While Mena talked to Farida, Newt tried to quench his curiosity by observing any change in his tone and voice. Although Mena was relatively more calm than before, there were moments when he sounded agitated again. For long minutes, he continued to speak, with Farida interrupting him only a few times to ask questions. Throughout the conversation, she had the same sympathetic expression, which made Newt believe that Mena's story was not particularly a happy one.

But just as Newt's incredible patience was starting to fail him, the conversation finally came to an end. There was silence afterwards, but before it became too awkward, Farida had turned to Newt.

"It's a long story and not a pleasant one," she said, somewhat gravely, "but I think it has some of the information we need."

She told Newt the gist of everything Mena had just said. It turned out that years ago, he used to secretly work with Ibrahim. His job was to supply him with food for the creatures he'd been trafficking, without the knowledge of the owner of Cynopolis. According to him, Ibrahim did not want his name to be mentioned anywhere or known to anyone. He did his job in the shadows, so he tried to avoid bringing even the slightest attention to his existence.

At first, Mena had not been aware of that. He hadn't even known the name or the identity of the person he worked with, since he only dealt with his minions. But he had no problem, and hence asked no questions, as long as he didn't have to steal anything from the shop. When it came to that, Mena's conscience was at ease. Ibrahim paid the price of whatever he bought, just like any regular customer would do, in addition to some extra Galleons for Mena in return for secrecy. All seemed well.

However, after a while, things began to take a new turn. The owner of the shop had noticed that many goods were missing, even though the income of the shop hadn't diminished. To Mena's relief, she concluded that nothing had been stolen, yet she had addressed him directly and asked him to explain. Mena had no other choice but to lie and tell her that those goods were sold, but he must have forgotten to record them. The woman scolded him, saying that could cause her trouble with the Ministry's Finance Department, and at that moment Mena realized he could no longer help Ibrahim.

"You'd think it ends here," said Farida, throwing a glance at Mena's face. "But it only got worse. Next day, one of Makram's men came to him and asked for a large amount of supplies and food, because they were leaving Egypt. Mena refused, of course, and the man insisted for quite some time, but in the end decided to leave. An hour later he came back, asking Mena to accompany him to meet Makram. He told me he saw many creatures locked up there. But you should've heard how he described the man himself, Newt... how calm he was, yet how frightening."

"I can only imagine," Newt replied quietly, the image of Ibrahim's cruel eyes invading his memory.

"Makram explained to him politely what they need," Farida continued, drawing Newt's attention back to the story. "But then Mena explained why he couldn't.  But Makram insisted, and suddenly his politeness turned into threats. He said he knew that Mena was a Half-Wizard who can't protect himself, and that he knew everything about his family, and that Mena would pay the price. Out of fear, Mena couldn't help but agree to help him one last time, but as he left, he realized there was a way out. He went home to his family, took the first train to Alexandria and they stayed there for two weeks, hoping that Makram and his gang would have left Egypt by that time."

"And he was correct, wasn't he?" said Newt.

"Yes. He returned to Cairo, and none of these people came to him. Mena thought he wouldn't have to deal with them ever again, but one can't always get what one wishes for," she let out a deep sigh, "they came back asking for his help by threatening him, and here we are."

Newt fell silent, feeling sorry for the man.

"But there is good news." Farida's face lit up. "The boy we saw at Cynopolis told Mena he has to meet him with the things they want tonight. They have a meeting point and everything."

At first Newt wasn't sure how that was good news, but after a moment of consideration he answered, " So maybe if we go with him, we could finally know where to find Ibrahim, and we could also help Mena somehow. Is that what you're thinking?"

Farida nodded with a smile. She looked at Mena and explained to him what they were going to do. A relieved sigh escaped Mena's mouth, and he clasped her hand and shook it in gratitude. Farida winced as if she had just touched a scorching surface, but Mena didn't seem to notice that at all. He turned to shake Newt's hand in a similar way.

"He's still too worried," Farida told Newt quietly as they watched Mena leave. "But I think we've brought him some comfort. That's what matters."

The few remaining hours of the day took forever to pass, and Newt's worrying didn't make the wait any better. Now that they were back at Farida's place, he busied himself with his creatures, hoping they would distract him from his nagging thoughts.

But it was not himself he worried about. Surely he knew the danger awaiting him, and he didn't underestimate it, but when he had arrived in Egypt, there was nothing on his mind except the Thunderbird and its safety. But now he had two people he needed to protect. What if he failed and something horrible happened to Farida or Mena? He would never forgive himself.

"Listen, Farida," Newt said, putting down a vial of Swooping Evil venom he was experimenting with. "You don't have to come with me. It's too dangerous."

Farida looked at him and didn't respond. It was hard to read her expression.

"You see," Newt continued, feeling that he had to, "I have dealt with creature traffickers before, and trust me, most of them will do anything, no matter how bad, to protect their business. And you've read it yourself and known what Ibrahim was capable of when he was young, and you've heard what Mena said about him. What if you got hurt by that terrible man?"

"Well, what if you got hurt?" she said, a little irritably. It reminded Newt of her tone when they had first met by the Nile. "If you aren't worried about yourself, then be worried about your creatures. If something happens to you, at least I'll be there to take care of them."

Newt hadn't thought about it this way. She made a good point, but he still felt it was too risky to bring her with him. He was about to open his mouth, but Farida cut him off.

"Why are you worried about me?" She asked sharply. "I can perform magic. Maybe I'm the worst at it, but I can. I am not helpless."

"No, no, no." Newt shook his head vigorously, now realizing why Farida had got defensive. "That's not what I meant. I'm not trying to protect you because I don't think you can protect yourself. I know you can. I just don't like using people as pawns... it's not acceptable and I don't believe it's right." He thought of Dumbledore and fell silent, finding nothing more to say.

"Don't worry, then," Farida said, her voice mild again. "I'll come because that's my choice and that's what I feel I should do. I can conjure a shield and tie hands momentarily if I concentrate enough. That might be helpful to us."

A thought popped up in Newt's head, and he said it quickly, "You told me that using a wand was easier for you, didn't you?"

Farida nodded. "I wish I had one with me right now."

"Wait a second." Newt rummaged in one of the drawers to his left. "I remember putting it somewhere... oh yes, here it is!"

He brought out a dusty wand and handed it to Farida. She looked skeptical and didn't touch it.

"It's my spare wand," Newt explained to her. "Dealing with magical beasts means you're very prone to have your wand broken. I had two that got damaged beyond repair, so I thought I should buy a spare just in case I broke the one I had and wasn't near any place that sold wands. I never broke another one, though, which is quite disappointing, given how useless it made the spare wand seem. Now come on, give it a flick."

Farida took the wand slowly and removed the dust covering it using her sleeve. Her lips broke into a broad smile as she pointed the wand at one of the shelves inside the suitcase. She murmured something hardly audible, and a jet of yellow light hit the shelf, causing it to fall with a loud crash which startled her as well as Newt.

"So that's why the people at the training said we should never use a wand to perform Egyptian spells?" She said in childish amazement. Then she turned to Newt and added, "I am sorry about your shelf, Newt. This spell was supposed to make the bottle on it float."

He couldn't help but chuckle as he cast the Reparo spell at the destroyed shelf.

Newt spent the remainder of the time teaching Farida some useful spells, some of which she already knew but needed more practice. It was clear that she had trouble performing magic, yet it seemed less challenging for her to do it using a wand.

She was a quick learner, too, when it came to incantations and hand movements. She never once failed to produce a certian effect by each spell, but it was just not powerful enough most of the time. The jets of light were fainter, and the overall effect was weak, as though there wasn't enough magic passing through the core of the wand. Newt noticed that and kept it to himself.

At last the night came, and during the last remaining hour, Newt and Farida prepared what they thought would be useful for them. He had his Invisibility Cloak as well the Beast-Detecting Powder he had bought earlier. Farida took nothing with her but the wand.

They got out of the suitcase, only to find Marzoo hovering above it and peeking at it mischievously. He turned to Newt and told him something in what Newt believed was an attempt of a sweet voice.

"He asks if he could live in the suitcase," Farida said, "I'll tell him no."

For a moment Newt considered how interesting it would be to have a Poltergeist he could study, but he abandoned the idea on realizing that the rest of his creatures probably wouldn't forgive him for it.

A kind breeze welcomed them outside, and the moon shone between the grey clouds which moved serenely across the night sky. The shadows of the houses destroyed by fire danced in the empty street, making Newt feel, yet again, that it was better not to look or think about their gruesome fate. He tightened his grip on the handle of the suitcase, then turned to Farida and wordlessly clutched the sleeve of her extended arm.

Wandless Apparition was considerably less uncomfortable this time. Newt didn't know if he was growing used to it, or if he was simply so anxious that the discomfort of Apparation was subdued by the unease of his own mind. "You can't control your thoughts," he said to himself, trying to be logical, "but you can control your actions, and at least the outcome you're worried about depends on them." And with that repeating in his head, he opened his eyes.

They were standing on soft grass, in a place where, at the first glance, there seemed to be no one but them. It was eerily quiet, and for some reason it made Newt's hair stand up on the back of his neck. There was also nothing else in the vicinity — no trees, no buildings and no sign of life — and yet Newt felt that they weren't entirely alone. He was apprehensive and he didn't know why. He just felt that the place hid more than it exposed, and he couldn't explain the feeling, not even to himself.

"I'm sorry, I never came her before, and I didn't expect it to be this bad," Farida said in a hardly audible whisper, with an air of solemnity which the atmosphere seemed to impose. She was gazing at the grimace on Newt's face.

"What is this place?" Newt asked, also in a whisper. But something about his low voice didn't seem normal to him. He couldn't grasp what it was, and this only added up to the pile of things he couldn't explain but was sure were true.

"The Graveyard of the Troubled," Farida answered, her lips barely moving, and her expression stiff. She wrapped her coat more firmly around her and added, "Under our feet dead people lie. Not entirely dead, though, that's why they are troubled. It's a very good choice if you want to meet someone to have illegal business done. Nobody likes to come here, and I think you get why."

"Not entirely dead?" Newt replied, again in a strange low voice. He had no intention to speak loudly, but he didn't intend his whisper to be that soft, either. "Do you mean like ghosts?"

"No, it is more like a sleep that can but must not be disturbed," she said slowly, and this time Newt had to strain his ears to hear her. "Ghosts are awake. The Troubled are asleep, but loud voices of the living could awaken them. And when they wake up, they fill the air with screams, either sad ones because of realizing their cursed fate, or angry ones because they don't like to be disturbed. Nobody knows for sure. And those screams are so terrible that they could turn even the wisest of men insane... or that's what they told us at our school Iunu."

A chill ran up Newt's spine as he tried to imagine how horrific that could be.

"Have you noticed you can only speak in whispers?" Farida continued after a moment's silence, shuddering a little.

"Yes," he answered. "It's like there's an invisible hand muffling my voice."

"That's ancient magic that the Ministry keeps activating," she explained. "It keeps voices as low as they should be. And I think it's magnificent, because the last time a Troubled awakened was centuries ago. I'm even trying to shout right now but I can't do it."

"It's very smart, I agree," Newt nodded.

"But it's still a horrible place. It makes me feel cold." She rubbed her hands togther for warmth, then glanced at her wristwatch and fell silent.

Newt also looked at his watch. Mena and Ibrahim's boy would arrive any time now, so he thought they'd better get ready. He brought out the Invisibility Cloak and threw it over him and Farida. It was too small, and they had to bend down slightly for it to conceal them completely.

After a few silent minutes, they heard a pop behind them, which marked the arrival of Ibrahim's boy. He passed right next to them, and stood still, his arms folded against his chest. Newt wondered if being in the Graveyard of the Troubled had any unpleasant effect on him as well. The boy's face wasn't visible enough in the moonlight, so Newt couldn't tell.

Then after another minute, they heard the sound of footsteps approaching and soon the trembling figure of Mena came into view. He was dragging a large leather sack behind him, and when he finally arrived, he placed the sack at the boy's feet and took some steps back. He kept glancing nervously around him, and Newt could hear his heavy breathing.

Without saying a word, the boy opened the sack and gave its contents a quick look. Then out of his pocket he brought a bag of money and threw it carelessly to Mena, who was still shaking but didn't utter a word. The boy carried the sack and walked away in steady unhurried steps, leaving Mena behind.

When the boy was far enough, Farida leaned over and whispered something to Mena. He sighed in relief and seemed glad to leave the Graveyard as fast as he could.

"It's our only chance now," Newt said to her. "We have to follow the boy."