Both Newt and Farida had remained silent for the remainder of their time inside the shop. Farida was listening intently to the whispers of the two men, and Newt was having a difficult time stifling his curiosity.

However, it hadn't taken the saleswoman long to show up, and when they had purchased what they needed, there was no other choice but to leave. Farida had come to a brief halt as she passed the conversing men and caught the last trace of their suspicious conversation.

"How did you know that?" Newt asked the moment they stepped out of the shop. "What were they saying?"

"He was threatening him," Farida answered. "Saying things like, 'he won't wait for too long,' and 'we are leaving in a few days, so you better bring it tonight.'"

"Bring what?" Newt said.

"He didn't say." Farida shrugged. "But what could he possibly want from someone who works at Cynopolis if it wasn't something that has to do with beasts?"

Newt could see her logic, but still, he had some doubt.

"I know I might be wrong," Farida added, making Newt wonder if his doubt showed on his face. "But I have a strong feeling that this boy will lead us to where Makram is."

No sooner had she said that than the door of the shop opened, and the young man walked out of it, looking ahead without even glancing elsewhere. The ground beneath his feet continued to flash, casting protective spells with every steady step he took. Newt noticed a triumphant smirk on his face; he must have reached an agreement, or forced it, with the man inside.

When he was finally out of sight, Newt turned to Farida. "We could only know for sure by asking the salesman. Do you think he will talk?"

"We'll only know if we try, but I hope he does."

The bell above their heads rang as the went in again. The woman inside grinned at them and asked, "Have you forgotten something?"

"Er—no," said Newt. He glanced at the counter where the man had been, and he was surprised when he didn't find him there. He thought about what to say next, but before he could find any words, Farida had stepped in.

"We are looking for your colleague, actually," she said with a polite smile.

"Mena?" the woman asked.

Farida hesitated for a second before nodding. She must have realized, like Newt, that Mena was the man's name.

"He said he needed a little rest, so I can help you if there's anything else you need from the shop."

"You see—comment tu t'apelles?"

"Marianne," she answered brightly.

"You see, Marianne," Farida continued. "Mena reminds me of someone I used to know at school, and I just wanted to see if they are related or if he knows him."

"Well, then, wait a minute s'il vous plaît," Marianne replied, looking convinced. She turned around, and called Mena's name.

Next moment, a door at the back of the shop opened and the man called Mena showed up. His face was pallid, and his hands were trembling, yet he wore a neutral expression to mask his clear agitation. Marianne explained to him what Farida had told her as he approached his spot behind the counter.

Mena said something to Farida in Arabic, and seemed to pay no attention to Newt who stood next to her. Newt noticed how he kept running his fingers through his black hair, and how his eyes kept darting at the door as if expecting his harasser to return at any moment. Newt felt truly sorry for him, and then wondered what he and Farida were saying. Mena's lips were barely moving as he talked, but other than that he didn't seem reluctant to speak.

"We'll have to wait until he finishes work," Farida whispered after a minute. "He says he can't talk about it here. We will meet him outside the Market in three hours."

"How did you get him to talk so easily?" Newt waited until they were back among the crowd of the Geb Market to ask his question. From how uncomfortable Mena looked, Newt thought it would have taken more time.

"I lied," Farida answered with a sort of mischievous grin. "Told him that we are both Aurors and that we have been suspecting that boy for a while. He believed me immediately. People tend to believe anything when they are in trouble. I feel bad for him," she added in genuine sympathy.

"Did you ask him if that boy works for Ibrahim?" Newt wondered. After all, he thought it would be futile to wait if that didn't lead them to where the Thunderbird was.

"No," Farida said slowly, her grin disappearing. "I'm sorry... I just had a good feeling that he does... I don't know why, but —"

"Don't apologize," Newt cut her off gently. "You are an Empath. If you have a good feeling about something, then I trust it is true."

Farida's face lit up again. If Newt was to be honest, he didn't know for sure if an Empath's ability included a perfectly reliable intuition as well. But it was his own intuition that told him to trust Farida's, and so he did.

Since all they had to do now was wait, Newt and Farida ambled through the Geb Market in order to kill time. They entered a bookshop which had the largest collection of history books that Newt had ever seen. When Newt opened one of them out of curiosity, the book began to recite its contents in a clear, feminine voice.

Feeling hungry as it was past midday, they purchased two cones of roasted sweet potatoes and ate them. After that, time wore on for Newt; even as he passed a shop that displayed something as intriguing as moving sculptures, he wasn't interested to check them out. He told himself that he had seen them before during his previous visit, and that there wouldn't be something to impress him.

In his new boredom, Newt's thoughts returned to rescuing the Thunderbird and if it would work out after all. It was one of these moments which he often experienced throughout his life. Doubt would erupt inside him for no apparent reason, filling him with apprehension about having to face an unknown enemy. The shrewd eyes of Makram Ibrahim lingered on Newt's memory, surveying him in a haughty way. He tried hard to ignore that image, then put his hand in his pocket fearing that Farida might accidentally brush against it and feel what he felt. His other grip tightened on the handle of the suitcase.

Finally, it was time to leave the Market. They walked towards the exit gates, and there a female guard stopped them and asked Newt politely to lower his head a little so that she could reach it. She placed two fingers on Newt's temples and started murmuring. Then it seemed as if Newt's mind was a sky full of impenetrable clouds where no sun shone and nothing existed. He remained in this state for a period of time he couldn't estimate; to him it felt like mere seconds which lasted for hours and maybe even days.

Then a little voice inside Newt's head told him to open his eyes. He did, and all the clouds seemed to dissipate in the daylight, and the light of recognizing his surroundings again. He was standing in front of the gates where many people crowded, and behind those gates was nothing but deserted land. He had been successfully Obliviated.

"You should have seen your face," Farida's voice spoke next to him, and Newt turned to see her amused expression. "I had to grab you by the hand just to get out, and you almost dropped the suitcase there at the gates. It was like you fell asleep, but with your eyes wide open. How did it feel to you?"

Newt described it to her, but as he talked he couldn't help but dwell on what she said. I had to grab you by the hand... then she must have sensed his worry. But if she had, why hadn't she mentioned it? He glimpsed at her face to see if there was a hint of the answer there, but found nothing of the sort.

"Oh, here he comes," Farida announced, indicating Mena who had just appeared from behind of the gates. He was approaching them slowly, and as his face became more visible, Newt saw that he looked slightly relaxed, although he was still pale.

Mena gave them an acknowledging nod, and said something in a voice so low that Newt wondered how Farida could hear him. Then he began to walk away, and Farida beckoned Newt to follow.

"He says he can't talk here," Farida explained. "He's afraid one of the guards might hear something."

For minutes they trotted along the wide street, away from the Geb Market and towards a less crowded area. Mena was silent during those minutes, and he was staring intently into the ground like someone who was walking alone. His expression grew more blank with every passing moment.

Finally, he came to a stop in front of a small, apparently vacant building. Only then had Newt wondered why he didn't lead them there by Side-Along Apparition. However, he had no chance to ponder that question; without warning, Mena had broken into tears.

Clueless about what to do, Newt threw a look at Farida who seemed to be just as surprised by Mena's sudden outburst. He was weeping loudly, and through his sobs came words which Newt didn't understand, but which sounded incoherent from how fast he uttered them. It was heart-wrenching for Newt to watch someone in such state.

Then the worst happened. Mena's tone turned to that of pleading, and he cluctched Farida's hands firmly. Horror spread over Farida's face, and all the anguish that Mena showed and which she now felt seemed to suffocate her. Her eyes were wide with fear and tears began to well up in them. Her mouth was agape but no sound came out of it.

Newt made to interfere, and that turned Mena's attention to him. He held Newt's hand in the same manner, and in a hushed voice begged, "Help me... please." It was the first time he spoke to Newt.

Sniffing and wiping his tears with a handkerchief, Mena became significantly calmer afterwards. Newt turned to Farida to see if the emotion that had overwhelmed her was allayed, too. She didn't look frightened anymore, but instead her face was grim with pity and sorrow. Newt asked if she was all right.

"I am," she answered in an impressively even tone. "I just haven't seen anyone who's that scared before, and it took me by surprise. He is so scared, Newt," Here her voice quavered, "I couldn't understand much from him when he was talking so fast. But he said he's been threatened and his family is in danger and worst of all, he can't protect them because he's a —"

"A Squib?" Newt guessed abruptly. That would explain why he didn't Apparate instead of walk.

"Is that what you call Half-Wizards?" Farida asked after a second of consideration. "People who are born to magical parents, but have dormant magic and so they can't perform it themselves. If you call them Squibs, then yes, he is a Squib."

The concept of dormant magic was new and seemed intriguing to Newt, but the time wasn't suitable for any questions regarding it. He nodded in affirmation, and threw a sympathetic glance at Mena who was silent and glum. Newt knew he had to help him, even if that didn't lead him to the Thunderbird in the end. He could save them both. How exactly, he didn't know, but he wouldn't forgive himself if he did otherwise.

"Please ask him to tell us more about those who want to hurt him," Newt told Farida. "Who are they? And why do they want to? We need to know everything in order to help him."

Farida turned to Mena and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. She spoke to him softly, wearing a most reassuring expression. When she finished her questions, it took Mena some moments before he replied. And when he did, it was in a slow whisper which echoed in Newt's head despite its brevity. For the name of Makram Ibrahim was all what Mena said, and all what Newt had heard. Farida's inutition was correct after all.