“I am not.” Huda picked a pebble from the bank and hurled it into the water. “Haven’t you ever noticed the henna on your jaddah’s temples?”

“The spirals?”

“The sheikha suffers terrible headaches, right? Well, my jaddah cures them with henna and special prayers. She knows how to ward off the evil eye and how to make potions for stomachaches and broken hearts. She can read coffee grounds too.”

“My father says fortune-tellers trade in ignorance.”

Huda snorted.

“Well, he is a man. They don’t know everything.”

“If your father hears you talk like that, he’ll beat you for sure.”

Huda eyed her evenly.

“My father is dead.”

“Oh,” mumbled Rania. “I’m sorry.”

Huda shrugged.

“He died when I was a baby. I have two brothers though. Of course, they would have to catch me to beat me, and I am too fast for them.” She tossed another pebble in the stream. “I’ll show you. Come on, let’s race.”

“I better not . . .”

“Afraid I’ll beat you?”

“Of course not,” lied Rania. Huda was a village girl. They were always fast.

“Then to the chicken coop and back. Let’s go!”

The two girls sprinted to the coop and back, then twice ran a looping circle around the house. Huda outran Rania, but not by much. The girls collapsed on the riverbank, panting, skinny legs splayed out before them. Huda’s bare soles were painted red. Rania eyed them curiously.

“Did your grandmother cast a spell to make you so fast?”

“No, silly. The henna cures any cuts on my feet. Don’t you know anything?”

Rania tossed her hair.

“I know how to add and subtract. I can do my times table. I can count to one hundred in English and French. I can read and paint and draw. Can you?”

“Well, I can draw. . . .” Huda picked up a stick and dragged it through the sand. “See?”

“What is that? A crow?”

“It’s my water buffalo! Can’t you see his horns?”

“They look like wings to me.” Rania stuck her hand in her pocket and removed the tiny perfume bottles. “Here. Hold these to the sun.”

The two girls took turns shining red and blue light on the sand, then Rania uncorked the vials, and the girls daubed themselves with jasmine and frankincense.

“These are my magic potions,” boasted Rania. “Strong enough to defeat even the smell of that stinky chicken coop. They cost me five dinar.”

“Five dinar? You paid five dinar for perfume?”

“It’s not so much.”

Huda’s eyes widened. She rifled through the pockets of her dress.

“I have magic too. I can tell the future. Want to see?”

She opened her fist, revealing a jumble of tiny bones, a seashell, and a few glass beads.