Chương 16: The Pigman Mask
It was barely dawn, and the forest was cloaked in shadows as Newt and David floated silently on a magic carpet above the trees. The air was cool, and the forest below seemed endless—a vast expanse of green stretching in all directions.
Newt had his reasons for caution. Though they weren't certain the thieves were still lurking, the discovery of the Chimaera was no coincidence. A creature that rare wouldn't simply wander off. Its presence suggested the thieves had been active recently, and it wasn't safe to patrol the forest on foot anymore.
Now confident the thieves had likely fled, Newt decided the efficiency of the magic carpet was worth the small risk.
David, however, was less enthusiastic. Leaning against Newt's back, he absentmindedly twirled his wand. At first, the sight of the forest was exciting. But after hours of staring at the same unbroken sea of green, his initial enthusiasm gave way to boredom and drowsiness.
Newt suddenly shook him awake. "David, look!" he said, pointing excitedly.
David quickly sat up, rubbing his eyes. Below them was an unusual sight: a clearing in the middle of the dense forest, its barren patch standing out sharply against the surrounding trees.
A Burned Camp and a Golden Feather
Newt landed the magic carpet at the edge of the clearing. The area was surrounded by large piles of felled timber. Scattered among the ruins were the remains of burned tents, blackened and crumbling.
"They were attacked," Newt muttered after a quick inspection. "Those tents aren't cheap. They wouldn't burn them unless something forced their hand."
"Attacked? By the Ministry of Magic?" David asked, curious.
Newt shook his head. "Unlikely. I haven't heard of any raids recently. But let's look around. There may still be clues."
The two passed through a rough wooden gate and ventured deeper into the clearing. In the center stood several large iron cages, all badly damaged. Around them were scattered feathers and scales—traces of magical creatures that had either escaped or been taken away. Judging by the state of the camp, the latter seemed more probable.
"David, come here!" Newt called out, crouching near the ashes.
David hurried over to find Newt holding a small golden feather, about two inches long. "This is from a Golden Snidget!" Newt said, his voice tinged with anger.
David's eyes widened. "Golden Snidgets? They caught those? But they're protected—aren't there people dedicated to safeguarding them?"
"There are," Newt said grimly, "but it seems the R Organization is more determined than ever. They're targeting highly valuable magical creatures this time."
Newt continued to search, uncovering more feathers and scales. His face grew darker with each discovery. "Whoever attacked this camp, I've heard nothing about it from the Ministry. Were these animals rescued, or simply sold off somewhere else?"
While Newt scoured the ground for traces of magical creatures, David wandered toward one of the burned tents. Using his wand, he carefully lifted charred debris, revealing items beneath that had been partially spared by the fire.
Under a large piece of wood, something caught his eye—a corner of an object with strange markings. Clearing the rest of the debris, he pulled out what appeared to be a mask. Its surface was cold and smooth, and it depicted the face of a pigman—a grotesque creature that resembled a boar. The mask, strangely, was completely intact.
Intrigued, David carried it over to Newt, who was still focused on the ground. "Grandpa, look at this. What is it?"
Newt took the mask and examined it closely. "This is one of the masks worn by members of the R Organization," he explained. "They use these to conceal their identities during raids. Each mask is personalized with an image of a magical creature. This one must have belonged to someone important."
He handed the mask back to David. "Keep it. It might be useful later."
David nodded and slipped the mask into his bag, feeling a chill at the thought of the sinister group it represented.
The sun was high in the sky when they finally finished combing the clearing. Newt even moved the heavy iron cages to check beneath them, but they found nothing else of significance. Despite the lack of solid leads, the mask confirmed that the R Organization had been active in the area.
David, exhausted from the hours of searching, slumped against one of the piles of wood. His stomach grumbled loudly, a reminder of the meager breakfast Newt had hastily given him before dragging him onto the magic carpet.
"Grandpa," David called, "it's late. Can we go back and eat now?"
Newt looked at the clearing one last time, then nodded. "Alright. Let's head home."
He took David's hand, and with a crack, they Apparated back to the house.
Back at home, the table was set with a spread of delicious food. Tina greeted them warmly as she set down a steaming dish of roasted meat. "How did it go?" she asked, her tone a mix of concern and curiosity.
Newt hung his coat by the door. "We found their camp," he replied, sitting at the table. "They were attacked by another group. It seems there was a serious fight."
Tina raised an eyebrow. "Do you think the animals were rescued?"
"I'm not sure," Newt admitted, picking up his fork.
"Newt Scamander!" Tina snapped, glaring at him. "Wash your hands first!"
Newt froze mid-bite, then quickly stood and shuffled to the kitchen, muttering, "I forgot, I forgot."
David, returning from the kitchen after washing his own hands, chuckled at the sight. Grandpa, you really thought you could sneak food past Grandma? he thought.
As they ate, Newt outlined his plan to visit the Ministry of Magic the next day to report what they had found. Though no closer to stopping the R Organization, they were more determined than ever to bring justice to those who preyed on magical creatures.
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