Covet (Clann)

late,” Dad said, standing at my other side. “There is nothing else we can do.”
    “No.” I shook my head, staring at Mr. Coleman, willing him to help me. “Use your powers—”
    “We did,” Mr. Coleman said.
    “Then try something different!” I turned to Dr. Faulkner. Why was I the only one here still fighting for Nanna’s life? He fixed people for a living and he was a descendant. He had to be able to heal her. “You’re a surgeon. Can’t you go in and magically repair her heart?”
    He shook his head. “I tried that. But I wasn’t fast enough. There was years’ worth of damage to the tissue. She must have had heart troubles for a long time now. Didn’t she say anything to you?”
    I stared down at Nanna’s face, at her chest that refused to rise or fall. She had kept so many secrets. She hadn’t even told me about my family’s past until I was fifteen.
    But why keep this secret? If she’d only told us, we could have done something to help her get better, made her lay off the fatty fried foods or helped her work out or something. Didn’t they have surgeries and transplants for this kind of thing?
    I tried again, asking both Mr. Coleman and Dr. Faulkner at the same time. “But you can still fix it. You can do a spell or—”
    Mr. Faulkner shook his head again. “We can only do so much. We can’t bring the dead back to life. At least, not with a soul—”
    “Then bring her back without one!” I said, my hands aching to slap him. He was just refusing to help because we were outcasts, because I was a half-breed. “She’s my grandma! You killed her. Do whatever you have to do, but bring her back!”
    “No.” Mr. Coleman’s tone was final. “We don’t do that. It’s against Clann law to create zombies. And that’s all she would be, a zombie, no personality, no true life within her. Just an animated corpse. Is that what you want, what your grandmother would want?”
    I almost said yes, but the words choked in my throat. Nanna would be horrified and furious if she could hear us now. She couldn’t stand to watch zombie movies and refused to read books about them. Even if I could convince the Clann to bring her body back to life, it was useless if it wouldn’t really be her again.
    “Please, there has to be something….” I whispered, staring down at the tiny wrinkles in Nanna’s thin eyelids. I stroked her soft cheeks, then stopped as I realized she was already turning cold and losing her color.
    No. This couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t be gone.
    “I’m sorry. But there’s nothing more we can do,” Mr. Coleman murmured. “I swear, if we could bring her back for you, or undo what’s been done here today, I would make that happen. But even descendants have limits.”
    So that was it then. Like me, even with all their supposed power, the Clann could only take Nanna’s life, not bring it back. Nanna was really gone. I’d gotten here too late to save her after all.
    And now I had to say goodbye.
    “Nanna,” I whispered, the ocean of ache in my chest spreading over my body to make my limbs so heavy I could hardly move. The ache bubbled upward, rising to fill my throat and burn my eyes and the inside of my nose, until I felt sure it would push right through my skull. If I had been standing, it would have knocked me over like a tidal wave. But I was already on my knees, and all it could do was bend me in half over my grandmother’s body and leave me gasping for air.
    I wrapped my arms around Nanna, lifting her to me in a one-sided hug, remembering all the times she used to hold me in her lap and rock the both of us in her rocking chair when I was little. And how she used to kneel just like this on her knees day after day, despite her joints getting creaky and popping with age, so she could talk to the herbs and fruit plants she so carefully tended in our backyard. It was the last time I would ever hold my grandma, the woman who had helped raise me, who at times had been there for me even more than my own mother.
    She was gone. Because of me .
    “I’m so sorry, Nanna.” I couldn’t say it enough. A lifetime of apologies wouldn’t make up for what I’d done.
    “Savannah,” Mr. Coleman said. “Please accept my deepest apologies for your loss, and also pass on my condolences to Jo—to your mother. None of us intended for this to happen. I just wanted my son back safely, and we thought your grandma knew where… I never dreamed…”
    Words apparently failed the