That last part came out a bit mocking, and Hadia’s eyes narrowed before she nodded.
Fatma wasted little time donning gym clothes from a closet. She was overly eager for this. Grabbing a practice sword, she walked to the center of the room.
“How are we going to keep score?” Hadia asked. She flowed into position, her wooden blade held out as she balanced on her feet.
Fatma did the same. “We stop when we’re tired of hitting each other.”
Hadia’s reply was a quick set of attacks, her taller body lunging forward. Fatma’s own sword darted up, and the strikes came as light batting to the middle of the blade—as if testing. Hadia changed angles, this time aiming low. Fatma met them again, stepping to the side as she knocked them away without allowing an opening. The two paused their attacks, continuing to circle.
“Where’d you learn to fight? Another cousin?”
“Father, actually,” Hadia answered, blade up and making small lazy loops. “He got beat up a lot as a kid. Turned soldier, learned how to fight, and came back to teach his bullies a lesson. He insisted his five daughters would never be intimidated. You?”
“My father’s a watchmaker. But when I was small he’d take me to Tahtib matches. Back then no one was going to train a girl to stick fight, though. Had to teach myself.”
“Hmm. Probably explains why you like to go it alone.”
Fatma frowned. She was getting psychoanalyzed now? She initiated the advance this time, with swinging strokes that rapped hard on her opponent’s blade. Hadia gave ground, but quickly rebounded, blocking Fatma’s attacks with sharp striking motions. This went on for a while, and when they disengaged again, both were breathing heavy.
“You give away your feint too easily,” Hadia huffed.
“What?”
“Your feints. You squint.” She imitated the action. “It’s an easy tell on when you’re not going to follow through on an attack. A bad habit. I used to bite my lip. Had to break it. But it’s hard, when you’re stubborn.”
Fatma’s jaw tensed. “You have something to say, agent?”
Hadia’s face went flat in return. “Permission to speak freely?”
“This look like the army to you? Say what you have to say.”
Words spilled out: “Do you know how embarrassing it was to learn you made up a rule to keep me away Sunday night? That I had to confront you about it in front of other agents?”
So that’s what this was about? “I told you, I was trying to protect you.”
“I don’t need protecting!” Hadia shot back. “I can—”
“—handle yourself,” Fatma finished. “I’ve seen. How was I supposed to know you were some kind of … ninja?”
“You could have asked! You could have let me be your partner, instead of replacing me with the first great big man you could find.” She made a frustrated sound, dropping her sword to her side. “I was the only woman at the academy. You, of all people, know what that’s like. Other than Onsi, most of my class barely interacted with me—as if just being courteous was somehow eib, or worse, haram. The unsolicited lectures from male teachers on the dangers of women in the workplace were my favorite—as if their own grandmothers weren’t probably selling goods out at market or helping with the farming. I expected when I got assigned, I’d have to deal with people who didn’t think I could measure up. Who thought I was in the wrong place. Who only saw some girl they’d stick behind a desk. But, wallahi, I didn’t think one of them would be you!”
Fatma flinched. That stung. Her own sword fell. “I’m not used to doing this with others.”
“You seem fine working with tall Nubian women with claws,” Hadia remarked.
“That’s different. Siti’s … she’s just different.”
“Not some sheltered hijabi, you mean? Concerned with etiquette and propriety? Who frets at missing salah? Who you think is too delicate to deal with the harder parts of this job? So what, you just put me up on a shelf?”
Fatma felt her cheeks heat.
Hadia made a face, like someone who knew the answer to the question they asked—but hoped to hear different. “I thought so.” She stood erect suddenly, shoulders forward. “But too bad for you. I trained to be an agent of the Ministry, knowing all the danger it might bring. I made it through the academy and graduated at the top of my class, because I’m incredible, because I earned the right to be here, because there is no end to God’s Barakah upon me. So you’re going to have to deal with the fact that I’m your partner. That you’re not doing this alone any more. That I’m here to watch your back. When you’re ready to get on board with that, you let me know!”
Fatma stood quiet, meeting Hadia’s large dark brown eyes. They practically quivered, and her beige cheeks were flushed. “That was bold. You practice that?”
The other woman swallowed. “Maybe. A few times. In a mirror.”
Fatma snorted, unable to hide the laugh. Hadia’s mask faltered, and she laughed as well.
“You’re right,” Fatma admitted. “I’m sorry. I hated it when agents did that to me when I first got here. So I went out of my way and took all kinds of risks to prove them wrong.”
“I’ve heard about them,” Hadia said. “They sound pretty brave.”
“No, lots of times they were just stupid. Nearly got myself killed. Wouldn’t have needed to do any of that if people just treated me as an equal. You shouldn’t have to relearn my mistakes.” Her tone turned serious. “But I’m going to need you to trust me. I’ve been doing this longer than you. Sometimes, I’m making the call that’ll get you home at night. Even if you think it’s the wrong one. You have a problem with my decisions, you take it up with me after. Don’t sneak behind my back just because you think you’re right.”
It was Hadia’s turn to flinch. She nodded,
