Tel peeled back the strip of rind he'd loosened from the kharba fruit, licked the juice from the yellow wound, and followed Rara. "Son of an electric eel," she said when Tel reached her, her birthmark scarlet. "Just trying to make a living, that's all." "Want a bite?" Rara shook her head. "I'm too angry," she said. They walked back to the inn. "Do you know where Alter is?" Tel asked. "I was looking for her." "She's not in the inn?" "I couldn't find her there." "Did you look on the roof?" Rara asked. "Oh," said Tel. "No." They turned into the tavern and Tel went upstairs. It was not until he was halfway up the ladder on the second floor that went to the trap door in the ceiling that he wondered why she was on the roof. He pushed the trap door back and hoisted himself to the dusty, weathered rim. Alter was hanging head and white hair down from a pipe that went from the stone chimney to a supporting pipe that was fastened by a firm collar to the roof. "What are you doing?" Tel asked. "Hi," she smiled down at him. "I'm practicing." "Practicing what?" She was hanging double from her waist over the pipe. Now she grabbed the bar close to her waist and somersaulted forward, letting her feet slowly and evenly to the ground, her legs perfectly straight. "My stunts," she said. "I'm an acrobat." She did not let go of the bar, but suddenly swung her legs up so that her ankles nearly touched her hands, and then whipped them down again, ending the kip by supporting herself upright on the metal perch. Then she flung her legs back (Tel jumped because she looked like she was going to fall) and went out and down, then under, swung up, arced over, and went down again in a giant circle. She circled once more, then doubled up, caught one knee over the bar, reversed direction, and suddenly was sitting on top of the rod with one leg over. "Gee," Tel said. "How did you do that?" "It's all timing," Alter said. Suddenly she threw her head back, and circled the bar once more, hanging from her hands and one knee. Then the knee came loose, and her feet came slowly to the ground. "You've just got to be strong enough to hold up your own weight. Maybe a little stronger. But the rest is all timing." "You mean I could do that?" "You want to try something?" "Like what?" "Come here and grab hold of the bar." Tel came over and grabbed. He could just keep his feet flat on the tar-papered roof and still hold on. "All right," he said. "Now pull yourself up and hook your left knee around the bar." "Like this?" He kicked up once, missed, and tried again. "When you kick, throw your head back," she instructed. "You'll balance better." He did, pulled up, and got his foot through his arms, and suddenly felt the bar slide into the crook of his knee. He was hanging by his left knee and hands. "Now what do I do?" he asked, swaying back and forth.