“This is the right direction,” she said. “We should almost be there.”

Lombard veered southwest. The street narrowed and filled with houses and apartments. Eliot didn’t see anything that looked like a school.

They walked another entire block-passing the address where Paxington should have been-the last two digits of the closest number jumped from 16 to 22.

“You’re reading that map wrong,” Eliot told her.

“I’m not,” she replied.

Eliot then did the one thing he had vowed he wouldn’t do this morning. He dug into his pack, found a slender case, and pulled it out. Inside were his new glasses. The silver wire rims made him look like an ultra-dork when he wore them.

“Let me try,” he said.

Fiona glanced back down the street, confused. “Fine.” She handed him the map and letter.

He donned his glasses, cringing as he did so, but the pages came into focus. He checked the Paxington address, and then their map.

“Look,” he told Fiona, “it says it’s at the intersection of Lombard and Chestnut Streets. We’ve checked Lombard. We should go down Chestnut instead.”

Fiona examined the map. “It’s only one block north of here.” She almost looked impressed with this idea, but then added: “Not bad. . for an Architeuthis dux.”

Eliot ground his teeth at this simultaneous compliment and insult. Architeuthis dux was the scientific name for the giant squid. Its eye was one of the largest in the animal kingdom-the size of a volleyball-and could spot prey in the murkiest ocean depths. Her commentary on his new glasses.

As he mulled over the appropriate counterinsult, Fiona grabbed the map and letter and flounced down a side street. “Come on,” she called back. “Don’t sulk. . it was a good idea.”

Eliot removed his glasses, placed them back in their case, and dashed after her.