Cecilia Holmes, Daughter of Minerva (Sherlock/Percy Jackson crossover)

Chapter 17

    I knew what it was before I saw it. The roar, the missing sheep, and the spike in the dead satyr’s leg gave it away. So I wasn’t as shocked as Sherlock when the manticore bounded into view on top of a nearby hill.
    I quickly recalled any information I had stored about the manticore to the forefront of my mind.
    Body of a lion. Head of a man. Tail of a scorpion. That much was already evident. It had a large body covered in muddy, gold fur. It had a mane, but it’s face was that of a man, except it still had sharp teeth like a lion. I shivered as I stared into it’s mouth. It roared again, and it flicked it’s long scorpion’s tale.
    “What is that thing?!” Sherlock yelled.
    “Well, it’s not a giant hound! Not this time, Mr. Holmes!” I shouted. “Look at it! Really look! It’s not what you think you see!”
    He shook his head, staring at the beast which was sniffing the air, staring at us.    We only had a few seconds.
    Poisonous projectiles laced in it’s tale, used to paralyze it’s prey before the kill. Manticore. Persian for man-eater. Weaknesses? But my mind froze as the beast came charging toward us.
    “Cecilia, what do we do?!” Sherlock exclaimed, stepping toward me.
    I only had a second to act.
    Turning on my heel, I dashed back to the fallen satyr. I grabbed the only weapon nearby that could do it any harm: the Celestial Bronze sword.
    Whirling back around, my eyes widened. Sherlock hadn’t moved, but stood stock still as the manticore approached, bearing it’s teeth. It stopped a few paces away, lifting it’s tail above it’s head.
    “Sherlock! Move, you idiot!” I screamed, sprinting toward him. Sherlock backed away, and then turned and ran toward me. But he was too late. The manticore flicked it’s tail and a dozen poisonous missiles flew in our direction. I was only a couple paces away from Sherlock.
    But I was too late.   
    He gasped, his eyes growing wide. Dropping the sword, I grabbed his outstretched arms. He collapsed onto his knees.
    “Cecilia,” he murmured, his voice full of pain. I looked down and saw one of the manticore’s spikes sticking out of his ankle.
    Poisonous projectiles.
    “It’ll be all right, dad,” I said.
    “Cecilia, what do I do?” he said, his words slurred but full of panic.
    “Nothing. There’s nothing you can do. It—it won’t kill you,” I said indifferently, sitting him down on the ground. “You are just going into a state of immobilization.”
    “For how… long?”
    “I don’t know.”
    He grimaced, and I looked away. The manticore stood, watching and waving it’s tail in the air, as if in victory. Fear and anger were taking over my senses. I forced myself to focus.
    “But I swear to you, dad,” I whispered, looking back at him as he laid down on the ground, his hand dropping limply beside him. “We’ll make it out of this alive. I swear on Olympus.”
    The manticore howled again, and I let go of my dad’s hand. Picking up my sword, I glared at the manticore.
    I had heard stories of how manticore’s could transmute into a human form. It must understand English. I walked forward, trying to look confident, when really my eyesight was blurred and my whole body shaking. The manticore held up it’s tail.
    “Do you know who I am?” I snapped, glaring at it. The manticore licked it’s lips.
    “Dinner,” it hissed. I planted my feet firmly into the ground in front of it, holding up the sword. I examined it quickly. Everything has a weak spot.
    “I am Cecilia, daughter of Minerva,” I exclaimed. “And I’m afraid you’re going to go hungry tonight, monster.”
    I charged it. It roared and fired his projectiles at me. But I anticipated the move and rolled onto the ground. I could feel one of the barbs almost graze my back. I was quickly up and running, a ferocious war cry flying from my lips. The manticore roared and leaned down. Then it pounced. I sidestepped, limboing down as it flew past me. It stretched out it’s claw toward me, but I lifted my sword and countered the sharp talon, my heart pounding with the thrill of battle. Blood pouring from it’s paw, it stepped back, baring it’s teeth again. Shivers flowed up and down my spine and fear took over my mind. But my instincts had already taken over my body. I swung my sword at the sinister face, and it roared, stepping back again. I continued to advanced. It lifted it’s claw again to strike me, but I seized the opportunity by stepping forward and plunging my sword up into it’s paw. It shrieked in pain and I ducked to the side. It’s tail swung in front of me and I barely avoided the sharp tip.
    And then everything connected. I grinned.
    “Your greatest source of strength,” I murmured, raising my sword. “Can also be your greatest source for weakness!”
    The scorpion tale swiveled, but it was too late. I brought my sword down with all the force I could muster. The manticore let out a wail as the end of it’s tale fell off, blood spewing everywhere.
    I raised my sword, ready to kill the beast. I swung my sword at it and it swiped it’s claw at me, lamely. And then it turned and limped away faster than I could run. I raised my sword and yelled at the top of my lungs.
    “Ha! Victory is mine!” I yelled after it, just as the sky broke loose. It began to pour. I stood in the rain for awhile, letting the blood wash off my hands and sword. I pulled the long, black overcoat tighter around me, breathing deep. And then I remembered.
    “Sherlock!” I cried, turning. He laid on the ground several paces away. I ran to him.
    When I reached him, I dropped down on my knees. His eyes were closed, but he was still breathing.
    He’s just paralyzed. I reminded myself over and over. But, how long will it last? Should I go get help?
    “No,” I whispered, looking over my shoulder, and then down at the sword beside me. “I can’t risk leaving him here with that man-eater still wandering around.”
    I looked back at Sherlock. And then I took off the coat he had lent to me and spread it over him like a blanket. Mentally cursing Zeus, I folded my arms over my chest to retain what warmth I had.
    “Don’t worry, dad,” I whispered, not sure if he could hear me or not. “I’m not going anywhere.”

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In honor of Memorial Day and those who have risked their lives for the protection and freedom of others. May your future battles be as victorious as Cecilia's.