“But there are no Loblaws in this province! And if there were, I don’t think they would sell things like that.”
“It isn’t one of your regular mortal stores. The Original Loblaws was built underneath this very river in the elder times of Leprechonia. Its first shopkeeper, Phineas T Loblaw was another wise old Leprechaun who always kept the ingredients for Anti-Pudding available at a discount to any hero or heroine who required it. His shop has since become one of the biggest grocery chains in Ontario and Quebec, but the Original Loblaws remains here and still carries nog, fog, blintzes, and logs. I am legally required to inform you that I was paid to say that, but that knowledge can still save the world.”
“Ok, but how do I go there?”
“The river is right over there. Swim as deep as you can and there you’ll be there.”
“What if I drown before I find the entrance, eh?”
“Try not to do that.”
“Ok! But I didn’t bring my bathing suit.”
And with a flick of Fellipe’s spoon, Elodie instantaneously was wearing an 11-piece Leprechonian swimsuit. It was bright, metallic, green and not especially comfortable. Elodie thought her mother might not approve of its angles and widths (there were too many), but it seemed to be waterproof at least and that was what mattered.
Without pausing to ask more irrelevant questions (though she sort of wanted to), Elodie leaped into a half-side 720° wheely-drill barrel-flop and landed four meters under the river surface and directly above where the Professor had specified. Under normal circumstances, she might have been impressed by her own lack of splash, but she had other things to worry about now.