Excerpt
Everybody went to bed frustrated that night, and Snow had another horrible nightmare.
Again, it started out well enough. A pair of elven ladies were stroking her all over with their delicate, talented fingers. Snow laughed and kissed then alternately, their long tongues almost serpentine in her mouth. One of them raised a heavy comb toward Snow's tresses and she arched her neck back, sighing happily, but in the instant before the comb passed from her view she saw a glistening, viscous substance dripping from its teeth. The elf ladies laughter turned brittle, cruel. With a shimmer they merged into a single figure: the Old Queen. As he sneered down at her she knew the stuff on the comb, and sinking now into her scalp, was vilest poison.
When she awoke, the moon must have already set, for the darkness was utter, beyond anything she'd experienced. She lay rigid in the black, chilled by her sweat. But as her breathing eased, she heard soft snores from the dwarves' bedchamber, and these soothed her. She gathered her courage and crawled, guided by the sound, into their room and up onto their huge, round bed.
There, nestled in amongst the dwarves, she slept well until morning.
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