Spike took full advantage of his momentary reprieve, taking refuge in a cramped alcove provided by a faded silver throne inlaid with mother-of-pearl and lined with red velvet. The metal was faded and the velvet had long since lost its allure, but it came with an attendant canopy as it was apparently built into a kind of palanquin that had not been lifted by anypony in probably over a thousand years. He stopped to catch his breath. Meranax eventually re-emerged from where she had been busy tending to her treasures and began stalking the cavern, the rumble of her chest reverberating as she stalked. Spike held his breath and remained very still where he crouched behind the throne as she stepped over where he was hidden. Once her shadow had passed over the mounds of treasure across from him, their multifaceted brilliance reflecting the crystal light in odd ways and distorting her shade, he dared to look out. He noticed, upon gazing up and around the canopy, that Meranax’s eyes were darting from one of the gigantic mirrored shards perched high in the larger treasure mounds around the room to another, clearly looking for him. Eventually, he realised, she was going to find him. He had to find the others.