"Misconceived Notions" AND "Befuddled Inclinations"
an excerpt

Misconceived Notions--52,087/50,000

“Well, bottoms up,” Emage said, toasting his captives, crossing his fingers, and downing the beverage. He gasped at the bitter taste that made his taste buds feel like they wanted to crawl out of his mouth, or make his tongue rot. “Good grief that stuff gets more horrible each and every time I taste it.”
Kristoff and Liam regarded each other before Liam finally nodded. “It should be taking effect about now.” A couple minutes had passed, with Emage trying desperately to get the taste out of his mouth by a combination of spitting and swallowing.
Kristoff grinned and rapped on the bars to get Emage’s attention.
“Now, tell me, who are you and what are you doing here?”
“Do you want the truth?” Emage could not help but say.
“Yes, the truth, now!”
Emage felt the tug that was the truth serum trying to obey, but he resisted it long enough to get his thoughts in order.
“Like I said, I am Emage Devlin, twin to Imaje Devlin, who was born first and I second. I am here because Soren deceived your men and told them I was Imaje.” Emage practically spat.
Liam and Kristoff traded looks.
“And who are you pursuing now?” Kristoff continued.
“Master Chiron.”
“For what purpose?”
“For the purpose of getting him to locate my brother so I can kill him!” Emage snarled.
“Can’t you be civil?” Liam asked, forgetting for a moment about the truth serum.
“No, not until I’m out of this dip-shit jail I’m in.”
There was a brief moment of silence as both Kristoff and Chiron took a moment to mull over what Emage had just said.
“Oh, and if you didn’t know by now, I am slightly allergic to truth serum.” So saying, Emage fainted.
“Crap,” Kristoff and Liam spoke at the same time.
“Well, at least we know it’s Emage now.” Kristoff continued.
Liam nodded.
“Yeah, he’s not going to be one happy mage when he wakes up.”
Kristoff snorted. “You think? How many times now has he been mistaken for his brother?”
Liam shrugged. “According to our policies, he’s been in here, what, four, five times?”
Kristoff chuckled. “That poor man keeps getting the truth serum, and each time it knocks him flat. If anyone develops a tolerance to it, it should be him.”

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