Wilhelm stares down the dim corridor first in one direction, then the other, as if this might help him reconstruct the path to the study in question. Back then, he hadn't paid much attention to where he was being led. He'd been preoccupied with looking over his shoulder for the shadowy nightmare entity that borrowed his brother's deathly pale face.

"I'm not sure," he finally admits.

Desperation seizes his expression; it's the look of someone who knows he's hit a dead end but doesn't want to turn back. Pacing and chewing on the edge of his thumbnail, he tries to dredge up anything useful from the muck of his memory.

"There was a staircase that came up by the dining hall."

Which he recalls because he'd made quite a few trips there, fetching coffee for the more magically inclined members of the group.