Author's Notes: OMG THAT'S NEVER AN UPDATE!

OMG IT SO IS!

Disclaimer: The Road to El Dorado and related awesomeness is © DreamWorks Pictures. I don't own any of the mythological personae featured here either (does anyone?) The names of the gods and the horse-thing are sort of mine, but based off existing Aztec words and names.

Envoys of the Gods

Chapter Two

Miguel and Tulio's oddly fluctuating fortunes continued for several days, almost as if their fate was the subject of a dispute up there in the heavens. Sometimes the weather was wonderfully calm, the sun beating down from a clear blue sky, and Miguel and Tulio sweated and strained with the oars as Al Tivo sat haughtily in the back of the boat. At other times the sky turned black with clouds which poured down freezing rain as the waves towered around them, and Miguel and Tulio scrambled for the oars just to prevent them from falling overboard.

After what Tulio determined was five days – though in Miguel's opinion it was more like five months – of travelling, the sparse food supplies that they had begun with were finally gone, and Miguel and Tulio felt weak with hunger. Tulio's idea of sticking an oar handle into the water as a makeshift fishing rod hadn't yielded any fish. It seemed like the only way they were going to get any food was if it fell down from the sky into their laps.

The dying shrieks of a seagull as it flew down to perch on one of their oars didn't immediately register to the weary travellers. It landed, coughed up bile and then slumped over, dead. Slowly, it began to dawn on Miguel and Tulio – and even Al Tivo, who was normally a strict vegetarian – that here was a meal, practically ready made! They licked their lips as Tulio stretched out a hand towards the seagull–

–at that instant a great white shark reared up out of the depths of the ocean, bit off the seagull, oar handle and all, and then sank back into the water.

"TULO!" shouted Mixél in exasperation for what seemed like the fiftieth time. "That was UNCALLED FOR! What are you doing – do you want them to die?"

Tulo shrugged, unrepentant. Using the mortals that Mixél was so fond of in order to get at him was childish, he knew. But hadn't it had the desired effect?

"It's your turn to watch El Dorado," he pointed out, feeling the slight echo of déjà vu – or more accurately, déjà dit – as he uttered the same words that had started off this whole mess.

Mixél glared at him with narrowed eyes and didn't budge. "I don't trust you. You'll sink the boat or something while I'm not watching."

Tulo held up his hands in a gesture of honesty. "Upon my word, I won't. I'm not trying to kill them. I just thought they should … try and get their own food. We can't go giving them handouts all the time."

Mixél still looked slightly suspicious, but nodded. "All right then, budge over." The two gods swapped places on the clouds and Mixél peered down through the window into El Dorado.

"What's Chel up to? She looks like she's planning to run away."

Tulo rolled his eyes. "I think she is, though how she thinks she'll make it past the gate when no civilian ever has before is beyond me."

"No civilian has made it past the gate before because you haven't let them," said Mixél.

"Exactly, and I'm not going to let Chel do it either. Think of what a risk she'd be, running around outside the city! She might disclose its location, and then where would we be?"

Mixél's brow creased in frustration. "Her father beats her, Tulo!"

"He uses corporal punishment to discipline her," corrected Tulo, "and rightly too. She's a little sneak-thief. You weren't watching when she stole those jade earrings from a stall in the marketplace."

"And he's marrying her off to that ugly Zakiri guy!"

"He's a friend of the family! They're of an age, he's sensible and reliable. It's a good match."

Mixél pouted in defeat and slumped against the bank of cloud. "It's supposed to be a paradise, not a prison," he muttered under his breath

Tulo heard him, but ignored him, and ignored the uneasy twinge of his conscience that came from knowing Mixél was right.

The pair alternated shifts of watching El Dorado, switching over each time the sun moved a quarter of the way through the sky. Tzekel-Kan made sacrifices to the gods and prayed and pored over his books of magic. Chel succeeded in sneaking into the Temple of the Gods – far too easily, in Tulo's opinion; those guards were growing lax. But she didn't steal anything, only examined the elaborately carved pillars and golden statues with keen interest. The head of one of the statues had come loose, and Chel took it from its alcove and turned it over in her hands speculatively before replacing it and making a mental note of its location, as if this had been a practice run for later. Tulo didn't like what she was obviously planning to do. Even Mixél wasn't keen on the idea of her defacing their temple. "Though it's not as if we're ever going to inhabit it."

"It's the principle of it. It's sacrilegious!"

Mixél was more concerned with the fate of Miguel and Tulio, whose predicament was growing increasingly hopeless. They still hadn't managed to obtain any food, and they had no idea at all where they were going, their boat drifting aimlessly in the middle of the ocean.

Tulio summoned up all his strength, sat up and grabbed one of the oars. "Come on, we need to row this thing," he said.

Miguel nodded and took hold of the other oar. "On the count of three."

"One –"

"Two –"

"Three! HEAVE!"

Miguel heaved on his oar; Tulio heaved on his, and the uncoordinated, alternating oar strokes turned the boat in endless circles. Al Tivo couldn't even be bothered to let them know.

"It is pretty pathetic," admitted Tulo as the gods looked down on the labouring mortals.

"It'd be such a shame for their journey to just end here," said Mixél. "They're not actually that far from El Dorado."

"Yes, but what exactly did you plan for them to do once they got to the city? Even if they managed to impersonate us – and I don't think Chief Tani would be fooled – how could they get rid of Tzekel Kan? He still has powers and knowledge, the likes of which they could never imagine."

"But so do we!" Mixél reminded him. "Our powers are greater than Tzekel Kan's by far. Miguel and Tulio might not be us, but if we act through them, what difference does it make?"

Tulo couldn't think of much to counter that one. He still had reservations about interfering too much in the mortal world, but he couldn't very well use that argument what with all the storms he'd conjured up, and the shark trick earlier.

"We still need to be subtle," he replied finally.

Mixél smiled, victorious. "How about we start by giving their boat a subtle nudge in the right direction? It won't take much; the currents will do the rest.

Tulo sighed and moved his hand; below them, Miguel and Tulio's boat moved as well.

A little while later, Mixél was taking his turn with El Dorado and Tulo was keeping an eye on their mortal counterparts when both heard a voice calling from somewhere below them. The gods looked at each other, startled, and simultaneously glanced into their respective windows, but the sound wasn't coming from Earth.

"It's coming from downstairs," Tulo realised, scrambling to his feet. "I'll get it. You carry on keeping watch."

He picked his way over the clouds, avoiding Mixél's discarded mandolin, and descended the stairs that led down to the lower level of their cloudy abode. There, a little way off, was a young god waiting with a scroll in his hand. The other hand held a distinctive staff, topped with a pair of wings, two snakes entwined around it. As Tulo took in the god's winged helmet, winged sandals and messenger's satchel, he realised that this was the famous messenger of the gods; what was his name… Herpes? No, Hermes. Or Mercury, that was right, depending on where you came from.

"Finally," said Hermes impatiently. "I didn't expect to have to stand around waiting for longer than it took me to get here. Though I am the fastest god there is, so I suppose that's to be expected."

"Er, sorry about that," said Tulo, though he disliked having to apologise to such a rude young god. He didn't look like he had ever had to create and maintain a hidden paradise. "You have a message for us."

"Yes. In fact, a summons from the Almighty Himself," replied Hermes, unfurling the scroll. "He requests your immediate presence."

Tulo felt as if his stomach had dropped down to his feet. "The Almighty," he repeated. "The Almighty?"

"The God of all gods?" asked Mixél from just behind him, making Tulo jump.

"Yes, yes; King of Kings, Lord of Lords, all that jazz," said Hermes. "He wants to see you two."

"What about?" asked Mixél nervously. Hermes shrugged.

"Message doesn't say, and I didn't ask. If you want someone in the know, ask one of His precious angels. They don't get sent on errands. Too busy appearing in dreams and singing hymns and being oh-so shiny and wonderful…" Hermes continued to grumble as he rolled the scroll back up, put it in the satchel and took off in a blur of fluttering wings.

Mixél and Tulo stared after him in silence for a few seconds before Tulo said, "You were supposed to keep watching El Dorado."

Mixél waved a hand in dismissal. "It can look after itself for two minutes. I wanted to see who the visitor was. It's been a few centuries since anyone came to see us."

Tulo managed a slight, grim smile. "Well, I'd rather if this one hadn't come to see us, to be honest."

"You don't suppose… it might not be about the… interferences?" Mixél suggested tentatively.

Tulo turned a bleak gaze on him. "What else could it be about?" And of course, there was nothing else. The two gods stood there, trying to imagine what kind of punishment could be in store for them – something so horrible that the Almighty Himself had to deal it out. Tulo couldn't help but think about what had happened to Loki.

Neither of them had ever even seen the Almighty. Hadn't quite believed that He existed, though with all the different gods of all the different nations and religions, Mixél supposed that there had to be someone overseeing it all. But two lowly gods in charge of a single city could never have expected to meet Him. What would He even look like?

"I suppose we ought to get going," Mixél said eventually. "Or else we might miss our appointment. Given that the summons was for 'right now', we might have already missed it." He forced a weak chuckle.

Tulo roused himself from a stupor of despair. "We can't both go," he said. "Someone has to watch El Dorado."

"The summons was for both of us," Mixél pointed out. "Do you want to want to risk angering Him even more?" Tulo shuddered and shook his head.

Moments later, they had mounted their steed Coatlitialin (Alin for short) and set off along the winding golden road that led to the rest of Heaven.

"How will we know when we get there?" asked Mixél from his seat behind Tulo.

"It's got huge pearly gates, right? Shouldn't be that hard to spot."

As it turned out, there were even signposts, of a sort: little posts of pearl with a wing pointing in the right direction. The gods took a chance and followed them, and their guess was proven correct as they began to see angels flying past in all directions, bent on some heavenly mission. "If we head towards where they all seem to be coming from, we should find it," said Tulo.

They navigated their way through the traffic as the road began to rise steeply in a series of hills. Tulo and Mixél craned their necks back and saw, at the top of the highest hill, a gigantic pair of gates outlined across the sky. It was intimidating.

As they got closer they could see a figure leaning against the gates, like a guard who never moved, holding an enormous key. That had to be St. Peter.

Alin glided up to the gates and Tulo dismounted to speak to St. Peter, feeling slightly dizzy after going up and down all those hills. Seeing him approach, St. Peter unleaned himself from the gates and came to meet him, smiling in a polite but curious manner.

"Hello," he said. "You two don't look like departed souls. Can I help you with something?"

"We're not," said Tulo. "We're gods."

"We've come to see the Almighty," called Mixél helpfully.

St. Peter's brow furrowed. "Oh… I see. Well, if you have a complaint, please direct it to one of His seraphs, and we will get back to you in due course."

It was Tulo's turn to frown. "No… no complaint. He… He summoned us personally."

St. Peter looked perplexed. "Oh… He did? Really? Well, I suppose I'd better let you in then…" He walked reluctantly over to the gates and began to undo the large padlock which joined them, and unwind the chain which bound them together.

"Yes, I suppose you'd better," muttered Tulo as he walked back to where Mixél and Alin waited and climbed back up in front of Mixél.

"Do they often get gods complaining to the Almighty?" whispered Mixél, puzzled.

"Maybe… That Hermes guy sounded like he had a few complaints to make," Tulo replied.

With the chain removed, the gates swung open without a sound and Tulo spurred Alin through them. Mixél looked back over his shoulder to see St. Peter, who was watching them go with an expression of distaste.

"What's his problem?" he asked. "Why doesn't he like us?"

"Probably because we're the 'pagan gods' they're trying to get people to stop believing in," said Tulo. "I mean, you heard about what's happening with Christianity, right? It's replacing all the old religions. I bet the reason why Hermes was so annoyed is because he doesn't like having to be messenger boy for the Almighty when he used to be a god in his own right." As he spoke, they began to see – over the crest of yet another hill – a magnificent, sparkling palace of gold and silver to rival the most beautiful Earth architecture.

"But what's wrong with people believing in us?" Mixél persisted. "We exist, and we look after them. We deserve to be paid homage to! I'm not so keen on the sacrifices; they can stop doing those, but … stop believing in us?"

Tulo was silent for a while. "I suppose it's because… when people believe in us, it means they don't believe in…" He indicated the palace that was looming steadily in front of them. "And He doesn't like that."

"Well, He'll just have to-" began Mixél, but stopped as an angel flew past them.

"Sshh. We have to be careful now we're close. You never know who might be able to hear us," whispered Tulo.

The gods felt steadily smaller and smaller as they approached the palace. It wasn't a feeling they were used to. The palace wasn't excessively grand or elaborate, but it radiated a sense of… majesty that dimmed everything else around it. Even the shining angels gathered around in front of it looked like dull bronze in comparison to the palace itself. As for Mixél and Tulo, they felt very out of place, primitive and gaudy in the face of all this radiance. The angels fell silent and stared as they passed. The gods expected to be stopped at the door by some guard or official – Gabriel or Uriel or one of those – but no one prevented them from riding through the open doors of the palace into the entrance hall.

Inside the palace was much the same as outside. The décor was of a different colour: mainly white with only the occasional accent of gold or silver, but it still gave off the same feeling of almost unbearable purity. If anything, the feeling of – holiness was the only word to describe it – was stronger indoors. Mixél and Tulo felt as if the very walls of the palace knew everything they'd ever done wrong. It was enough to make them, two gods, want to slink off into a corner and hide.

Just as they were considering turning Alin around and riding as quickly as possible in the other direction, the spell was broken somewhat by the sight of a bearded giant hunched over a desk in the middle of the hall, looking even more uncomfortable in his own skin than they were currently feeling. Mixél and Tulo would have recognised him instantly even without the thunderbolt he was using to write with.

Glancing at Mixél, Tulo dismounted again and tentatively approached the desk. "Er… Zeus? Jupiter?"

"Call me whatever you will, it hardly matters any more," said Zeus without looking up, in a voice that rumbled like thunder yet sounded utterly defeated. "Do you have an appointment?"

"Er…" Tulo looked back at Mixél again, who shrugged. "I'm not sure. We were just summoned here."

Zeus looked up at them. His black eyes were still hard and powerful, but they lacked the fire they'd held when he was King of the Greek and Roman gods. "Mixelcoatl and Tuloztequi. The gods of El Dorado," he said in recognition, sounding almost friendly.

"You've heard of us?" asked Tulo in surprise. He could have sworn he saw Zeus's mouth twitch.

"Just in passing. Go on ahead. I will look after the… snake thing… until you return."

"Thanks," said Tulo and motioned to Mixél. Mixél jumped down from Alin's back, but instead of following Tulo, he stood and stared at Zeus, who had returned to writing in some sort of register.

"Mixél, come on," hissed Tulo.

"Zeus…" began Mixél. "Why are you here? Why aren't you watching over your kingdom?"

Zeus pressed down hard with the thunderbolt and sparks flew everywhere. "What kingdom?" he growled furiously.

"Mixél!" Tulo took the other god by the arm and pulled him forcibly past the desk and out of the entrance hall. Once they were outside, he said, "Remember that little voice that we talked about before, that stops people from saying stupid stuff?"

"I don't have one," said Mixél sullenly, pulling his arm out of Tulo's grip. "I'm sorry. I just can't believe it, I mean Zeus… of all the gods… doing secretary work!"

"I know," sighed Tulo. "Come on, we need to try and find out which room God's in. Maybe there's an angel or something we can a-"

He broke off as shouts sounded from down the corridor. Mixél and Tulo looked around for the source of the commotion, and it was soon revealed in the form of a goddess, being hauled along the corridor by two burly men in white robes, shouting in a strongly-accented voice. She was beautiful and tempestuous, like the storms she created, with tanned skin, flashing eyes and – literally – flaming red hair. The men cringed away from its blaze but kept gripping her firmly by the arms.

"MY CHARIOT! WHERE IS MY CHARIOT?" the goddess was shouting.

"That's-" began Tulo.

"Mari, the embodiment of the Earth. Yes, I know," Mixél finished for him.

Tulo rolled his eyes. "Trust you to know about something Spanish."

"She's Basque, actually."

"My lady, please," one of the white-robed men was saying patiently. "If you'll only calm down we will take you to your chariot, but I'm afraid you can no longer use it."

"CHRISTIANS!" shrieked Mari. "Can their God show them the way when they are lost in the forest? Does he create storms that fertilise the land?"

"Yes, he can, and yes, he does," replied the other man in the same annoyingly patient tone. "If you'll just co-operate with us, we will take you to your consort-"

"Consort!" Mari spat. "He is my husband. Don't demean our union with your Christian euphemisms…" Her voice continued to echo around the entrance hall as the two men – who could only have been saints – conveyed her firmly towards the door.

The two gods stared wordlessly after her. Mixél's shoulders were slumped in disbelief.

"This is ridiculous," he said. "Who's next? Are we going to see Thor pushing a broom? Danu waving a feather duster?"

"Actually, Thor's cleaning day is only on Thursday," said an amused voice. Mixél and Tulo swung round to see a god with green skin and a long, narrow black beard leaning against the wall. He wore a tall white crown adorned with colourful feathers and carried what looked like a blue and yellow striped shepherd's crook in one hand. The other held a flail with similar colouring. "I think the Almighty found it appropriate – y'know, Thursday is Thor's day." One side of his mouth lifted in a smile.

"Wait, I know you," said Mixél. "You're…"

"Osiris, Egyptian Lord of the Dead," said the god, offering a hand. Mixél and Tulo each shook it. "Are you in need of a guide? It's what I do." He lifted the crook.

"Yes, please; we're here to see the Almighty," said Tulo. "We should have asked Zeus how to get there, but someone managed to get on his bad side." He glared briefly at Mixél.

Osiris laughed, leading the way down the corridor. "Oh, don't mind old thunder-temper. He hasn't taken too well to his relocation. I suppose it must be a bit of a comedown for a King of the gods, but at least he still has an official post. I just wander around the palace, eavesdropping on saints' conversations and guiding the odd visitor."

"I don't think Mari's doing too well either," Mixél commented. "We saw her just now, shouting about a chariot…"

"Oh, yeah, she's been in here a lot," said Osiris, his expression serious, as they climbed a flight of gilded stairs. "She really hates Christians. I mean, I'm not too delighted about being displaced myself, and the angels are a bit high-and-mighty, but the saints aren't that bad. They get a pretty good deal when you think about it – when they're sacrificed, they go straight to Paradise."

"Is this really a paradise?" Mixél asked sceptically. Tulo nudged him, but he carried on anyway. "I'm beginning to think there's not really any such thing."

Osiris considered this. "Well, I think it used to be," he said. "But then… oh, we're here."

They were standing in front of a large pair of double doors. They didn't look any different to the rest of the palace, but the intimidating aura of holiness was back in full force, and when Tulo gingerly took hold of one of the handles, it was oddly warm.

"Good luck!" called Osiris, retreating down the corridor. Mixél took hold of the other door handle, and the two looked at each other in trepidation. They really didn't want to end up on cleaning duty.

Author's Notes: Cliffhangeerrrr! What's going to happen next?? I have no idea!

I may have gone overboard on the mythology in this chapter xD but it was SO much FUN! I always intended to put Zeus and Mari in there, and then after that Mixél and Tulo still needed someone to show them the way to the throne room, so I browsed through a list of Egyptian gods (on Wikipedia, naturally) and Osiris seemed like the perfect choice. He's so chilled xD

The vague theme of 'there's no such thing as paradise' which appeared in the chapter (completely unintentionally, I assure you; if I thought this fic had mutated before, then now, it's warped) I think was influenced by my study of The Tempest by Shakespeare, for my English exam. I won't bother explaining here, but anyone who's familiar with The Tempest should know what I'm taking about – Gonzalo's speech about the commonwealth and all that. It's an interesting concept.

I'm sorry there wasn't that much of Miguel and Tulio in this chapter, but I promise your favourite brainless duo will feature more next time.

Glossary of Gods (and other things):

'Déjà dit': French for 'already said', in the same way that 'déjà vu' is French for 'already seen'. (Hands up the people who knew that already!)

Hermes/Mercury: The winged messenger of the gods in Greek and Roman mythology. In one hand he carried the caduceus, or herald's staff, with two snakes twined around it and a pair of wings at the top. Not to be confused with the medical symbol, apparently, which only has the one snake and no wings.

Loki: A shapeshifter from Norse mythology who was punished by the other gods by being bound to a rock with the entrails of one of his sons, with snake venom dripping down on him from above.

St. Peter: Traditionally, the holder of the keys to heaven. He's a nice guy really.

Gabriel and Uriel: Archangels, who are like major angels. You'll know Gabriel from the Christmas story, no doubt.

Zeus/Jupiter: The king of the gods in Greek and Roman mythology, one of whose symbols was a thunderbolt. I don't think he used it for writing in registers, but you never know. The image of Zeus hunched over a desk doing secretary work was supposed to be comic, but I think it became too serious x3 I hope it made you smile, anyway.

Mari: A goddess in Basque mythology. The personification of the Earth, she was also associated with the weather, in particular storms which fertilised the land. She rode through the sky in a chariot, pulled by rams or horses. One legend said that if you were lost in the forest, you only needed to call her name three times and she would appear to guide the way. I did Northern Spanish mythology as my Spanish oral topic last year, so I thought I'd stick a bit in here.

Thor: A powerful god from Norse and Germanic mythology, who had a hammer called Mjolnir that he threw at things and which would return to him. Kind of like a boomerang. The English word 'Thursday' does actually originate from Thor.

Danu: A mother goddess in Irish mythology. The Tuatha Dé Danann,a race of people in the same mythology, are named after her: the name is translated as 'people of the goddess Danu'.

Osiris: Egyptian Lord of the Dead. His green skin symbolised rebirth. He was a merciful judge of the dead and referred to as 'Permanently Benign', so I figured he had to be a good guy.

Flail: No, not the action. In short, it's a tool used in agriculture for threshing grain. The crook and flail were associated with Egyptian Pharaohs, as symbols of office, as well as with Osiris.

I'd love to say I knew all of this stuff off the top of my head, but that would be a LIE. Except for the French, I knew that. Most of the rest was just vague knowledge that I picked up from reading at some point, and I had to do a bunch of research to get details. (So many Wikipedia pages in my browser history…) If there are any mythological buffs among you who think I've got a detail wrong, let me know. Also, if you have a particular god or mythology you'd like to see in the fanfic, suggest away and I'll see what I can do. Only ancient mythology, though. Bonus points if they got pushed out by Christianity.