The scratching, wrenching noises came to an abrupt halt.  Everything was still.  The afternoon California sunshine played through the branches and bushes surrounding the car.

“This is very strange,” said the protector.  “These bushes shouldn’t be here.”  He pushed several buttons on the little remote control in his hand, then shook his head.  “The readings I’m getting make no sense.  They say the door didn’t move at all.  But where did all these bushes come from?”

Setting the remote aside, the protector tried to open his door.  It was jammed shut by a huge bush.  The protector heaved and shoved on the door, but it hardly moved.  Finally, the protector rolled down the window, letting a shower of leaves and small branches into the car.  With a good deal of grunting, he climbed out of the window and wriggled through the branches outside. 

George suddenly realized that the protector looked like an American again.  He looked down at his hands, then at his face in the rear view mirror.  He was back to normal.  They must have been transformed back to themselves when they came through the transporter.

“Why don’t you come on out the window like I did,” called the protector’s voice from outside.  “It’ll probably be awhile before we can go—I’ve got to clear away the bushes and fix the transformer screen.  It’s all ripped up by the bushes.”

George and Emberly scrambled out of the passenger seat window and through the surrounding branches, trying not to be scratched too badly in the process.  There were branches and brambles everywhere.  They found the protector looking sadly at the tattered gauzy material that circled the transporter doorway.

“I can’t imagine how this could have happened,” he said.  “It’s like these bushes sprung up out of nowhere while we were in China.  The transporter door was cloaked and invisible then.  Look at how badly its ripped up!”  The protector shook his head glumly.

George looked around at the surrounding bushes.  “This whole place looks different.  There’s bushes everywhere.  The fallen star should be right over there in the open, but I can’t see it.  Are you sure we came back to the right place?”

“We must have,” replied the protector.  “The coordinates on the controller are exactly the same.  But I suppose it could have malfunctioned.  Why don’t you go over to the fallen star and see if it’s still there.  Meanwhile, I’ll try and get this mess sorted out.”

“O.k.” said George.  He and Emberly set off in the direction of the fallen star, or at least where he thought it used to be.  Emberly started playing with her new ring again, saying “George Brown!” over and over, until George finally took off his ring and put it in his pocket.

Bushes were everywhere.  While the ground seemed somehow familiar, George marveled at how different everything looked.  Before they went to China an hour or so before, this had been an open, empty field.  Now it was overgrown with bushes and weeds.

George and Emberly struggled through the thick undergrowth, clearing a path through the branches. 

A sudden shadow seemed to come across the sun.  In the same instant George and Emberly emerged from the tangle of bushes into what seemed to be a small clearing.  In the middle of the clearing was the fallen star with its hook-like arm pointing towards the north.  Surrounding it were several of the most hideous creatures George had ever seen.

Each had a dog-like face and was covered with a rank, thick coat of fur.  Their eyes blazed red with malevolence.  Each crouched on its grotesque haunches with its dank tail dragging behind it.

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George and Emberly stood transfixed at the edge of the clearing, their mouths open in shock.  One of the creatures rose up and started to approach them.

“Welcome,” it said in a slithering, harsh voice.  It’s face twisted into a sickening smile.  “How nice of you to come visit us.”

As if out of nowhere, a huge whip appeared in the creature’s mangled paw.  Quick as lightning it lashed out at George and Emberly.  With a scream trapped in his throat, George turned to run.  He was too late.  The whip twisted around his arms and legs as if it were a snake.  Everywhere it touched him, it felt icy cold.  It wrapped around him and bound him so tightly that he couldn’t move.

George struggled and kicked but couldn’t work his way free of the whip.  He tried to cry out, but nothing came out of his parched throat.  He felt a sudden sting on his back and a line of icy coldness twisting around him, and realized that another of the creatures had imprisoned him with its whip as well.  George staggered, trying to run, but couldn’t seem to move.  The creatures yanked on their whips, pulling George closer.  He stumbled and fell.  Hearing a thud next to him he turned to see Emberly struggling to free herself from the whips of two of the other creatures.

George felt hot breath on his neck.  Looking up he was horrified to see the hideous face of one of the creatures a foot in front of him.  The stench of its putrid breath nearly made him faint.  A dribble of slobber dropped from the creature’s mouth onto George’s shirt.

George felt icy cold.  He couldn’t move and blackness seemed to be gathering around him.  Everything started to turn grey.

And then, like a tiny shaft of light piercing through an empty darkness, George heard a faint thread of simple music.  It seemed to come from far away, like an almost forgotten dream coming back to memory.  The creature towering over him seemed to hesitate, not certain what to do.

The music grew louder.  It was a simple melody, beautifully sung.  George could not understand the words, but sensed that they spoke of purity and goodness.  Struggling, he managed to turn around enough to see where the sound was coming from—and was amazed to see that it was from Emberly!  She was singing softly, her eyes closed, still imprisoned by the whips.  A creature hovering over her had a look on its face of pain.

The singing stopped for an instant, and the spell seemed broken.  Emberly cried, “Sing, George!”  Then she was singing again and the magic returned.  She was louder this time, and as she sang her strength seemed to grow.

‘Sing?’ thought George. That made no sense.  How could a simple song overcome these powerful creatures? 

But then again, a lot of things lately didn’t make sense.  Like how a little, clear rock could answer math questions, or help find things.  Or how a funny little creature from another world could live sideways through time and foretell the future.

Remembering his Uth rock, George struggled, groping with his hands, trying to reach the rock in its pouch in his pocket.  He couldn’t do it.  His hands were bound too tightly.

Emberly was looking intently at George, as if willing him to join her in singing.  George opened his mouth to sing, but no sound came out.  The whip was tightening around George so he could hardly breathe.  The creature leaning over him was bending closer, and George knew he had to act fast.