I loved Warcross when I read it two years ago, and was excited to dive into Wildcard, even though it had been sitting on my shelf for a year. Unfortunately, all of the best parts of Warcross were absent in Wildcard, and instead of an enjoyable sequel, I got a messy, hard to follow story that probably could’ve used another round of editing.

Let me preface my criticism by saying that there were two elements of the novel that I did truly enjoy: the return of the Phoenix Riders and the introduction of Jax. The former contributed not only to some important and impressive scenes, but to a much-needed lighthearted dynamic; the latter added a somewhat cliché but still intriguing subplot.

On an unrelated note, I have to give Lu props for writing such a gripping story. Despite my mixed feelings on the finished product, I didn’t want to stop reading. I had to force myself to stop between chapters, and last night, against my better judgement, I was up until 2 a.m. to finish the book. There are plenty of instances in which I desperately want to continue reading a book, but I stop because I’m tired or trying to be responsible. But, on occasion, there are instances in which I know time is passing and I should be sleeping, but I need to know what happens next. Wildcard is a great example of the second situation.

My biggest issue was with the story progression. Although most of the plot happened in just over a week, the entire thing felt rather slow-paced. And while there was a decent number of plot twists, after the first couple, it became more difficult to keep track of the details. By the time I reached the last hundred pages, the story had become so convoluted, I only understood a fraction of what was occurring and what was at stake.

The most disappointing part of this book, in my opinion, was the characters themselves. Emika and Hideo had so much personality in Warcross, but in Wildcard...they felt like shells of who they were before. She wasn’t the clever, daring hacker; he wasn’t the charming, if a bit stereotypical, rich boy. Instead, she was moping about what she’d lost while he lived in some bubble of rage-fueled determination. It was kind of sad to see how they deteriorated between book one and book two.

I remember loving their developing romance in the first book, but here, the most we get is Emika mourning what she temporarily had. That could’ve been good motivation for her actions later on, but all that came of it was passiveness. Things were complicated further when Emika and Hideo meet to discuss her findings and make plans, and a random burst of passion leads to what I can only assume is sex, or something close to it. For the rest of the book this is ignored, only for there to be a teasing line about their possibly rekindled relationship in an article snippet at the very end. All of this felt hot and cold, something included to satisfy readers that was forgotten about after the fact. I wish Lu had defined this better; even a little bit more focus could’ve made a huge difference.

Something else disappointing was the absence of Warcross itself. Even though the novel was set during the championships, leading up to the closing match and ceremony, we didn’t get any actual game scenes — unless you count a one-on-one with Emika and someone else in the Dark World, a virtual hub for criminals and gamblers. Two proper games took place over the course of the story, but one was ignored, a backdrop for Emika’s sleuthing, and the other turned into the final showdown before it could even begin. Warcross was fun, competitive, and incredibly creative, a focal point of the first novel that I absolutely loved. To see it pushed aside, well...it sucked. To see Lu instead focus so heavily on the ways technology can be misused and the morals surrounding that issue was like adding salt to the wound. Something so fun replaced by something so flat.

To be completely honest, Marie Lu doesn’t seem to be very skilled at writing conclusions. Admittedly, it’s been several years since I read the Legend trilogy, and about a year since I finished off The Young Elites. But in each of those situations as well as this one, the ending I was presented with wasn’t really satisfying. I’m completely okay with authors not doing what I expect; sometimes it ends up being better than anything I could’ve put together myself. With Wildcard, though, the ending felt kind of plain. There was hardly any emotion in it, and the things, the characters I cared most about got the least amount of page time.

So why didn’t I give the book a lower rating? Because, to put it simply, I had fun reading it. Sure, once I finished it and thought about what I’d read, I noticed a lot of flaws. But I enjoyed the feeling of racing through chapters to find out what comes next, and that’s what I got from Wildcard.

All in all, Wildcard was a mess and not at all the sequel or the conclusion I was hoping for. But there were a couple of redeemable elements, and I’m tentatively anticipating Lu’s upcoming novels.

Representation:
• Emika is Chinese-American.
• Hideo is Japanese.
• Asher is in a wheelchair.
• Roshan and Tremaine are queer.
• There are multiple side characters of color and one nonbinary side character that uses they/them.

CW: blood, violence, suicide, death/murder, child experimentation