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New Hope, Pennsylvania, present day

The waxing moon was halfway to full. Victoria Perry had chosen New Hope for its quaint feel, artistic bent, and large pagan community. She was also drawn to this historic town in Pennsylvania because she sensed the presence of Iman, Mina, and Uzma, her ancient sisters. Together with Victoria, they were the Triad Witches, united in a common purpose. Their energetic imprint was unmistakable.

The vacant storefront on Main Street was central to sidewalk traffic; increasing the likelihood that they would find their way into her antique shop. While she would have preferred a building with a more Victorian feel, the colonial was spacious and perfect for her purposes. It had an adequate area to display antiques, a separate room in the back for meetings, and a basement for storage. An apartment upstairs allowed her to live above and work below.As above so below, she thought.

Her realtor, George Washburn, had been too friendly in his manner. He did not notice when Victoria bristled as he threw out one personal question after another. She did not like to reveal information about herself and resented his barrage of questions about where she came from, her last business, her age—of all things, the standard don’t-ask-that-of-a-woman question. She was vague in her responses, as she answered—Italy, unique clothing, and “Now, Mr. Washburn, a lady doesn’t reveal her age!” If she had told him the truth, he would not have believed her.

She could have told him her age in this lifetime, but it was best to act coy. She was only 35 this time around, and had spent most of those years coming back into her power and locating the others. As for her business in Benevento, in her last lifetime, she catered to the Strega, the local covens of Italian Witches, selling ritual supplies and clothing. Witches had occupied Benevento for several thousand years. A massive walnut tree was the gathering place of witches who worshipped the goddess Diana. When the Duke of Benevento converted to Christianity in 662 A.D., he had their sacred tree cut down. Her customers remained steadfast in their beliefs despite their oppressive history and regularly practiced their craft, necessitating the replenishing of candles, herbs, and incense. Victoria looked back upon that time as one of profit and camaraderie. The witches of Benevento had treated her as one of their own. She had not felt a sense of belonging since being a part of the Triad Witches.

Victoria thanked the realtor, and the stars, as he handed her the keys at the settlement table. His insincere sales approach grated on her nerves. It was strenuous to hold her tongue and her power at bay as he rambled