The Enchantress was delighted.
“I must go, nevertheless,” she said. “For a long time past I have spent the first night of every week in a visit to the Bat-King, who rules over an enchanted forest some leagues from here. If I were to disappoint him, he would never forgive me. I have to go after dark and return before sunrise, as he can only see at night, and spends his days sleeping among the trees.”
The King made as though he were jealous.
“And who is this Bat-King that he should rob me of you?” he cried in an angry voice.
“Well, well,” said the Enchantress, laughing, “there is only one thing for it—you must come too. For I cannot vex the Bat-King by my absence, and you can delight yourself with my company while we go and come.”
Then, as though she guessed his thoughts, she continued: “If I did not know you loved me, I would tell you that you need not hope to escape from me in the forest. The Bat-King has millions of subjects, and he has only to sign to them to put you to death should you attempt it.”
They went out, and on the ramparts her chariot waited her. The King could not tell what it was made of, but it looked like one of those clouds that cross the setting sun before a stormy night; six enormous owls were harnessed to it and stood ready for a flight, their yellow eyes fixed on space. A servant handed a long scourge of plaited twigs to the Enchantress. When she and the King had seated themselves, the car rose into the air, and they were soon rushing across the sky.
Away they went, leaving the earth far under them; they flew over towns twinkling with lights and rivers which lay in the darkness like shining snakes. Sometimes a heavy bird of prey would pass on its way beneath them, and sometimes the cry of a nightjar would come up from below. At last they came upon a dark mass covering many miles, which the Enchantress told him was the forest of the Bat-King. A curious twilight shone through the branches, caused by the presence of many glow-worms. The owls lit upon an open patch among the trees, and she got out of the car, telling the King to remain beside her as he valued his life. The owls crouched near, ruffling as they settled.
In a short time they saw a dark-winged figure coming towards them, whose crown of pale flame threw furtive shadows on the tree-trunks. The Enchantress went to meet him, and for some time the two friends walked up and down at a little distance from the King. He looked above and around for some chance of escape. Once he thought of springing into the owl chariot, but the Enchantress had taken her whip of plaited twigs with her, and he feared that without it the owls might refuse to fly. He felt under his doublet for a dagger which he had managed to lay hands on after his sword had been taken, and which he had kept carefully hidden ever since. Then a sound made him glance upwards, and he saw that the boughs of the trees were a mass of gigantic figures, winged and carrying long nets; they jibbered and laughed, making as though they would throw them over him. It was plain that there was no hope of escape, and that his only chance would be on the homeward way, when he might stab the Enchantress, and with her plaited switch force the owls downwards to earth. But he shuddered at the thought of killing a woman, even though she were a fiend. He turned over these things in his mind till he heard her calling.
“Come!” she was saying. “It may please you to see some of your own kind. His Majesty has got two prisoners he is keeping in the forest, and I am going to look at them. You need not think we shall leave you. I hear that the woman is beautiful, so you can tell me if you think her as beautiful as I am.”