"Sure," she said. "That's how you mount the bar. It's called a knee mount."
"I guess it's easier than climbing. Now what do I do?"
"Try this. Straighten out your arms. And make sure they stay straight. Now straighten your back leg behind you." As he tried, he felt her hand on his knee, helping. "Hey ..." he said. "I'm not balanced."
"Don't worry," she said. "I'm holding you. Keep those arms straight. If you don't obey instructions you'll have a head full of tar paper. Seven feet isn't very high, but head first it's sort of uncomfortable."
Tel's elbows locked.
"Now when I count three, kick the leg I'm holding under you and throw your head back as hard as you can. One ..."
"What's supposed to happen?" Tel demanded.
"Follow instructions," replied Alter. "Two ... three!"
Tel threw and kicked, and felt Alter give his leg an extra push. He had planned to close his eyes, but what he saw kept them open. Sky and then roof were coming at him, fast. Then they veered away, along with Alter's face (which was upside down), till an instant later the pale blue towers of Toron, all pointing in the wrong direction, pierced his sight. Righting themselves, they jerked out of his line of vision and he was looking straight up at the sky (there was a star out, he noted before it became a meteor and flashed away) until it was replaced by the roof and Alter's face (laughing now) and then once more everything swept into its proper position for a moment.
He clamped his stinging hands tightly on the bar, and when he felt himself stop, he hunched forward and closed his eyes. "Mmmmmmmmmm," he said. Alter's hand was on his wrist, very firm, and he was sitting on top of the bar again.