Potential Representation

“Amira?” the assistant in the office-appropriate pencil skirt beckoned with a smile. “Zoe’s ready for you. Come on in.”

The nervous yet hopeful young woman sitting in the lobby stilled the impatient bouncing of her leg and hurriedly stood up—water bottle in one hand, Book of Shadows tucked in the other arm.

“Great, thanks,” Amira said.

The assistant led her up the sweeping marble stairs, out of the intentionally intimidating high-ceilinged lobby. Once in the main work area of the building, they wound past desks of busy assistants and coordinators, catching snippets of their calls (“I have Katie Rothko for you.” “Let me see if I can get him.” “Left word!”)

She tried not to be intimidated by the posters on the walls of the legendary sorcerers that the agency represented. Some of the iconic ceremonies Amira remembered reading about as a child, wishing she could have witnessed them in person. She tried to steady her breathing as the assistant dutifully led her into a corner office with floor to ceiling windows that provided a view of the entire city.

Zoe Levenstein stood up from her desk and walked around it to shake Amira’s hand warmly.

“Amira Marigold, it is so great to finally meet you in person.”

“Likewise,” Amira managed to croak out, hoping Zoe didn’t notice how sweaty her palms were.

Zoe steered her over to two stiff, white, trendy chairs with a coffee table between them.

Amira took a sip from her water bottle, grateful that she had accepted it when the receptionist offered.

“So,” Zoe said, settling in and fixing an appraising gaze on Amira. “Tell me about yourself.”

“Well,” Amira said, gathering her courage to recite the bullet points she had spent weeks practicing with her roommate. “I grew up in Berkeley, California. I realized I had the Sight when I was four years old and I prevented my mother from being scalded by a boiling hot water cauldron that was about to explode on her stove. She was a basic kitchen witch, but not very good. She didn’t do much after that day except some folk magic here and there, mostly healing, like mothers do. I was recruited to Miss Stipplesew’s Magic Academy in Los Angeles at age 11, and I ultimately went on to major in Tarot with a minor in Kabbala and an emphasis in—”

Zoe held up her hand to stop her. Amira froze, wondering if she had done something wrong.

“I know all of that,” Zoe said, but her voice was kind. “I read your resume, and I looked at the deck proof you sent over. You did those drawings yourself?”

“Yes, I’ve been practicing divination mostly on the side since I graduated.”

“Of course,” Zoe nodded sympathetically. “It’s such a saturated market right now, especially in the tarot space. That’s why it’s so important to make sure when I sign someone as a client that not only do they have the skills—which you clearly do—but that they have a unique personal experience and perspective we can use to pitch them to publishers and bookers. Is that your grimoire?”

“Yes,” Amira said. She handed it over eagerly.

Zoe flipped through the thick notebook pages, examining the painstaking notes that Amira had taken next to the description of each of her spells. Lines indicating whether she had found success and what her adjustments were from ceremony to ceremony.

Zoe nodded in approval, especially when she looked at the sketches Amira had included and enhanced with watercolor as she worked with and refined her own tarot practice.

“This is very thorough,” Zoe said, closing the heavy book and handing it back to Amira.

“Thank you,” Amira said, though she wasn’t sure if that was actually supposed to be a compliment. “I started it in academy and have been working on it ever since I graduated."

“Amira, what are your goals as a witch?”

“Well, I’d really like to get representation and then really just I want to be paid to do readings. I don’t want to have to keep working my day job at the apothecary. I want people to come to me for my Sight and my Guidance.”

Zoe shook her head dismissively. “You’re thinking too small,” she said. “Getting an agent isn’t a goal. I’m simply someone who can be on your team and help you make the calls and connections that will get you to your real goal. Where do you see yourself as a Diviner in twenty years?”

“I… don’t know,” Amira admitted.

Zoe laughed. “You’re a Seer! Look into the future. Show us.”

Amira gulped. “Right now?”

“You want to do this professionally, don’t you?”

Amira nodded.

“Well, then you’re going to need to be able to demonstrate your skills on command. That’s what separates the professionals from just any old enchanted lucky enough to be born with the ability to receive lightning strikes of information when the gods decide to give it to them. Becoming a real witch involves mastering that ability and elevating yourself to the status of a god on earth. Those are the enchanted who can make real money and sustain lasting careers.”

Amira nodded. “So, um, what do you want to know?” She felt stupid asking, but she really didn’t want to get this wrong.

“Where does Amira Marigold see herself in twenty years? Show us what that looks like. If you want me to sign you, you’ll need to impress me—not just with the clarity and specificity of your vision, but with its contents.”

Amira nodded. Her heart threatened to beat right out of her chest. Clarity and specificity she could do. This is what she had been training for.

The contents? Well, she couldn’t affect the future, just see it. So, all she could do was hope that the universe had big plans for her.

It sounded like Zoe was expecting an immersive astral experience, not a simple reading like Amira had been expecting. She had brought her cards, but no ingredients for spells.

“I, uh, am going to need some things.”

Zoe pressed the button of the intercom next to her. “Lainey, can you come in here please?”

The assistant hurried quickly into the office.

“Tell her what you need, and she’ll get it from our kitchen.”

“Uh…” Amira knew this by heart, but her nerves emptied her brain and sent her flipping back through her Book of Shadows to the page with her future projection spell. She hoped Zoe wasn’t looking closely enough at the record to see that Amira had only successfully done this once.

“Black salt, moon water, three candles, a match, and a timepiece.”

“Full or new?” Lainey asked.

“Sorry?"

“For the moon water.”

“Oh!” Amira turned red. “Full.”

Lainey nodded with a smile and hurried out of the room.

While they waited for her to return, Zoe slid the Rolex off her left wrist and handed it over to Amira.

She looked at Zoe, confused.

“The timepiece,” Zoe said.

“Right.” Amira nodded and took it. The watch felt heavy in her hand. She continued to answer Zoe’s questions as they waited for Lainey to return, but Amira couldn’t stay focused on the conversation. She was too busy rehearsing the spell in her mind.

“Here you are.”

Amira was brought back to reality by Lainey handing her the ingredients that she’d asked for.

Zoe and Amira found a clear spot in the middle of the office and Zoe stood next to her while Amira shook the salt liberally out of its box, making a circle that enclosed both of them. Then she closed her eyes and anointed each eyelid with the moon water. The she did the same to Zoe.

Amira lit the three candles with the match, shook it out and placed it in front of the middle candle.

Amira fastened the Rolex around her left hand and with her right hand wound it forward. This required an awkward twist of her arms, but there was no other configuration that would work—she had learned the hard way.

Amira was self-conscious about how inelegant all of this looked, but Zoe simply watched silently, with polite interest.

“I invoke the spirit of Kronos, show us twenty-two years from now. I invoke the spirit of Kronos, show us twenty-two years from now. I invoke the spirit of Kronos, show us twenty-two years from now.”

Then came the hard part. The moment it usually all collapsed.

Amira needed to concentrate. Without any distractions, any conflicting thoughts, any pulls of her attention, intention, or emotion outside anything besides this goal, this spell, in this circle.

As Amira concentrated with all her might on the question, she reached out and used her right hand to pinch the flame of her candle on the far left, using the brief pain to further narrow her concentration. Then she pinched out the candle in the middle. She focused all her attention on the far right candle. The candle of the future.

Instinctively, she reached for Zoe’s hand, knowing that drawing power from a second being would further strengthen the clarity of what they would see.

The room around them outside of the circle faded away into nothingness. Amira could sense Zoe’s heart leaping with excitement next to her, but she did not allow herself to celebrate. Reacting to the spell in the middle of it would undo everything. Slowly, gradually, the room faded back in, different this time, with different furniture.

All of it was hazy, out of focus, like Amira desperately needed glasses. Her heart threatened to sink in disappointment, but Amira did not let despair creep in and rob her of her one shot at a professional breakthrough. She stayed focused on the flickering flame of the candle, and the room around her gradually came into clarity.

Once the spell had been completed, Amira allowed herself to sneak a peek at Zoe. Zoe was trying to hide her awe. Amira turned her focus back to the office around her.

They couldn’t step from the circle, but they were free to look around. Even though she knew it wouldn’t affect anything, Amira silently prayed that they future they saw would be a positive one.

Zoe gasped.

Amira turned to follow her gaze. It was Zoe, of course, seated at her desk 20 years later. She still looked amazing, but it must be jarring to see yourself aged that much.

Suddenly, Amira realized she was about to see the same thing. She braced herself, but nothing could prepare her for the sorceress who walked through that door.

Future Amira practically kicked the door in. She had bottle blonde hair and was rail thin under a designer boho peasant dress that looked like she bought it at a thrift shop but in reality cost the equivalent of an assistant’s year’s salary.

She carried a small, expensive leather handbag slung over one arm, and she wore that same Rolex that Zoe had given her on her left wrist.

“A million???” Amira flopped dramatically into the chair across from Zoe’s desk. “I hope you told them to go fuck themselves.”

“Amira, you need the work,” Zoe said patiently.

Amira rolled her eyes and pulled a baggie out of her purse. She tapped out a line on Zoe’s desk and started to cut it with an AmEx black card.

“Please don’t do that in my office.”

“Relax,” Amira said. She pulled an already rolled up hundred dollar bill out of her purse and snorted the whole thing. “It’s just undine scales. Helps keep me present. And the powder form lets me absorb it faster.”

Zoe looked concerned. “Amira, do you need to take a break? Are you becoming Untethered?”

“No!” Amira said forcefully. She did another line.

“I’m here. I’m here. My healer gave me this, and it’s been helping. It’s perfectly legal.”

“Okay,” Zoe said, unconvinced. “But if you’ve been projecting too much—if you need to take a break, I can call the PR department and arrange a story. Vacation, exhaustion, elective surgery. Hell, we could even find you a husband and get you out on an extended honeymoon.”

Amira glared at her.

“A wife then?”

“You said it yourself. I need the work. I can do the tour,” Amira insisted. “I’m fine.” She scraped the bottom of her baggie for any remaining powder residue and gummed it around her mouth.

“Just get them up to 5 million, or I’ll find an agent who can.”

Amira got up to leave.

“How’s the new grimoire coming?” Zoe asked.

Amira grimaced. A cloud of self-doubt rolled across her face, but she masked it before turning back around.

“Great,” she lied. “I’ll have something for you soon.” Double lie.

“Okay,” Zoe said gently. “But you know I’m here if you need anything. If you ever want to talk.”

Amira gave her a cruel smile. “Zoe, you’re my agent, not my friend. What I need is for you to get me the money.”

She stormed out.

Inside the circle, Present Amira felt a pit in her stomach. She was mortified. She quickly picked up the future candle and used it to light the middle one. She turned the watch back three times.

“Hecate,” she chanted quickly. “take us home. Hecate, take us home. Hecate, take us home.”

She pinched out the future candle, and with a shift in focus, the regular office came back into view.

Amira stepped out of the circle, shell-shocked. There was a reason most Diviners didn’t do projections.

Without skipping a beat, Zoe reached over to her desk and pressed an intercom button. “Lainey, can you please come clean this up?”

She noticed Amira’s white face. “And bring one of the cinnamon saltwater recovery tonics.”

“I’m so sorry,” Amira managed to say. “I can’t believe I wasted your time like that. I’m so embarrassed at what a—”

“Amira,” Zoe interrupted, a serious expression on her face for the first time all meeting. “That. Was. Incredible.”

“What?” This was not the reaction Amira had been expecting. “I was a nightmare. A total asshole! Sorry.”

“You were a diva,” Zoe reassured her, taking the bottle Lainey brought in and handing it to Amira.

Amira uncorked it and drank deeply. It tasted horrid, but the room stopped swimming. Blood rushed back to her clammy face. She started to feel like herself again.

“I meet with witches and magicians all the time,” Zoe gushed. “Never have I seen someone with such a promising trajectory.”

“But I was a mess,” Amira protested. “I was horrible. I completely lose touch with reality. I didn’t recognize myself.”

Zoe waved her hand dismissively. “You were on a downswing. Do you realize how high you have to go to fall that hard? You’re going to bring so much money into this agency.”

Amira started to take the watch off her wrist, but Zoe stopped her.

“No.” She put her hand on Amira's. “Keep it. As a show of good faith. My gift to you as we move into our future.” Zoe stood up proudly and held her hand out to shake. “Welcome aboard.”

Amira looked down at the watch.

She stared at Zoe’s outstretched hand, beckoning.