call magic. 

Like Russ, Sally had her own year-long plan of magical activities. They each expected to get their magic this year. Assuming that happened, they’d keep in touch, but plan to reconnect once their years were over.

On the tv, the clock struck midnight. Fireworks exploded in the air behind it. Russ got another beer. Then he opened the grimoire.

“Fre beum di atum. Co solore doluit. Aver!”

Nothing happened.

He called Sally. Nothing happened for her, either.

 

Russ sat in his recliner. Sally sat on the divan. Twenty seconds to go until the beginning of the winter solstice. Russ’ grimoire sat on a tray table before him. Hers was on the coffee table. In order to keep their magics separate, Russ would try his spell first. After determining whether or not it worked, Sally would try hers.

On the tv, the clock struck midnight. Fireworks exploded in the air behind it. Russ stood up. With an audience, it seemed more appropriate.

“Fre beum di atum. Co solore doluit. Aver!”

Nothing happened. He sat down.

Sally stood.

“Mei halpa gunu. Mei halpa gunu. Mei halpa gunu.”

Russ wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen in her case. But it didn’t seem that anything happened.

She sat down.

“Shit,” she said.

“Want another beer?” he asked.

“May as well.”

 

Russ sat next to Sally on the divan. She reached for the remote and turned off the tv.

“You know what?” she asked.

“What?” How were they going to do this if they didn’t know when the solstice began?

“This past year, even though we didn’t get magic, it was a damn good year.” She sipped her wine.

He drank his beer. She was right. It had been a good year. They’d had good times together. Magic might only last for a year, but he hoped they’d stay together longer than that. For the first time in his life, there was something more important to him than magic.

He paged through his grimoire. He no longer wanted to make copper as his first spell. He thought it would be more interesting to make a diamond.

“Do you want to try your spell first?” he asked.

“Um, ok.” Sally flipped through her grimoire. “Ah, yes. Never thought I’d be using this one.

“Felles ave.” 

She smiled the biggest, most beautiful smile possible. Russ wasn’t sure what she’d conjured, but it had made her happy. He took that as a sign of success.

Making a diamond required a supply of carbon. Russ went quickly into his office for a package of mechanical pencil refils. 

He was afraid. Sally had gotten her magic, but what if he didn’t get his? Well, he’d just have to go down to the jewelers and buy her a real diamond.

He closed his eyes.

“Fre beum di atum. Pala solore doluit. Cheshe.” He whispered the words while still in the office. He didn’t want her to hear.

He opened his eyes. On the desk sat three tiny diamonds. 

“What’s up?” Sally stood at the door.

“Consider this a down payment.” He stepped aside. “I need to get a bigger piece of carbon.”

“Aww, they’re beautiful.” 

There were fireworks that night, but not on tv.