Thoughts:
I enjoyed this, but I was disappointed. Battlecry’s greatest strength was its pacing. The sometimes-murky (though interesting) worldbuilding was overcome by a seamless and high-speed plot, and in retrospect I think I forgave the more cliched bits because they fit my expectations for superhero fiction. Unfortunately, Sentinel leads with its predecessor’s flaws.
Picking up shortly after the last book, the story takes Jillian and the rest of St. Catherine’s superheroes back to Chattahoochee Camp to face the consequences for their actions. As the reader might expect, this doesn’t go smoothly, and Benjamin goes missing. The resulting investigation takes the rest of the team north into Wyoming, while Jillian wrestles with both her worldview and her mental health.
I’m going to take a step back for a moment and lead with the good because I try not to frontload with criticism.
Dodge spends a fair bit of time examining the aftermath of Battlecry. Just because Jillian and the others have accepted that their leader didn’t have the right to abuse them doesn’t mean they’re ready to accept that their upbringing was warped. Jillian in particular suffers through the cognitive dissonance of her adjusting paradigm in this book, but Reid and Marco are also forced to confront some internalized prejudice.
There’s also the issue of Ben and Jill’s relationship. They really haven’t known each other that long, and they both have Issues™ that they need to sort out in their respective stubborn heads to make it work. It’s not happily-ever-after right away. (And the love triangle threatened in the summary is not so bad.)
Kind of a good and bad thing: Both the ad hoc cult deprogramming and Jillian’s pre-existing mental health issues are also paid a fair bit of attention, and I actually wish that Dodge had spent more time on that and less on the action and gore, because the latter tended to distract from the former. Particularly with regard to pacing, the timeframe for this book just isn’t long enough to squeeze in everything that needed to happen, so there are some odd skips.
Now for the downsides.
If you were frustrated by the worldbuilding in the last installment, don’t expect much improvement. I’ve been trying to figure out how to define what went wrong for me, and the most I can say is that it feels half-done. There is a lot going on in this book, and it’s all important, but the diffuse plot determines which setting details are disclosed, rather than plot and setting working as an integrated whole.
It’s a functionalist problem that permeates the book. In order for the plot to move from point A to point B, certain actions must be performed by character X… which is frankly what they tell you to do in writing class, but the problem is that it’s so transparent. If the only surprises I have while reading a book are a couple of particularly forced interactions and/or choices then we might have a problem. Unfortunately, I’m not a professional line editor, so I’m not sure what to say beyond “it’s not subtle.”
While I liked the themes of deprogramming and reintegration, Reid, Jillian, and Marco all take an abrupt detour toward villainy in this book, leaving Benjamin and Ember as the ‘good guys.’ (Ember is stripped of her power for most of the book and reduced to a Jiminy Cricket figure of moral reason until the plot dictates that her powers need to be active again.)
I really do not think that the consequences of this shift were properly addressed. You know the TV cartoons where the hero takes a sudden turn toward the Dark Side™ and pulls back at the last minute (making everything somehow ok)? Jillian doesn’t pull back.
There’s an odd juxtaposition between Dodge’s refusal to allow her characters to swear and the amount of torture, gore, and murder that makes it onto the page. (To say nothing of Jill and Ember’s respective recovery from sexual assault.) For the amount of mature content under discussion, the writing doesn’t quite rise to meet it. And there is a lot of death in these pages. Frankly, after a while it became boring. “Life is cheap,” and the ‘bigger’ deaths rang flat against the bloody backdrop.
I suppose what I liked most about Sentinel was the *idea* of Sentinel. I liked what Dodge was trying to do, and I liked it when it worked. Unfortunately, I spent a large part of the book feeling like I was reading a middle draft, unable to be absorbed in the story. It’s a good concept, and one that Dodge clearly cares about, but ultimately a significantly weaker book than Battlecry.
The last chapter (possibly an epilogue? It wasn’t marked as such…) was from Benjamin’s perspective, which was a neat shift, and something I’m looking forward to seeing more of in Mercury, which I still plan to read. I do like this world, and I want to see how it ends.